My Little Portal To The World

Plotted Path

2009-06-03T04:53:00.001-07:00

I watched a leaf rocking spinning slowly floating down
I followed its path till it nestled snuggly on the ground
Was its journey planned perfect and direct?
Was its course plotted by a master architect?
Was its path considered before the annals of time?
Did it release and fall so I would write this rhyme?

The Break Up

2008-11-01T00:40:00.001-07:00

Don’t paint the picture in color when it’s black and white

Or decorate a wrong to make it look more right

Don’t glaze or sugar coat when it’s not something sweet

Or dance like there is music when there is no beat

Don’t sing a happy song when it’s time to sing a dirge

Or fill what is empty when it’s time to purge

Don’t try and make light what weighs heavy on my soul

Or call it a diamond when it’s a chunk of coal

Don’t try and spare my feelings when it’s really your own

Or give me excuses to cover up what’s wrong

Don’t ask if we can still be friends just turn and walk away

I wouldn’t say never, but it’s not happening today

Last Stroll on the Beach

2008-11-01T00:37:00.000-07:00

The old man sat on the pier’s old wooden bench, hands clasp together, eyes fixed on the rhythmic motion of the waves as they rolled and crashed ashore. He was vaguely aware of the gulls that hung in the air dangling as if on string waiting to see if he had brought a morsel of food to share. The gusting ocean breeze ran its fingers through his hair and gently caressed his weathered face. Motionless he sat looking more like a carved figure of stone than a man of flesh and bone.

The old man’s mind journeyed back in time to his youth when each day delivered an array of endless possibilities, and hope. A time when he was full of vigor and the desire for adventure, discovery, and new experiences aroused his imagination, and energized his spirit. To a day when a shy, bubbly kid awkwardly and nervously reached to take the soft warm hand of the one that danced in his dreams.

The first ray of dawning light peeked over the distant horizon and greeted the old man’s aging eyes as it had thousands of times before, but this time he did not raise his head to welcome his old friend, and sat as if frozen in place. Images of times past slowly strolled along the beach lost in the moment of each others gaze. The delicate frame of her lovely face remained etched on the window of his mind. Happy just to have her hand folded within his own. The first tender kiss when he thought his heart would break open his chest, and fall to the sand.

The images began to fade away just as footsteps in the sand are erased with wind and wave. The colors that were so vivid now faintly evaporated into the atmosphere until all but the memory remained.

The sun leaped from hiding and revealed its full face. The beach began to fill with the morning joggers, people walking their dogs, and vacationers scavenging for shells. Early fishermen toting fishing gear made their way down the pier to try their luck. The world was awakening to start of another day, and the silence was shattered with the sounds of life.

A young fisherman spoke to the old man, but was greeted with silence. He spoke louder, but the old man did not acknowledge or as much as stir. He reached and touched the old man on the arm, but the old man just sat, eyes open and fixated on the beaches edge.

The old man had slipped quietly away to join his beloved for one last stroll on the beach. This time as he gently kissed her lips, his heart broke free of its bond as a butterfly from its cocoon spread his wings and the two flew away. Together they caught the ocean breeze and soared over the dawning horizon.

A Search for a Loving God Part Xlll

2008-08-24T18:07:00.000-07:00

When your whole world falls apart, and you’re as low as you think you can imagine, don’t ever think it can’t get worse. Things can always get worse. Everyone in life falls or gets knocked down. Life has it’s ups and downs not matter what your status. Hitting rock bottom isn’t a sin, not attempting to get up may be.

I have found when I am down and have nothing, those with nothing will share their little bit of nothing with you. Those that have, don’t want to acknowledge your existence. I have been amazed at the generosity of the poor, and their concern for one another.

I felt alone in the world, and it took all my energy to keep putting one foot in front of the other & keep going on. We are never truly alone, but at times it sure feels like it. My little sister refused to let me give up, and surprised me by paying for and setting the appointment for me to take the GED exam. I know although I had doubts, God was with me, God and my little sister.

Filled with self pity, leaves no room for anything or anybody. Neither I nor anyone I have ever met will abide with anyone filled with self pity one hundred percent of the time. They run everyone around them off to justify their self pity. Oddly enough when you’re that far down the only people around you are down as well. The positive thing, should you arrive at such a place is all roads lead out, just be careful the road you take.

I had not seen my mother for a few months, so one afternoon I decided to visit. I must have timed it right, or God put the thought in my head, because just as I approached the porch I hear my little sister screaming. I ran in without knocking, and ran straight to me mothers room where the screams were coming from, and my mother was swinging a belt, buckle first hitting my sister. I came in from behind and grabbed the belt, mom turned and came after me, I gave her a hard shove and she landed across her bed. I was angry, and yelled at her that if she deserved to be spanked you damn sure don’t hit her with the buckle. I told her I better never hear of her hitting Patricia again, or I would hurt her.

I left with my little sister Patricia in tow, and for the next three months she stayed at my place. I sent her home when I found out she was taking advantage of the situation to have sex with her boy friend. Like the typical older brother I beat her boy friends ass as well.

I began to like being on my own. I didn’t make much money, but most things I enjoyed were free, a pickup game of basketball at the community center, some touch football at the local park, or visiting friends. When I did have a few extra dollars, there was dollar car load night at the local drive in movie, going to the roller rink, bowling a few games, or catching a city bus down town just to sight see.

I met a girl at the local Piggly Wiggly, and began to spend time with her. I would like to say I loved her, but I didn’t. We did get along and she seemed to dote on me. She had a car, a good job, and a nice apartment. I don’t think I thought of it like that at the time, but reflecting back I see with better vision. She made me feel like I had moved up in the world. I did contribute, but she made more money than me, and together we could do more that I could.

I started having trouble with my shoulders, and the pain was unbearable, but I thought it was a muscle strain that would go away. A couple of weeks past and it had not improved, in fact it was worse. We were laying in bed one evening and I could hear my heart, only it was a beat I heard, it was like a saw swishing back and forth. I asked her to listen and she was concerned.

Next day I went to the doctor’s office, and he said I had pericarditis and needed to be hospitalized immediately I didn’t understand the seriousness of the situation and after leaving the doctors office I chased after my little sister as she was driving away. She drove me to moms, and mom took me to the hospital. After what seemed like forever I was admitted.

I didn’t know the hospital had put me on last rites until a friends came to visit. He and I were good friends, but we had been arguing and to see him was somewhat of a surprise. He said we had been friends too long for something to happen and he not see me one last time. I said, “What?” He says, “Man your on last rites.” I said, “What the hell is that? I’m not catholic.” He says, “They don’t expect you to make it.” I said, “Get the hell out of here and I’ll come see you when I get out” He ask, Are you sure? I said, I don’t know what the doctors think, but I know what I know, and I’ll be getting out of here. He gave me a hug and left.

My 3^rd or 4^th day the pain was worse than ever, and I was squirming on the bed when the preacher dropped in. He chatted with me and we prayed, and he left. I was in so much pain I almost wanted to die, but about 8:30PM it all eased and the pain was gone. I slept like I had not slept for a while. The next morning the preacher dropped by again and was relieved to see I wasn’t in pain. He asked when the pain subsided, and when I told him he says, that is when we held a special prayed meeting for you.

I was released a couple of days later with some restrictions, but glad to be out. The girl I met at Piggly Wiggly came to visit almost every day. She insisted I stay at her place during my recovery. I had been out of the hospital for a couple of week and wanted to get out. We went to a drive in movie and watched Judge Roy Beam starring Paul Newman. Driving home it stormed like no tomorrow,

Arriving at her apartment I stopped on the balcony, and I felt a sudden sense of lonely. She turned to ask what the matter is. I glanced and said, it feels like the end of the world. She turned and entered her apartment and I soon followed. That night I was awakened and I heard her on the phone, and I hear her ask, “What should I tell him?” I arose and walked into the living room where she was, and I said. “Patricia is dead isn’t she?” She looked at me agape and says, yes, how did you know? I don’t know how I knew, but I knew.

I dressed and went out, and I had just thing in mind. Her ex boy friend had threatened her and I thought it was him, so I was going to kill him. A few miles down the road my aunt and a couple of her kids stopped me. She said he had nothing to do with it and I should come with her. I did as she asked and got in the car.

My mom was concerned about my heart, or so she said. Some how she had a doctor medicate me, and the next few days were a blur.

My little sister was the only family that always loved me thru thick and thin. She was my pillar and my strength. I will battle with God again for taking her, and not me

