Archive for the ‘Family’ Category
Wednesday, March 1st, 2006
— Month of February workout totals: Swim-5; Bike-4; Run-4; Lift-9; Yoga-5
— David and I spent most of last Saturday at the big National Gun Day event in Louisville. Anyone who has never attended a gun show should go at least once to experience the reality behind the propaganda and stereotypical distortions. The technology, heritage, craftsmanship, and diversity of enthusiasts must be appreciated firsthand. David said it was like visiting the Smithsonian and being able to pick things up without white gloves. I was amazed at one point to look down at a table of rifles and know they were collectively worth more than our Town House. I listened to an old man from New York discuss rare, obsolete cartridge cases. I listened to a guy with braided ponytail, tattoos and Harley shirt discuss arcane Victorian sporting calibers. I listened to a man who recreates authentic Kentucky flintlocks discuss the qualitative difference between his skill level and the work of the contemporary masters of the art form. I listened to a metal engraver contrast his techniques with the kind of wood engraving that I’ve done for printmaking. That’s a sampling of what I’m talking about.
— After the show, David and I drove to Campbellsville to meet up with the ladies. Our destination—Yorkshire Estate. The intent—to observe our first “Open That Bottle Night.” Janet and Jerome were splendid hosts, and the night couldn’t have been more delightful. We began with cheese, olives, and fruit, plus a Chilean Chardonnay, while an Australian Shiraz and a Washington State Cabernet awaited dinnertime in decanters. Using some of my Lake Huron fillets, Janet and Jerome prepared Salmon en Papillote, as Dana seared medallions of venison in balsamic sauce. Along with that, Janet provided some type of individual potato custard delicacies that were simply fantastic. Everything about the candlelight supper was magical, and it only got better when Lee served cookies and chocolate-bourbon cake with an exquisite desert wine brought back from South Africa. If we ever do it again, the evening will be difficult to top, but do it again we shall. Remember—the last Saturday in February is Open That Bottle Night…
— Sunday was another relaxing stay at Simpson Knob. After rediscovering the childhood fun of playing Yahtzee, Dana fixed a delicious broccoli omelette for the four of us and then worked on a food-club order with Lee while David showed me the rifle course he designed for the upcoming match he’s hosting. I shot well enough to think I might be capable of competing, but knew that I’d be spending that day with Clan instead, as a participant in “Operation Watershed.” Something has transpired so gradiently over the past couple years that I can’