A Search for a Loving God Part Xll

2008-08-22T22:01:00.000-07:00

I have wondered many times in my life, why? There have been times, I wished I had never been, & wished I could just fade away into the ethereal. All I could do in times such as these was to keep putting one foot in front of the other.
The summer of 1970 about two weeks before football spring training I came home from a party and my head begin to pound. When morning came and my mother looked in to check on me, I could not sit up. She had to help me to the bathroom, and hold me up. She rushed me to a clinic that was just down the street. They performed a spinal tap, and discovered I had spinal meningitis. I was admitted to a near by hospital, and mom called her brother to come carry me. Sights, sounds, and scents all made me sick.
I went into a semi coma state and all I remember for about three days was floating around the ceiling. When I did return to a conscious state I was still in pain, but nothing I couldn’t deal with. I would get nausea when I ate so they would give me a shot in the rump to ease my nausea. The shot hurt as bad as what I was dealing with, and I’m not sure if it was the nurse or the shot but it bled till my underwear was soaked on my right cheek. I informed my doctor and he says, you don’t have to take it. Next morning when the nurse came to give me the shot, I said no. She leaves, but the head nurse came in and verbally lambasted me. She said if you don’t take the shot I better see you eat everything on your plate. Breakfast took till lunch to finish, and lunch till dinner, but I finished it. Mainly just so I didn’t have to listen to her again.
I was lucky and released on my seventh day, but the doctor insisted I take it easy. He said I couldn’t play football for at least a year, said it was too risky. I lived for football, and not being able to play was devastating. A large chunk of my world collapsed. I didn’t know then a total collapse awaited me just around the corner.
I know my mother was struggling, and it was all she could do make ends meet. She would call it living pillar to post. My stepfather and her we getting a divorce, and that left just her and me supporting. I heard him hit her one night and I sprinted to her room and flung open the door. He had her cornered, but when she saw me she came out of the corner like Joe Lewis. When it was over she had broke his nose and cracked three ribs. She had him down and was just pounding him, and he looks up at me and asked for help. I said, I didn’t come running to help you. This was a man six foot three inches tall and weighed over two hundred forty pounds. My mother was five foot five inches and may have weighed one hundred and twenty pounds. He limped around a couple of day, and then left and never came back.
A few days before school starts my mother tells me I have to move out. She says she can’t afford me. I found a room at a boarding house, and the little old lady that owned it liked me. She put me in the only room that had its own bathroom. Not being able to play football I could work more hours to afford my little room. The room even had a small black and white TV.
I started my senior of school, and felt out of place not being on the football team. I didn’t have to feel out of place long a special messenger came to my drafting class with news. The vice principle came to my drafting class, leaned down and whispered in my ear “You cannot continue school here if your not living with a legal guardian.” I said, I’m eighteen, and he says it doesn’t matter. I sat looking out the window wondering how he knew, and what was I going to do. I lay my books on the desk, step through the large open window, and walked away.
I didn’t know what to do, or where to turn. I decided to join the service. I went down town to talk to a recruiter, and next thing I know I’m testing and taking a physical. I knew Nam was still raging, but this way I could get an education even if it meant going to Nam. When the day was over I couldn’t believe it, but I was rejected. People are burning draft cards, and running to Canada to escape military service, and the reject me because I’m blind in the right eye.
This one of the times I wished not to be. I felt like the whole world had abandoned me. I don’t know that there is a word that can describe the depth of loneliness I felt. I was angry with God for allowing me to be. I screamed “What is it you want of me?” I felt Family, community, my country, and God had all abandoned me, but I blamed God for allowing it. I yelled, “What kind of God would create something just to torture it.” I was not afraid of the meanest person alive, but I was afraid of the unknown that lay ahead.
I believe this is the place many future criminals arrive. This is where true fortitude is tested, and decisions made here can define who you are. I too started down the wrong road, and the same God I was so angry with stopped me and straightened my path. I have wished at times things could have been different, but I wouldn’t be the me I am today if they were.

A Search for a Loving God Part Xl

2008-08-19T08:34:00.000-07:00

My dad had tried to visit me once during my years at the boy’s ranch, but was turned away. When in custody of my grandparents he had told them I didn’t deserve to live and he should kill me. I acted brave, but one night when my grandfather was grappling for the string in the kitchen to turn on the light I started screaming. He realized I was more scared than I wanted to admit, and until I was put in the boy’s ranch he made a pallet on the floor beside his bed & had me sleep there. Now at 17 years of age my dad comes by and wants me to accompany him on a trip from Dallas to Austin to visit a friend.

The trip from Dallas to Austin was uneventful and was actually quiet. The friend we were to visit was in a mental institution, and I was never able to understand their relationship. They allowed her a pass, and we took her to eat at a Mexican restaurant. She and my dad chatted while I mentally escaped into the sights outside the restaurant window. She was not a pretty lady. She was sloppily dressed, overweight, and didn’t look to be too clean. She also had a large mole on her face with long hairs growing from it, and I couldn’t look at her and stomach my food. I felt bad that I felt that way, but I couldn’t escape or change it.

The time dragged by and after an agonizing three hours we dropped his friend off and started out trip home. The trip back to Dallas would be a complete contrast to the quiet ride to Austin. Dad had to stop for a couple of beers before we headed out, and we took a different return route than the one we had come down on. Dad said it was the scenic route, but he should have called it a drunkard’s route. We must have stopped at every lounge, tavern, and bar there was between Austin and Dallas. I have never seen the drinker’s route on any map, but it seems my dad knew it well.

We stopped just outside Temple at what is known as the crossroads. The crossroads is the county line and the only place for thirty miles that alcohol is sold. There are several dives to choose from and my dad chose a fine establishment where the lights didn’t need to be dimmed, the smoke that lay heavy around the room would accomplish that very well.

Dad found himself a seat at the bar, and was soon embellishing himself with the nectar of his God. There were two empty pool tables and to pass the time I inserted my quarter racked them up and shot some balls. Two soldiers entered the bar and one walked over to the table and says, “Shoot a game for a beer” I shook my head no, and informed him I was too young to drink. He says, “Shoot a game for a dollar” I said no it’s my table, you win you can have the table, but my dad turns on his barstool and says, “I’ll cover his dollar. The guy inserted his quarter and racked them up.

I broke, and nothing fell. He dropped three or four balls before I was given another opportunity to shoot. I made another well intentioned attempt, but again nothing dropped. The soldier them ran all his balls and called the eight in the side pocket. He shot and the eight dropped in the called pocket, but the cue ball rolled into the corner pocket. The soldier looks at me with a smile and says, “Ok where is my dollar?” I looked at him and said, “I not a dummy, you may have run the table but a scratch on the eight ball is a loss.” He says, I want my dollar and he starts walking my way. I raised my cue stick and would have stood my ground, but my dad spun in his barstool, pitched the guy a dollar, and yells at me, “Come on, we’re leaving”

I had driven once or twice and was not proficient, but dad pitched me the keys and says, you’re driving. I eased across the graveled parking lot and onto the two lane black top. Dad started growling at me calling me a punk, and a trouble maker. I sat silent and concentrated on driving. I was doing the speed limit, and he called me a mama’s boy, and a sissy, and instructed me to drive like a man. He hollered for me to drive faster, and I eased on the accelerator, but it wasn’t fast enough to appease him. I recalled times when I was very young when he would drive a hundred miles per hour screaming “Are you afraid?” I eased on the gas some more, but again not to his satisfaction. He continued to berate me yelling how I was raised by a woman making snide remarks about my manhood. I sped up more and the last I looked the odometer revealed I was driving ninety five miles per hour. He yells, “Scared boy?” I said no. He then again called me a punk and said I didn’t deserve to live, and says, “I’m gonna kill you.”

Dad attacked me hitting me on the side of the head, but all could think about was getting the car stopped and pulled over safely. I kept him at bay with one hand while guiding the car with the other. I’m not sure how I did it, but I managed to get the car pulled to the side of the road, and stopped. I then gave dad my undivided attention. I may have yelled, “:we’ll see who kills who. “ I overpowered him and had him draped over the front seat holding him with my left hand while pounding away with my right. Everything happened so fast I couldn’t keep up with details, but somehow he managed to get out the passengers door and start running down the highway.

I eased out of the car and watched as he ran stumbling, falling, getting up and falling again. He was crying like a baby and screaming at the top of his lungs for someone to help him, Yelling, “Please help me, he is gonna kill me” Earlier, years of anger kicked down the walls and rushed forth in a flurry of fury. Now, I walked slowly watching my dad, and all I saw was a scared, angry little kid that had never grown up. All my hatred and anger was washed away and a feeling of peace wrapped me like a blanket. I walked up to dad, and he looks at me his eyes filled with tears and fears, and flinches like he thinks I’m going to hit him. I reached down, lifted him up and just held him close. I said, come on lets go, and I walked him to the car and helped him in.

The time was late and per my dads request we drove to his mothers to spend the night. The next day I’m awakened by he and my grandmother talking over their morning coffee, and he was telling her he had fallen down some stairs. I got up and walked into the dining room, and couldn’t believe when I saw my dads face how badly I had beaten him. I was saddened looking at him, and the pain of hitting him was more than all the pain his hands had ever caused me. I still bear the scars his hands carved in me, and a blind right eye from a backhand, but I would add a couple of more if it took away my fist from hitting him. On the other hand I may never have been given the picture of him I saw that night, and may to this day carry around anger and hatred.

A Walk on the Beach

2008-08-14T14:39:00.000-07:00

Swells of rising waves breaking as they crest

Crash ashore, crawl and gently come to rest

Whispering winds beckon come into the sea

Caressing my face assuring bliss awaits for me.

Deep blue pressed against an auburn sky

Morns first ray reached to touch my eye

Come dance the dance just you and I

The time has come to say goodbye

Invitation to a Fight

2008-07-30T10:01:00.001-07:00

The band was softly playing and sawdust was on the floor

I had received my invitation just a few moments before

No need for an RSVP because attendance is required

No need to wear a three piece suit, come as you’re attired

No standing in the back playing wallflower tonight

You’re the honored guest, and you’ll be in the limelight

You will dance tonight whether you know how or not

I’ve just one suggestion, give it everything you’ve got

Boldly face your partner, and watch their every move

Try and feel the rhythm, and get into the groove

Meet head to head, toe to toe, cast off all your fear

The invitation to a fight is your only purpose here.

Seeds For a Childs Mind

2008-07-28T07:30:00.001-07:00

Mom pulled the car into the drive, knocked and instructed me

I won't be long, you stay in this yard, and I better not catch you in that tree.

She disappeared behind the door, but a thought stuck in my mind

What is different about this tree, was it a very special kind.

I looked trunk to stem, High and low, nothing special could I see

I peered through its branches and wondered aloud, What can it be

This must be something that cant be seen standing on the ground

Maybe if I stood on it's lowest limb the answer can be found

I inched my way to it;s lowest limb, a chance I had to take

I know that theres some special discovery to make

I reached the limb but was dismayed, nothing special here

I'm sure it must be higher up, I must be getting near

One more limb, just one more. I'm sure if I just climb

I will solve this mystery, but I didn't have much time

I climbed & climbed, and wondered what is it I seek

I must be getting close now, because I see the peak

I realize I must hurry, take my treasure and decend

Once I have my special prize maybe I'll direct the wind

The silence broken, I hear a voice, it's calling me by name

Tis just a trick a fairies trick to prevent my precious claim

The voice again this time much louder coming from below

Dare I look down when I'm so close from things that I don't know

I turned at looked to see my mother looking so dissatisfied

Yelling ,what was the last thing that I told you before I went inside

A Search for a Loving God Part X

2008-07-26T13:46:00.000-07:00

Dallas is no NY City, but for someone that has only lived in small country towns all their life it was an eye opener. We didn't move into the best of neighborhoods, & according to police statistics it accounted for more calls than any other part town. The area is called Oak Cliff. The following is a small sampling from Wikipedia.
Oak Cliff was a town located in Dallas County, Texas (USA), that was annexed by the neighboring city of Dallas in 1903. It has since retained a distinct neighborhood identity as "Dallas' older, established neighborhood". As such, it is often called "The Cliff."

Oak Cliff has turn of the century and mid-20th century housing, many parks and remarkably close proximity to the central business district of downtown Dallas without the heavy vehicular traffic or higher cost of housing commonly associated with Dallas' northern neighborhoods.

The current boundaries of Oak Cliff are roughly Interstate 30 and the Trinity River on the north, interstate 35E on the east, Camp Wisdom Road on the south, and Cockrell Hill Road on the west. In practice nearly every neighborhood south of the Trinity River (excluding west Dallas) is called Oak Cliff, though much of it was never part of the original town. For example, the South Oak Cliff neighborhood (the primary African-American neighborhood in Dallas), which generally includes neighborhoods south of Illinois Avenue, was never part of the original town of Oak Cliff, just as the Arcadia Park area was once its own municipality.

I went through a short period of cultural shock & that is putting it mildly. I had never seen such a diverse mix of people & I felt a need to stay alert & cautious. Yet, there was a sense of adventure & I desired to explore every avenue of this city.
The high school W.H. Adamson is one of if not the oldest school still operating in Dallas.
From the start I could see I might have some problems fitting in here, hell even my clothes made me stand out like a tourist or a hick. There didn't seem to be one farm/ranch boy in the whole school and I was labeled a goat roper from the start. Hell I couldn't have stood out more if I had worn a lamp shade on my head. Walking the halls I saw groups gathered & each had their own unique defining characteristics. There was of course blacks & Hispanics, but it looked as the ones here were not of the same tribe as those from where I came from. Although not as prominent as it is today there was some gang activity.
I know it may sound strange to some, but the first place I felt comfortable was athletics. I started in the middle of the school year & had run track back home so I ran track here. I was the first freshman at this old establishment to be on the varsity track team

I was on the varsity track team, but it didn't mean anything because I was prohibited from varsity competition for 6 months, something to do with transferring schools. Had I transferred from the same district there was a one year probationary period, I think it was to prevent recruiting. I basically practiced with the team.
When I turned 16 I had to go to work. My mom & stepfather said I could live there, but I would have to work for my lunch money, & had to purchase my own clothes. I got a job at a place called FoodWay & was making a whopping $1.60 an hour. The manager worked with my hours some to allow me to play sports. I didn't have a girl friend so my weekends were mostly free to work. I averaged between 25 & 30 hours a week, & for once in my life I had a little money in my pocket.
My 1st attempt at purchasing some clothes I thought might help me fit in was a total disaster. I got these stripped bell bottom pants that looked liked they were made out of window curtains, & a shirt to match. Van Gogh never splashed so much color as my new suit. I think I wore it once.
Next I tried all black, & no there wasn't anyone dressing Gothic in those days. I finally settled on old reliable jeans with a boot cut, & standard shirts.
Coach had instructed me to get some running shoes that provided a good cushion. I set out on Jefferson Avenue for my search. Jefferson Avenue provided a smorgasbord of selections no matter what you were looking for. I was not a mall I could go to, and the nearest shopping center was a few miles away. Jefferson Ave. was a few blocks away. I had searched many stores, and was about to give up. I was walking home when I saw this store that seemed to have a little of this & that of everything. This store looked like it was a step into the twilight zone. At the back in a corner was a small selection of shoes and this one pair caught my eye. A pair of Pumas made from Kangaroo leather. They had great cushion so I tried them on, & I had never had anything on my feet feel so much like pleasure.
I called the proprietor over & asked how much & he says something like $18.00 & all I could think was that’s a lot of money. I had enough to make the purchase, but it would leave me almost broke & I had other needs. I told him I would have to think about it, & would check back in a few days. He says, Ok, but this is my last pair. I asked when he would get another shipment & he says, I’ll not be able to find shoes like this anymore, the government has outlawed the import of kangaroo leather hoping to prevent their slaughter to extinction. I thought hard & asked to try them on again, & I kept them on and purchased them.
I didn't walk home, I floated home. I was lucky I made it home without scrapes & bruises because I think I was admiring how well they looked on me & watched my feet all the way home.
I awoke the next morning and when I first looked at the shoes I was suddenly overwhelmed with depression thinking about how much I had just spent on them. I could have purchased 3 or 4 pair of regular tennis shoes for what I paid. I was also ashamed to wear them to school, so I put them in a sack & carried them. I wore my old shoes & placed the Pumas in my locker in the field house.
Spring training for football had begun and the first week or two it is non contact. We practiced in shorts & Tee Shirts, & there were a lot of drills, wind sprints, laps, stretches, & calisthenics. While getting dressed suddenly I was in the lime light. I was asked where did you get the shoes, how much did they cost etc. A couple of guys said I might go over there & buy me some, & I smugly said, cant. I got the last pair & they can't get anymore. I loved my shoes.
After two weeks into training it's pad up & go live head to head. At this point it's time to put on cleats. We finished a good workout & hit the showers. I headed to my locker & when I opened the door there was a blank space where my shoes had been. I looked all around & at everyone’s feet, but didn't see my shoes. I at last said ok guys where are my shoes? Some shrugged, but most ignored me & when the locker room cleared out still no shoes.
The weekend came & after my duties at FoodWay I had started helping out at a new Super Slide. I would wax the slide till it gave the best ride, sweep up, & at times take tickets. Some of the guys from the football team & their dates came in to ride the slide, & there on the feet of one of the baddest guys in school much less the team was my shoes. I didn't hesitate I walked up & said, those are my shoes. He looks at me & says no there not, & I said, yes they are, I know my shoes. He shrugs & says I just borrowed them, and I said, no you stole them. He says Man don't call me a thief, I tell you I borrowed them. I said, No when you borrow something you ask, you didn't ask you just took & that is stealing. He sucker punched me into a chain link fence & climbed on swinging. All I could do was cover up. I was lucky the owner & his son came out & pulled him off. The owner’s son was a weight lifter about 25 years old so he did get his attention. Then the guy who's name is Danny F. points to a near by park & says you & me over there in 15 minutes. I said, OK.
I walked over & a guy named Johnny G came with me. Johnny G acts bad, talks bad, & even walks like he is bad. The first thing Danny says is "Johnny I'll give you to the count of ten to get & if you don't I'm gonna kick your ass first. Bad ass Johnny left & he seemed to be in a hurry.
I was now looking at Danny & his friends & wondering when things got underway if they would jump in. Danny Then says, now I'll give you to 10 to get out of here or I'll kick your ass. I said, Save your breath I'm not going anywhere without my shoes.
Looked like the dance was on and I had my personal invitation. Had I known when I awoke that morning I would be required to go to a dance like this I may have slept in. The band was playing, saw dust was on the floor, & it was my time to dance.
He came at me like a bull, & I stepped aside. He swung a flurry of punches and I blocked everything. He ran at me swinging & I dodged, blocked, & stepped aside. He had kicked several times & I was able to shift so it glanced off or block them also. Then during a flurry of kicks and punches I misjudged a kick, attempting to block it my middle finger on my left hand was broke. I grimaced & he back up breathing heavy & says, ha-ha I connected with that one. I raised my hand & he could see it was broke. He then says; if you don't want more you better go now. I said, not till I have my shoes. He says, I'm not going barefoot. I said It didn't bother you that I had to go home barefoot. Then he did something that has puzzled me to this day. He sat down, took my shoes off, & threw them at me. He then says ok, take your fucking shoes & get out of here. I picked my shoes up & walked away.
I never swung one punch, or kicked once, nor anything else offensive. I simply defended, & my thinking was if I did hurt him his friends would jump in or he get more pissed & not stop with just an ass whipping.
A few days later working at the Super Slide Danny F. drove up in his 66 Mustang & calls me over to his car. He ask, you gonna be mad at me forever? I know I must have looked puzzled, & I said "I haven't thought too much about it" He says, I know of a party this weekend if you want to go you can ride with me. I said ok, but I thought I hope this isn't a set up. Actually he was real, & the party was fun.
There was a lot of friction directed toward me on the football team before, but now I was accepted. I was a new kid competing for a position & that breeds resentment for many. I love competition, & always push myself to the limits to win. Danny befriending me did seem to help me be accepted all around.

A Search for a Loving God Part IX

2008-07-26T10:43:00.000-07:00

I rarely watched the news in the 60's. Seemed it was mostly about Vietnam, & very depressing. When I was a kid in elementary it was always a news topic & when I graduated high school & had to register for my draft card it was still raging on. I had grown from a child that felt uneasy & a bit scared of Nam, to a man that tried to join the marines in 1969. Joining carried a stigma to it in those days & many were burning their draft cards & running to Canada. Back to my story.
Whenever Billy Graham was on TV everyone was gather to the family room to watch. We didn’t have a choice when Billy Graham was televised. The TV was black & white, but we didn’t know of color.
We watched shows some of you have never heard of much less watched. Shows like The Andy Grffith Show, Mister Ed, The Dick Van Dyke Show, The Beverly Hill Billies, The Lucy Show, Bewitched, Gomer Pyle U.S.M.C., Bonanza, & sometimes The Futurtive.
When we could get by the introduction to The Futurtive we may get to watch, but each time the houseparent saw the image of Blind Justice during the prelude he changed the channel. He thought it had something to do with nudity. We watched the program only when he missed the prelude. We loved Bonanza, but if they ever got into a gun fight the channel was turned or the TV was shut off, & yet the news on Nam was always allowed.
I remember a new kid came & he was telling us about Rock N Roll, & new dances. He was showing us how the dances went & we were trying it ourselves when the houseparent walked in. We were all paddled, seems dancing was also against the rules. I sometimes thought it was damned if you do, damned if you don't. A system designed to insure everyone fails.
I was held an extra year in the elementary building to guide the new & younger group of boys. I didn't like that 1 bit. I had to watch as everyone else my grade moved on to the middle or Junior High building. I saw the kids my age from the home at school & in the cafeteria, but rarely anywhere else. Seems I was awarded the yearly prize of being chosen the best boy in the building. I didn't know I was competing for it, & I damn sure didn't like the prize of being held in the elementary building to set an example.
The 7th grade is to this day my hardest year of school. I struggled with every subject it seems. The teacher that tutored me the year before was wouldn’t be around to help. We were required to take Spanish, but it was all I could do to pass English. I was also again struggling with spelling, & Texas History was not as easy as it sounds. There must be a direct path from the ass to the head because the prevailing thought seemed to be if we bust their ass their grades will improve. Along that line of thinking I should have aced every class.
The head superintendent was called in concerning my grades & to say I was nervous would be putting it lightly. I had seen the results of his handiwork, & I wasn't looking forward to experiencing it first hand. He took me to the usual room & we had what I think was considered counseling, & then I was instructed to bend over. I know many had been made to endure this with nothing but underpants on, & I would see a glimpse of them later running to their room holding their pants. I didn't have to remove my pants, & I bent over to receive the prescribed remedy. He gave me maybe a dozen whacks & stopped, & told me to stand. I stood and he admonished me & warned me if he had to come back I would get the full fury of his strap.
I didn't cry & walked away knowing I was lucky. I felt he had shown me mercy & I didn't really know why. I had never seen anyone in the past 2 years receive such leniency from him. This would also be the last time I was ever physically punished at the Boy's Ranch. I did work harder & although I didn't make the honor roll I did raise all my grades to passing.
Looking back it appears everything was in black & white, from the TV to the principles we were expected to live by. When life is regimented, you have to live to satisfy someone else’s interpretation of disciplined principles, the prerequisite is failure. I am not against corporal punishment, but I am against beating & punishing someone for something as benign as missing a belt loop when dressing. When a child continues to repeat an action that could result in physical harm, a few swats may be almost necessary to avert such acts. Still I think it better if we teach our children to desire to do the right things, not to do the right things out of fear. Should there be a dumb child I feel to punish him would be no different than punishing a cripple for being crippled.
I once had a dog that would tunnel out of the yard, so I had to place him on a chain. When I would take him off his chain & let him run around the yard he ran the yard like a greyhound. A few times someone would come through the gate & he would dart out like a bolt of lightning. I at first gave chase to no avail. Anyone but me could walk up & pet him. The moment he saw me coming he took off in a wink. He knew I would chain him up & he wouldn't come home till he was hungry. Whenever he entered the yard to eat I ran & closed the gate. People are the same to some degree, & soon I would prove that when the day came that I had merely dreamed of, but felt unwise to hope for. My time at the Ranch would end soon & a new era in my life would begin.

Choices, Do you think everything is just a choice in the same manner as choosing to have bacon & eggs for breakfast, or cereal? You didn't choose to be born, or who your parents would be, or what color of skin you have. You could choose to not eat or drink, but eventually you would rescind that choice or die. You could choose to be a Dr, but not have the inherent mental aptitude to succeed. You could choose to be a long distance runner, but be incapable due to physical inability. Our choices are few & rarely black & white. We tend to make many choices in life based on emotional desires instead of intellectual reasoning.
The summer before entering the 8th grade my mother returned & I was given the choice of staying at the boys ranch or living with her & my 2 sisters. I chose to live with my mom, because it had been my wish & hope for years. The decision was probably not best with respect for my future, but for a while it filled my emotional void. I thought I was going home, but what is home? I had no real idea. There is an old Cliché: that says, You can never go home again. The general meaning is, Once you make a big change in your life, like leaving your childhood house, things will not be the same. I found there to be much truth to this old saying.
My account at the boys ranch contained just over $50.00 of which I gladly gave my mother. I would have given $millions if I had it. She accepted it as if it was something I owed. My mother never apologized for leaving & not saying goodbye, & in fact she blamed it on me at times. Soon after I was living with her I found my own resentments begin to swell. For a short while I even resented my sisters because they were always with her.
We lived at first in my home town of Gatesville, TX, & would remain there the next year & a half. I began the 8th grade thinking I would be reunited with friends at school that I had known before, but few remembered me. I made the football squad & suiting up did fill me with a since of familiarity. The one draw back was coach; he started off calling me trash instead of Truss my name. After all I had been through this didn't set well with me. Before long the whole team started calling me trash, & ragging me. The name seem to spread around the school, & in the lunch room one day it brought rounds of laughter, I became upset & went home.
My mother was always home from work by the time I was out of school. She noticed my door closed, knocked & entered. She questioned me about why I was home early, but I was hesitant to tell her. She became somewhat upset & demanded I tell her. I did, & within 30 minutes we were in the principles office & the coach was summoned. I never spoke, I simply sat & observed. My mother asked the coach what he called me & he says Truss. She says, you don't call him trash? He says, Oh yeah I have, but I just do it trying to make him grow up. She says. Your last name is Bishop correct? He says, yes. She says I hear the students call you BitchUp. He says, they better not, & she says, there just trying to make you grow up. She says, my son has a name & that better be the name you call him. He says, He just needs to grow up, & she says, I think you may need to grow up & let me tell you something. I may just the one to help you with that. You ever call him trash again & I'll be back to this school & I'll kick you ass out front for all to see. The Coach looks up at the principle & she says, don’t look over there he can't help you. She says, Let me assure you, this is one woman that can kick your ass from shit to shinola, & we will see just how big a man you feel when all the student body sees a woman whip your ass. She then gets right in his face & pokes her finger in his face, & says you don't believe this woman can kick you ass just call him trash again, because there’s not much stopping me from doing it right now, you got it you trashy bastard. The coach says, Yes Maam. Before we leave she turns & says, best not forget.
I was never prouder of my mother than I was at that moment. She made a believer out of me, & I think the coach also. A few weeks later the coach did call me aside & says, I don't think it was real manly of you to run to your mother. I said, Coach would like to have another discussion with her? He says, No, no, no, I'm sorry I should have never said a word. Another word on the matter was never spoken again.
I became the starting right cornerback. I fought hard to win the job & I know I had to prove myself more than others. I never played in a losing effort while starting at right corner. I allowed just 1 score all year, & that 1 still haunts me today.
The remainder of my time at Gatesville was not too eventful. Just the average small town America boyhood mischief. We would sneak into the drive in, habituate the local swimming hole, visit relatives, ride horses, hunt, fish, & gather at friends to beat out chest & boast.
Next stop Dallas, TX & a whole new world to discover.

A Search for a Loving God Part Vlll

2008-07-26T08:27:00.001-07:00

They took us to town every 3 months provided you had not been in trouble & gave us .60 cents to spend. Those that had gotten in trouble not only missed the trip, but were given chores to do while we were gone. We had to get a receipt for every purchase to account for every cent. We weren't allowed to have 1 penny in our pocket. Getting caught with any money in your pocket even one cent meant a paddling. I usually spent my money on fish hooks & string. I didn't have a rod N Reel so I would find just the right shaped stone & tie it to my string, & then I placed my hook. I would then tie the other end to the dock, & bait it with a grasshopper. I would throw the stone as far as I could & go catch more grasshoppers. I would hand pull it in & if I had a fish I put it on my homemade stringer & tossed it in again.
There were several times I caught a stringer full of fish. I would bring them to the cafeteria & the workers there would clean & freeze them. Some of the area fishermen would donate fish & from time to time take the boys on a fishing trip 2 at a time. When enough fish was accumulated we would have a fish fry. There had to be enough for 72 boys & Ranch employees. I loved fishing & over 1 three month period I had accounted for half the fish at a fish fry.
Each boy had a bank account & if he wanted something more than the standard from the commissary he had to have money in his account to make the purchase. We never saw the money it was purchased for us. Some of the boys’ family's sent them money for their account regularly, but my family never sent any money, so I had to earn it. A little country church did choose to sponsor me & they sent $5.00 to $10.00 every few months. I liked Right Guard deodorant so that and Crest toothpaste was my 2 main orders.
When fishing one day some men in a boat watched me catch my grasshoppers, bait my hook, & toss my line. They saw I was catching fish regularly. They went to the home & told the houseparent they would pay 1 penny for each grasshopper we caught for them. I know 1 penny isn't much, but it adds up. I started catching grasshoppers, & over the summer I made $26.00 for my account. I had also caught Katydid's, but they didn't want to pay a penny for them. I gave them several to try & the next time they came they said, yes they work well also & I got a penny a piece for them as well.
As a 6th grader & making good grades I was made a building leader & was to help guide the younger boys. I didn't want that job, but wasn't given a choice. I watched over the younger boys like an old mother hen. I didn't let anyone bully them & warned them when I saw them do something that would get their ass whipped.
This one day the Bell had gonged for us to wash up & get in line for the noon meal. I was exiting the room when in comes Gaylon running to wash. I started playing around with him & wouldn't let him pass to wash his hands. I did this for a couple of minutes & left to get in line. Just as I got in line the buzzer sounded for us to file in & take our seats. Gaylon wasn't there & in the middle of prayer he opens the door & enters. He stood at the door, head bowed, & silently waiting. Once the prayer was over he headed for his seat, but the houseparent stopped him & says when we are through eating I need to see you. I knew what it meant, & I knew I was the reason he was late. After eating & heading back to our building I stopped the houseparent & told him I was the 1 that deserved the punishment, & related what I had done. The houseparent chose to punish both of us. I was as angry as I had ever been with anyone. Gaylon didn't deserve to be punished, I did, Gaylon was under my watch & I felt let him down. (It wasn't long after this that I did the slow walk through a belt line)
I made a vow that day to myself & God that I would not fear the punishment again. I would learn to deal with it. Even today when I remember that incident I feel that old anger rise up in me. .
One day I was out in forest area we called the woods, & was playing with Crawdads & tadpoles in a small stream. I had ventured about 50 to 100 yards beyond the invisible boundary we were not to cross. I heard some voices & looked to see Perry B. & Mike K. playing on an old well. As I watched a board broke & Mike K. fell into the well. I started towards the well & could see Perry grab a long stick & straddle the wall. He was stretching trying to help Mike & quick as a wink he fell into the well. Had I not ventured beyond the boundary I wouldn't have seen them. They too were somewhere they shouldn't be.
I looked around & saw what we called chicken wire & it looked like it had been partially covered with concrete when they built the wall around the well. They were about 10 to 12 foot down dog paddling in the water & yelling. I rolled the wire out & guided it down the well, & was lucky it was just long enough. Mike was a smaller guy & when he climbed close enough I grabbed him & pulled him from the well. Perry is a heavy set guy & I know the wire hurt his hands to climb, & I'm not sure I can pull him out when he is close enough for me to grab. He climbed & I braced the best I could. When he reached arms length I grabbed him & pulled with all I had. I think I blinked because next thing I know I am laying on my back & Perry is on top of me. We ran back to our area & hoped no one saw.
A few days passed & I hear Mike & Perry were paddled for venturing out of bounds. Seems one of the workers there noticed the boards used to cover the well were broken & some wire had been dropped down 1 side. I'm not sure how they found out who did it, but Mike & Perry told the story & how I got them out. They didn't mention I had crossed the boundary before it happened, my houseparent said he knew I couldn't have seen them had I not been beyond the boundary. He says, the boys are lucky you saw them; we could have lost both of them. Then he says, that’s what makes this so hard & he paddled me. I didn't make a sound & I didn't cry. My anger grew to include God. I began to blame him as well as the Ranch Authority. How could he allow such injustice & cruelty.

Had every year of my life passed by at the same pace as the years did while at the Boys Ranch I would still be a young man. Seemed the years dragged by & yet every time I was enjoying something it flew by in a blink.
I loved to ride the horses & was ready at every chance. I had befriended the horses so well that I was sent alone at times to bring them up for a trail ride. A couple of the horses would follow me around & at times nudge me to pet them. I would also gather some fresh green grass for them that would be out of their reach. Yet if I approached with reins in hand they would run like they had been spooked. I would have to hang them on a shoulder & keep most of the reins behind my back. They even learned to watch for that trick.
One day while in the woods Coley a big sleek black mare came over to be petted. I petted her, but also slipped off my belt, eased it around her neck. I then stepped to the side & sprang swiftly upon her back. Once I had straddled her she took off like a light. I held on for dear life, & did my best to press my legs to her side & not be jettisoned off her. I watched as some brush & trees flew by a little too close for comfort. Soon we shot out of the woods and onto a dirt road, & then she opened up to full throttle. A belt around a horses neck provides no control, just a handle. I was leaned forward and stretched holding on for dear life when I looked up ahead and in the road I see the houseparent standing by his truck. He was getting out to open a gate & looked up to see me, & I'm not sure if it was a sudden turn by Coley or because I was startled at the sight of the houseparent, but I came sailing off the horse hit the ground & slid to the feet of the houseparent. I stood & he says, you can't control a horse with a belt around his neck, what were you thinking, now we have to catch the horse to get your belt.
We herded Coley to a corner & I took my belt from her neck. I thought this would mean another severe punishment. Although I mounted Coley within our prescribed boundary I wasn’t supposed to ride a horse without permission. When Coley delivered me to the feet of the houseparent I had crossed 3 boundaries, & then the fact of riding with just a belt. Maybe sometimes it gave him more pleasure to make you sweat than bust your ass. I was lightly scolded & the matter was forgotten.

We changed jobs every 3 months, but I was assigned the job of Table Boy every other time. I must have performed the job well because when we had distinguished guest I was always assigned the job even when it wasn't my regular job. Each building provided 2 boys & each was responsibly for a table that would sit 14 people, but usually there was only 13 at my table. I had to sit directly across from the houseparent & I didn't like that much. I did work hard to get my table the best of what ever was served.
One of the boys Lee S. from the high school started picking on me & all I could do was try & avoid him. One Saturday evening our specialty was chili, & I'm not sure why this idea flashed into my mind. I had seen a sack of gravy train dog food in the store room & it looked about the same size as the chunks of meat in the chili. I grabbed a hand full of the nuggets & as I walked by his bowl I dropped them in. I looked & he was busy so I grabbed a spoon & mixed them in well. Later as we all ate I watched & he never hesitated or examined his food, he just ate. He finished his bowl & went for 2nds & I was sure he would question why 1 tasted different than the other, but he never did. It was a passive aggressive act, but he was too big & strong for me to fight. All these years & he has never known. (I found Lee S. a few years back & we kept in touch for a while, but a stroke left him blind, unable to speak & walk. He played a few years of professional baseball) I never told him this story

One beautiful lazy summer afternoon a few of us were playing horseshoes. Melvin B. a lanky athletic boy came over to watch & I'm not sure if he was bored or pissed because he couldn't play. He had fashioned a spear out of a wooden pole he had found & each time I tossed my horseshoe he would try & catch it with his spear. I became a little irate & walked off muttering some angry words to him, when I heard him yell. I turned around just in time to catch a glimpse of the spear just as it penetrated my right knee. I screamed out in pain and would have fell to the ground, but I looked & saw he was running toward me. I ran towards the front of the housing unit holding onto the spear best I could. The spear broke off & I let it drop, but ran on till I was in the grassy area between the wings in front of the building where I dropped like a rock & held me leg, screaming. Soon I had made enough disturbances to arouse everyone in the building including the houseparent. I was rushed over to the clinic where they dug the spear & several splinters from my knee, stitched me up & sent me home.
Melvin B. was punished & placed on 6 weeks of campus chores. I limped around for several days, but I have been blessed with a body that heals fast. Melvin dropped by my room one day & apologized, & I could see he was sincere. I accepted & he became one of my best friends. Melvin was maybe the toughest boy in our building, & after he befriended me it was like he was a self appointed guardian. Melvin was one of 3 real orphans in our building.
Melvin B. came to the Ranch with 2 brothers, & his 2 brothers were killed in 2 separate accidents. One fell from the back of a pick-up truck which warranted the home to put a camper with side benches on the pick-up to prevent this type of accident from happening again. The other brother dove into the lake & never came up. They found him wedged in some roots of an under water stump which warranted the building of a pool & prohibiting swimming in the lake. I hope Melvin had a good life because he too had some difficult times early in life.
Donald L. was a pure orphaned & he witnessed an explosion that killed both his parents and all his known relative. He said it all happened at a family reunion. Say's it was at his aunts house, & they raised rabbits. He went outside to play with the rabbits & the house exploded. The flames engulfed it in seconds. Donald's temper was short fused, & when he went off you just hope it wasn't on you. He was either very brave or crazy, but he never backed down from a fight. I once watched from the window of a school bus as he got into a fight with a high school guy. The other guy was older, bigger, & stronger, but Donald was resilient. After the early traded punches the other guy pummeled Donald & he looked a blood mess. The guy punched till he was wore out & I would have thought it was over, but Donald took advantage of the guy being out of breath & came back pounding the guy unmercifully. When Donald was finally pulled off the guy they had to restrain him. The guy they had to help up & take to the hospital. I was glad Donald considered me a friend. I wouldn’t want to fight him.
Each summer we went to a Baptist encampment. Mostly it was a fun time, but the many classes & services we were required to attend were the only draw back. The encampment was packed with church youth from all over. What I always looked forward to was the competitions, but this one summer something else grabbed my attention. A girl name Gail A. & although I would have given an arm for a chance to talk to her, she came & introduced herself to me. When we weren't in class, a service, or some kind of competition, I would comb the grounds looking for her. We took walks, sat chatting in the shade of an oak, & had a lot of laughs. The last day there a friend came running to find me & told me where she was & that she wanted to see me. My heart did a couple of back flips & I ran to meet her. She wanted to say goodbye, & she gave me a hug & a kiss on the lips. Had I died at that moment I would have died the happiest man alive. I carried that feeling with me for days, but I was a bit fearful that if the houseparent found out, it would mean an ass busting. She wrote me one letter, but I wasn't allowed to send a reply. I never saw her again, but she remains a very pleasant memory.

A Search for a Loving God Part Vl

2008-07-26T06:47:00.000-07:00

Seems everybody that could field a baseball team would come challenge us to a game. Churches, city leagues, & even some public schools would just drop by to test their team. We were not given a choice to play, we were forced, & as much as I loved to play there were times I didn't want to. The area towns knew if they could beat us they had a good team. We lost very few games.
Each summer the Ranch held an all sports invitational tournament. There would be from 8 to 12 teams show up to compete. We were split into 2 teams, an A squad & a B squad. The A squad consisted of what was supposed to be our best players, & I was placed on the B squad. I was upset & that is putting it mildly. I never displayed my disappointment; I proved their error of judgment on the playing field.
Both the A & B squad won every game against other opponents in the basketball & baseball events, we would play each other for the crown. I have played in many tournaments in my life sense, but none meant more than this.
We had a new boy & sense little was known about him he was placed on the B squad. His name was Edwin M. & he was not handsome, in fact he was damn near pure ugly to look at. He didn't have a likable personality, & I shamefully found myself avoiding him, but it turns out he could shoot the basketball. He may have been ugly, but on this day he would shine like a new penny. His red hair, freckles, & bad teeth were diminished by his beautiful shots from the side. We knew going into the game we had a weapon they knew nothing about, but in this game he surprised everyone including us all the more.
From the tip off I was hounded like they thought I was the only player to worry about, they were on me like a blanket. I decided I would only shoot when I had a good shot & pass it to Edwin or Charles A. When more than 1 was on me it left someone open, & that someone seemed to be Edwin about 70% of the time. I worked it hard & would pass it to Edwin who responded with a swish shot all net. The game was hard fought on both sides of the ball, and we responded basket for basket all game. When I was smothered the sight of that red head was like the sight of land to someone ship wreaked & left adrift at sea. Edwin made it look so easy, & he kept us in the game swish after swish.
Time running out & they had just gone ahead by 1 point. The ball was passed to me & I drove it down the court. Just as I crossed center court I hear our coach yelling shoot it (Our coach was a woman PE teacher at school & theirs was a high school basketball coach), I turned, raised the ball & threw it more than shot it. The shot is a long shot for a 12 year old, & I had practiced it very rarely. I watched as it arched its way toward the target & couldn't believe what I was seeing. The ball slipped through so silent I didn't realize it until I see my team leaping for joy. The chances of me making that shot in that situation would probably not be much better than 1%, but today it was 100%. We won 33 to 32; I had 10 points in the game, Edwin M 16, Charles A 5, & Mike K 2. Now it's time for some baseball.
1st inning they were out 1, 2, 3, & it was our bat. I was 5th in the line up this day & as I was entering the batters box I heard Timothy yelling "He can't hit" & then he says He's just a tally whacker & that tally whacker can't hit. I'm not sure why some things happen when they happen, & I'm not sure why I chose this time to put an end to Timothy's harassment. Timothy was playing 2nd, & I was thinking he better not get in my way or I'll run over him. The base line belongs to the runner. The ball was pitched, I swung & connected for what should have been a stand up single, only thing is, I had no intention of stopping at 1st. I had an appointment at 2nd base & I didn't want to be late. I ignored the 1st base coaches signal to hold up, & rounded 1st. I started a sprint to 2nd, & I see Timothy looking & could tell the ball was being thrown for him to tag me. He took his eye off the ball for a glimpse of me & he could see I wasn't going to slide. He bobbled the ball just as I did my best to run through him. I took him down like a linebacker blitzing a quarterback. I wrestled his arms beneath my knees, & I drew back my fist to pound him, but the houseparent grabbed my fist before I could get in 1 lick.
I knew this probably meant a flogging as I was ushered off the field. We were both taken aside & read the riot act, but to my surprise we were sent back in to play, & I was awarded a double & placed back on 2nd. We went on to win by a large margin, but the real victory was fought at 2nd base. Timothy never again tried to bully me & I also put a stop to his bullying the younger boys. Nothing else was ever mentioned about the incident, & for days I aguishly anticipated the fall of the hammer that never came.

A Search For a Loving God Part V

2008-07-25T07:47:00.001-07:00

The complex consisted of 3 housing facilities all of which held 24 boys each, & was divided by grade. I was 1st in the elementary building, & later transferred to the jr. high building. There was a church, cafeteria, commissary, offices attached to the church, a gymnasium, a pool, & a shop. There were some individual housing for some of the workers & their families. such as the preacher. There was a huge barn & all the buildings any ranch would have. We attended the public school & were bussed to & fro each day.
I was a 5th grader & seems the schools administration didn't think well of the Ranch Boys. There was I think 11 boys in the 5th grade, & all but 1 was in what was referred to as the c-class. The classes were separated into A, B, & C classes & special-ed. I was placed in the c-class with the majority of the boys. I had been there about 2 weeks when the teachers called me in from recess to perform some math problems & read aloud some material they provided. I was released just as recess was over & went to my desk. I was sitting there quietly when the door opened & a teacher asked me to come with her. My heart fell to my stomach, from my experience this rarely meant anything good. I was told to grab all my books & follow. I was led to the B-class & issued another desk.
My houseparent’s were happy I had been promoted, & I was also very pleased, until I saw the home work. The boys in C-class didn't have half the assigned home work as I did, & I could see them outside playing, romping & having fun. I would be an extra hour completing my assignments on a daily basis. I decided if I let my grade drop I would be sent back to the lower class. This was not a wise decision on my part, & was informed by my teacher that she knew what I was doing & it wouldn't work. She told me I belonged in the A-class & was not going back to the C-class no matter what my grade. I was then given a heavier work load. I submitted & improved my performance. This did take the added assignments off, & I would get accustomed to the extra hour of study daily.
I was the fastest runner at school & at the Ranch. This attribute was my finest asset & I took full advantage of it. When we had free time there was always some game being played, & I was always included because of my speed. I lost just 1 race between the 5th & 8th grade years, & the guy that beat me the 1 time never did it again. I think he pushed me to be better by pressing me to exert my effort all the more.
Stick 24 boys together & there will inevitably be one that is a bully Timothy B was what I considered to be that bully. I knew I could whip him, but he was the houseparent’s pet & he hung with the tougher boys. Fighting would mean a good flogging & I was somewhat afraid of that. Timothy's days are numbered, but for now I just dealt with it. Today I also have a warm spot in my heart for Timothy, & it's for something he was never aware of. His actions prevented an experience that I would have had trouble dealing with possibly even to this day.
We were all playing basketball in the gym one Saturday, all but Allen L. He had gotten into trouble & was required to do chores for 6 weeks & not allowed involvement in any fun activities. He yelled something mouthy to me as he walked across the gym carrying a commode brush. I ask if he was going to brush his teeth, & it angered him. He squared off with me & swung. I didn't have time to do much more than flinch, & his fist slammed into my forehead knocking me to the floor. I jumped up quickly & squared back off, but he was jumping up & down screaming & holding his hand. He was begging me not to touch him, & I stood down.
The houseparent was called to look at his hand & he questioned how he hurt it. Allen told him he slipped & fell, & then the houseparent asked me what happened to me head, & I told him I ran into the wall after doing a lay up. Turned out Allen broke his hand & would have to wear a cast for 6 weeks. The houseparent learned the truth about what happened & I had to write all of Allen's home work till the cast was removed. I didn't get flogged, although it would have been easier than writing his home work per his instructions for 6 weeks & having to do my own as well. I did earn some respect from the boys for not being a fink. Fink or Rat Rink was not a label anyone wanted. Allen L. became a good friend in the weeks that followed.
Some may find it odd that I can remember most all the names of everyone in this phase of my life, although it has been over 40 years. It's what I call profound effect, I believe anything that has a profound effect on us leaves an image that is engraved permanently in our mind.

A Search for a Loving God Part lll

2008-07-23T06:15:00.000-07:00

Living with my uncle Dan was more difficult than it was living with my uncle Johnny, & uncle Dan is blood kin. I was brow beat & condemned & nothing I did was ever good enough for him. His wife aunt Ida Bell was not a pretty women to look at, but she was beautiful inside. Lucky uncle was away working much of the time & it was just the kids and aunt Ida Bell. I remember she would relate stories to us as she did her house chores, & she could bring the sun inside on a rainy day. When uncle Dan was home she too seemed to become withdrawn.
With 100 acres to play on, when I was outdoors I was in heaven. There was a creek that ran across the land & wooded areas so thick I could play out of site of any house. There was an old rusty windmill, a relic of an era long past that still stood proud, refusing to bow down & relinquish the small piece of ground it had held to for so long. This old windmill seemed to whisper to me beckoning me to scale it's tower, sit upon it's platform & reign over the land. I climbed the tower, higher & higher, my heartbeat & breath laboring heavier & heavier, & not from my effort, but from my fear & and anticipation. I was at last standing upon it's platform & gazing out across the horizon knowing I had not only conquered the windmill, but I had conquered my own fear, for I had slain the dragon. That evening my uncle Dan came home & I'm not sure who told him, but I had been seen atop the windmill, and he blistered my ass for it. Didn't matter, I had still mastered that fear.
My stay this time at my uncle Dans was short lived, & I'm not really sure why, but I was sent to live with my grandparents (My moms parents). I walked to school & home each day, & except for when I was in school there was seldom another kid to play with. I did keep hearing from my grandparents the same resounding theme I had heard from aunts, & uncles "We can't afford to keep you" My grandparents began immediately looking for a place for me to live, & soon they found a place called Buckners Baptist Boys Ranch. We drove & looked it over & when we returned home they berated me about wonderful it would be for me there. That changed to, if I wasn't well behaved & making good grades I would have to go there. I watched my every step, and tried hard so they would keep me. My grade in spelling was poor, & was afraid it would be just the excuse to rid them of me, so I cheated. I wasn't a good cheater & was caught at it my 1st time. The teacher made me come to the front of the room & sit in her lap. I was ashamed & embarrassed, & began to cry as I explained why I had cheated. I didn't want to be sent away, I just wanted a family. When I raised my head the teacher and many of the kids in my room were crying. She didn't tell on me, but within a week I was sent to the Boys Ranch.
To be continued (Next up The Boys Ranch sentenced to hell)

A Search for a Loving God Part ll

2008-07-21T16:27:00.000-07:00

Living with my aunt & uncle was uneasy, but for most part it was the 1st time I had ever experienced what might be considered a normal home. Even today far removed from that short phase of my life the mere remembrance of my uncle Johnny invokes a tear. Not a bad tear but a tear of appreciation for his love & kindness. My aunt (Dads Sister) does not bring the same feeling of love & kindness when I remember that time in my life.
I know I was occupying a room that should have been their oldest daughters, & I know they had 4 children of their own & I put a strain on finances as well as emotions. Their oldest daughter didn't complain much, & in fact I think she liked having someone about her age to play with. I did feel from my aunt that I wasn't wanted & she expressed it as, they couldn't afford me. I did all I knew how trying to be wanted. I would never ask for 2nd's at a meal, I ate what they put on my plate, & I turned down sodas & treats in between. I wanted very much to part of their family.
I studied hard & I tried to stay out of the way.
I missed my mother & sometimes in the middle of the night when all was quiet I would feel overwhelmed with loneliness. I would question my existence, why was I? I would sob quietly until sleep wrapped me in her blanked, & carried me away.
Christmas was just a few weeks away when my aunt & uncle took me in, but I dared not wish for much. The house began transforming into a wonderland of lights & decorations, & I couldn't help feel some of the excitement. My uncle had some friends over Christmas eve dinner & I had never seen a table piled so high with food. The day seemed to drag slowly & I tried to simply sit & remember my manors. There was a constant rumble of conversations going on, & an occasional roar of laughter. Though I was mostly an observer I was spent by days end.
I stood in my room getting dressed for bed when the door opened & it was my uncle. He says, "Son, when your dressed I need to see you in the den". He shut the door, & my head began searching & racing trying to figure why he needed to see me. My experience told me this was not good, & fear jumped me like a mugger. I took precious time dressing & couldn't think of one thing I might have done wrong. I eased the door open & began inching down the hall. The end of the hall came faster than I would like & I was standing in the doorway of the den. My uncle says, "Come on over here". I walked over & stood in front of him trying to look poised as my heart raced. Then he says, "Son I'm very proud of you, & I wanted you to know that" He says, "The people I had visiting today are some of my most respected friends, & they said you were the most polite & well behaved boy they had ever seen." I turned and walked back to my room, and found it hard to believe I wasn't punished, but praised. I lay awake trying to absorb what had happened, & for a little while I was ok.
The school year ended & it was time for me to be passed along. My few belongings were loaded in the car & my uncle drove to meet another uncle (My mothers brother) half way. My belongings swapped from one vehicle to the other, and I watched as my uncle Johnny drove away. I would not see him but once more in my life & that would be 15 years down the road. I got in uncle Dans car & we began the drive to his house. I sat quietly watching farm house after farm house pass by, & wondering what the lives of the people that lived there might be like.
I felt like an intruder at uncle Dans, I could feel he didn't really want me there. He had 3 children & one was a daughter my age. Where my uncle Johnny had lived in the city, uncle Dan lived in the country. Having about 100 acres to play on was the best thing about my stay here. The daughter my age could chunk a rock, climb a tree, and run as fast as any boy. I haven't seen her for 40 years, but she was my best friend the 1st part of this summer.
I would be entering 5th grade soon, & just a few weeks before school my mother with my 2 sisters drives up. I felt like I was being rescued, & thought I was going home at last. I now had a little brother, but he had cerebral palsy. She rented a small place in town, & moved me in with her. I had never felt so elated, and was afraid to let her escape my sight. I would collect pop bottles to sell & buy my little sisters & myself sno-cones. I think I tried every flavor that summer.
School started & I thought my life had at last found some inkling of normalcy. I remember being kept out 1 day and we went to the court house. I had a feeling wasn't right, but couldn't figure it out. A couple of days later it would unravel and it would be revealed to me what my feelings had been screaming out. I sat in class & the principle announced on the intercom for me to not ride the bus home, but catch the bus to my uncle Dans. When the school bell rang I raced to find my little sister, she was in the 1st grade & wouldn't know what bus to catch. I boarded my bus looking for her, & a little boy from her class says "She checked out of school today". I sat down in a seat & rode the bus home.
I walked into our house and it was empty except for a few boxes left on the living room floor. The boxes contained the few possessions that were mine. I sat down by boxes & wept. I said aloud. "God, looks like it's just you and me now" I wished so hard to just not be. Some time later my uncle arrives and he is upset I didn't catch the bus to his place. He tells me to load my things in the car, and lets go.
To be Continued (A few more moves)

A Search for a Loving God Part I

2008-07-14T06:23:00.000-07:00

I understand my entry into this world was like a crash landing. I was breach with umbilical cord wrapped around my neck. There was no time for a cesarean section, they had to break my mothers pelvis. She always said they were to give up on me & pronounce me dead when I gasp and took my 1st breath.
Home life would not be any easier, & I can still recall some whippings that hurt so bad I swear my hair screamed out in pain. I remember at 5 years old I awoke with diarrhea & I jumped from bed & ran for the outdoor toilet, but I spotted my underpants. When I came back into the house & my father saw my underpants he made me take them off & lay face down on the couch. He grabbed an extension cord & waylaid into me. It felt like eternity past before he stopped. I sat up whimpering & he raised his hand & says if I whimper he would give me more.
My second grade of school my mother & father divorced & I remember feeling happy that dad wasn't around & although my mom could hold her own slinging belt, she wasn't as quick to launch an attack as dad. Yes, for a while I felt a lot easier.
The end of my third year of school I was told I would be going to spend the summer with my dad. I remember immediate fear, & dread wash over me like an ocean wave. I remember wanting to run away.
Living with my dad I mainly just tried to stay out of sight, I had noticed the less I was seen the less chance I had of getting into trouble. I sure wasn't going to look for trouble, but trouble never had a problem finding me. I managed for the most part to stay out of harms way, & had only been punished a couple of times that summer.
Summer at last was over & I thought I would be going home, but little did I know that home was never to be again. My mother had married, taken my little sister & moved to another state. We picked up what few things of mine she left behind, & back with my dad to his place. I felt dread, but mainly very sad, a most empty sad. Oh I wished to just disappear.
My dad would come home drunk & awaken me at 3:00 Am. Made me sit at the kitchen table while he preached & threatened till it was time for school. I caught a few back hands, & got my but blistered a few times, but for most part I had faired well, but all that ended one evening. We lived in a boarding house & had to share the rest room with other boarders. I was sitting on the pot when dad broke down the door, grabbed my arm, jerked me off the pot, & drug me with pants at my ankles down the hall. He slung me across the room & my head hit the post on the headboard of my bed. He then took his belt & waylaid into me, all the time saying he knew what I had been doing. I didn't know for years to come of what I was being accused, & it wasn't true.
He stormed from the house, & I went to my drawer where I had been hiding my money & was going to get a dime & call the police. My money was gone, it seems he found it & drank it. I was able to get a neighbor to call a uncle. He came, picked me up & had my father arrested. The good thing is I would never live with my dad again & have to endure one of his tirades.
To be continued. (My search for a loving God sees a small window of hope)

Does Funny Have to be Trashy

2008-07-12T17:38:00.000-07:00

This has more to do with context than words. Why do people laugh at a comedian when they make jokes about fat people, women, cripples, ugly, dumb, & this just a start. Nothing is sacred in this country anymore, & as long as people patronize people who do as a joke it will not get any better.
I went to the beach with family & my daughter had a couple of her friends accompany us. A car with a boom box blaring so loud we couldn't hear ourselves think pulled up a few feet away, & the rap music was only about violence to women & all the thing he would make her do. I stood & was going to make them move on or turn the trash down. I was lucky that the beach patrol beat me & made them leave. The volume alone was an invasion of privacy, & the trash, I couldn't believe people would like such trash.
We all have heard comedians use the F_ word, & as times goes on it's just more & more raunchy. To fit into todays society are we to adapt to the crude, rude, & raunchy? I say if more people quite patronizing & making it profitable it would change. We will never be rid of it all, but it could be better than it is today.
Today if you have an affair with a politician or someone that is famous theres no disgrace. They will paid a million to pose nude & be interviewed. Sure has come a long way from the scarlet letter. Today I would think some mothers are even proud.
Think about what you laugh at & find humorous.

Shades of Blue

2008-07-11T12:59:00.000-07:00

I have felt more shades of blue than the eye can discern. The road I have traveled has had many hills, valleys, twists, & turns. I have considered walking away many times, but no matter where I would have gone, I would be there. I wouldn't have been hard to find, just follow the trail of garbage I am always throwing out, although it seems I turns back around & pick it up again. Makes moving on a snails pace.
I have also stood on the oceans edge, & thought how simple it would be to walk out, dive down, & take a deep breath. The waves crashing ashore & the awesome strength is something that stirs feelings deep within my soul & I can almost hear the sirens calling me to come on. I have had to turn & walk away fearing if I took one step forward I may not be able to stop & head back to shore.
1992 I lost almost everything I had accumulated in life, & by 1993 my struggles to pick myself up had taken a toll on me. I at 40 years old knelt beside my bed as a child, & prayed. Where once I had faith, now was doubt. I thought the God I had believed in was either a lie or he had forsaken me. I poured out my heart & with tears shared my fears. I was exhausted after & lay on the bed to rest. I know I probably fell asleep, but Christ came to my bed side & lifted my heart from it's depths. I looked into his face & all my doubts were washed away, & I couldn't believe I had doubted. I saw a face I knew before I was, a face I knew more than my own, a face I had seen every second of everyday of my life, & begged he forgive my doubt.
I awoke fresh & with a renewed faith. I never saw lips move, but it wasn't necessary I understood what he wished me to & when he left he related that in this life I would never see him in that manner again. With my renewed faith I went at life with a new vigor & I was able to start putting my life together piece by piece.
Lately life has thrown me some new curves & a different hue of blue, but I know I can pull through with faith.

I woke this morning to blue

In a hue I never knew

Was if I was absorbed by ocean & sky

More than I could see with a naked eye

I stood to take a closer look

But was held back as if with hook

I screamed out at the top of my lungs

Yet was muffled by a thousand tongues

I could not be seen, I was not heard

I couldn’t pronounce a single word

I lowered my head in quiet submission

Subjected to my own cognition

Cell Phone Implant

2008-07-11T06:54:00.000-07:00

Becoming accustomed to cell phones has taken me some time, & the hands free has really been hard for an old man to become accustomed to. I find it odd to hear people talking to their selves as they shuffle through the mall or down the aisles at the grocery. My first impressions when I walked into rest room & heard loud talk coming from a stall was how disgusting.
Driving home not long ago a car in front of me was weaving back & forth, & I thought it was a drunk. I finally found room to pass only to discover the driver was chatting on the phone. I was 3 exits from mine so I counted those that were talking on the phone, I passed 7 women drivers of all ages & ethnic background, & 6 were using the phone, compared to 4 men & only 1 talking on the phone.
I will have to declare chatting on the phone is probably safer than trying to apply make-up while driving, or while reading a romance novel or tech magazine & I have also witnessed this before. I understand the hands free is safer, & yet I have read studies that indicate it's not much safer.
What is it about the need to chat & it appears that some people need to chat all the time. I can see some 12 step program in the future to help with cell phone addiction. When waiting in a check out line, I really don't want to hear your side of a conversation & it does seem people try to speak loud enough for all to hear. Hey! I'm important & chatting on the phone, did you hear that? I found a picture of people walking down the sidewalk in NY city in the early 80's & not 1 hand was attached to the side of their head, I found another from early 2000's & almost everyones hand was attached to the side of their head. Looked like something contagious had it's affect on almost everyone.
People are always talking & oblivious to the world around them. I have thought they were speaking to me & ask what only to get a hateful look. Maybe chatting on the phone keeps them from having to interact with people around them, & maybe their is no one on the other end they are pretending so they can ignore those around them. I have always talked to myself some wherever I am & at times past it has gotten me an odd look or 2, but today it's possible that they simply think I'm chatting on the phone.
I envision in the future even the hands free will be a thing of the past & cell phone implants will replace them. When that happens I think I'll become a recluse & hide behind my 4 walls. I hate it now when I go out with friends & their phone rings & they spend more time chatting on the phone than having a conversation with the rest of the party. With implants it will be impossible to keep up with a conversation, what? Would you repeat that. OK! No not you. What? Who? Oh, you on the phone. 1 moment please. Everyone at the table is on the phone. Seems I have been having a conversation with myself. A table with a lot of chatter & not one talking to the other. With everyone talking, Who is listening? I may have to get my implant just so I can get a word in.

Staying in the Now

2008-07-09T06:59:00.000-07:00

Staying in the now. An absolute presence conscience with all senses & faculties attuned to the moment. Sounds easy, but during the course of a day I believe your lucky if you in the now 2% of the time. Many people rarely experience the absolute now unless an event ropes them in.
I think man has more problems today staying in the moment than our ancestors just 100 years ago. We have more distractions than at any time in history. We have TV's, Stereos, Computers, shopping malls, video games, and the list goes on.
I know we all remember those times when the absolute now was almost surreal. That 1st kiss, the 1st time you swam in deep water, the 1st time you drove a car, when a heart throb 1st reached to take your hand, the birth of your 1st child. There are also the bad moments, times of embarrassment, loss of a loved one, your 1st speeding ticket, falling, & if it's ever happened getting lost. There many more good & bad events that zoom us into the absolute now.
Why wait for an event to transport us into the now? Take at least 15 minutes a day to sit quietly & just feel the moment. Take a moment to shed all your worries, and enjoy. This may be hard at 1st & 15 minutes seem like an eternity, but with continued daily practice it will become easier. Sit or stand, listen, feel the wind or sun on your skin, breath easy, look at something beautiful & know it's your eyes that see this.
I might add turn off all those distractions, & that means the cell phone as well. No wonder the world is so stressed out, they can't even take a relaxing drive anymore. They are listening to the radio while talking on their cell phone while driving, and with gas prices those Sunday drives are becoming too expensive. I remember when people used to go out just to get away from the phone, but with the cell phones of today they are never far from the phone.
The reality is you can escape & relax for at least 15 minutes. I know everyone wants to be connected, but take the time each day & get disconnected. Turn off, shut down, let go, & just be. Today is as good a day as any to get started. Try it for 30 days & if you decide it's a waste of time, you can always revert.

We Can Learn From Youths

2008-07-08T12:08:00.000-07:00

I was abandoned when I was a child. & never knew the true nurture of a parent, & as a parent there have been times I learned from my children. When your willing to be honest and open possibilities are endless. I believe the experience has given me a perspective that few people ever realize.
My oldest is now 32 years old now, and doing well with her life. I remember bringing her home the 1st time & would waken in the middle of the night to check that she was breathing. I wanted her to be all & have all I never had & pushed (pressured) her to be her best. She took dance, ballet, gymnastics. & swimming lessons as soon as she was old enough to be accepted. She excelled at everything she did & I was a proud dad. We went to a water park when she was 5 & I was pressuring her to try a water slide & she says "Dad I'm scared & don't want to" I said "Try it once you do it you will like it" after a little back & forth bickering she says "Daddy, did you bring me here to have fun?" She was right & it struck me like a light. I said "Yes, and Daddy is wrong, you have fun & I will go sit and watch" I might mention at 3 she was a strong swimmer and at 3 going off high dives, but this day I realized how wrong I was to pressure her. Kid need to have fun while they are kids.
I have learned many lessons from my children, and at times I feel they help raise me. Today my baby, who is now 19 and in college didn't know she was teaching her old dad a lesson, but I was alert & watching & she reminded me of something I had forgotten. She has a job, and is attending a local college, but she wants to improve. She has her guideline and she assertively goes about her business. She looks for that better job every chance she gets & she never lets it interfere with her goal when it doesn't pan out.
I was laid off not long ago & haven't had to look for a job for years, and it is more difficult than riding a bike I assure you. I watched her & was reminded what I need to do.
I have learned some lessons in life from all my children & at times reminded of lessons forgotten.

Who Will Follow?

2008-07-08T07:16:00.000-07:00

A country of leaders is a formula for failure. Who will follow when everyone wants to lead? Teach them well & let them lead the way may have a beautiful ring to it, but listen closely & you will hear it's slightly out of tune. Teach them well, but don't teach them they should all be leaders.
I remember teachers scolding students over their progress & asking them, "Do you want to grow up & be a carpenter, mechanic, or work on a garbage truck?" This only teaches our youth to disrespect people of these trades. I for one wouldn't want to live in a world without them. I believe leadership like creativity is something we may or may not be blessed with. A person can have a PHD in art & still not be an artist. I see everyone wanting to lead, but a leader leads without having to be appointed a leader position.
A leader can only be as good & those that follow them & I don't see us teaching the art of following. I've heard it said leadership is like lead in a pencil, and if you sharpen a pencil with no lead, all you have is a sharp stick. Be all you can be & is all anyone can do & that job is difficult enough, & if by chance your a leader I believe it will be revealed just as the stroke of a brush reveals the artist.

Home Grown

2008-07-07T18:40:00.000-07:00

The last few years I have read more & more about food recalls. The recalls have varied from Salmonella to E. Coli & nothing seem immune. From my personal observations it is getting worse.
I can't help but wonder if it's due to better testing, or poor quality controls. I can see part of the problem being large conglomerates & mass production creating situations difficult, expensive , & possibly near impossible to safely guarantee. The time of the small farmer is over, it it may be time for people to grow some of their own food.
I have been growing my own tomatoes, peppers, beans, cucumbers, & herbs for years. Before all the bacteria scares, the insecticides, & other chemicals used have concerned me. Now I also hear about genetically altered crops.
I have been working on a greenhouse that uses solar panels & a wind turbine generator, & requires no external electrical. I live on a small lot & a 12ft X 12ft would be as large as I can hope, but I think even one of this size can produce well.
I have several raised gardens & have had some very good luck with them, but they are seasonal. A greenhouse would give me some year around produce. The older I get the more I like gardening. There is some serenity in gardening, & I do find it a pleasant escape from my day to day grind.
This will help with veggies. The only advice I know for meat is cook it well, or become a vegetarian. I don't think I want to see cows in everyones yard. Gardens on the other hand when done well can add beauty to the yard.

Labeled Complainer

2008-07-07T16:00:00.000-07:00

Recently I was laid off & although the market is slow I know I was on the early list due to a harassment complaint. I had asked the employee to cease, but all he said was there was no way to prove it. I went to my supervisor & months passed & the harassment continued. I asked my supervisor if he had talked with the guy & he tells me he didn't know how to address it. Then he says to me, I have heard you use curse words.
I was not talking curse words I was talking context & let my supervisor know that. Then in a department meeting with all supervisors present he announces to the guy about my complaint. Then the harassment increased, & I am made to looks like the culprit. I called our Corp HR department & asked how to handle it, & I didn't want to file a complaint because I know that would just invite more problems. The atmosphere at work did become more pleasant, but a few months later I was laid off. The plant manager says complaining he expected from hourly employees & not supervisors. I was supervisor or the electrical dept., & the harassment was coming from an engineer.
This is just a sample of the context (Blessed are those that cum in the mouth of the lord, I am queer for Jesus, & I would do him. I like the feel of a mans jism oozing from my ass). I'm sorry if this offends anyone, but if it does you may know why I was offended & feeling harassed.
My faith says it is wrong to sue. We need a system that protects people from this even when they by faith can't sue. This is a Corp that has 750,000 world wide employees, & I think it is sad if this represents the moral character of a company.
This person says this to me on the street I can walk away, & if they follow me & continue I can defend myself, but at work I don't have this luxury. Sadder still is this guys wife is a Methodist Minister.

Sate of the Country

2008-07-06T03:56:00.000-07:00

I look around and am disheartened by what I see happening in the US of A. Don't ask for directions, unless you want to drive in circles. A country that once prided itself with words like liberty, hope, charity, honor, and bravery has somehow lost it's definition. Freedoms are being stolen faster than they can be restored & people almost eagerly cede them over. I have asked many people if they would recognize freedoms lost, and I have been dismayed by their answers.
Freedom for most seems mean wealth, & they just want a nice home, car, money in the bank, and the latest & greatest of material substance. Locked in their home watching TV, playing video games, & stuffing their face is freedom.
The pursuit of happiness is redefined as the pursuit of riches, fame, and power. A video game controller in one hand, a slice of pizza in the other, and a sexy girl sitting on their lap is utopia for most young men today.
When Hilary was still in the presidential race & I ask who people liked the answers I got were troubling. Some wanted Hilary because it was time a women was at the helm, others liked Obama because he is black, still others liked McCain just because they didn't like the other two. People like this one or that one because they were charismatic, they liked or didn't like their laugh, their expressions, how they dressed, and many other superficial reasons. Then of course their are those that always vote all democratic or republican for various reasons, such as because thats how my dad did it. The problem I have with this is, not one of these reasons qualifies anyone to be president.
I can see why many Americans are confused. The mud slinging & character assassinations are the smoke & mirrors on the campaign trail. People are so enthralled with these antics that they don't notice the real issues are being avoided. Most people think the real issue is the economy, but I see greater issues than economy.
We are thought to be the greatest country in the world. We have some of the finest minds anywhere, then why in hell are these the best candidates our country can come up with.
Freedoms lost! Who is protecting our freedoms? Would you notice when another piece of freedom taken?

Saturday

2008-07-06T03:41:00.000-07:00

Faded jeans, T-shirts, and dirty tennis shoes
is what I wore on Saturday to chase away my blues
I'd slip off to the back woods exploring every trail
I was Davie Crockett, Daniel Boone, even William Tell
Was not a tree I didn't climb, a creek I didn't wade
A field of clover anywhere that I did not invade
I was ruler of the forest, I was king of all the land
I was everybody's hero, I was leader of the band
Little boys with fantasies are a magical combination
Let them run, set them free to their imagination
They will remember when their old and gray
They conquered the world one Saturday

Wind

2008-07-06T03:35:00.000-07:00

I hear the wind rushing through the trees

It dances about & does what it please

It may kiss your face, stroke your hair

or cause much destruction & despair

Harnessed the wind will fill your sails

and power your ship through ocean swells

Be cautious for the wind is noones slave

& can strike fear in the heart of the brave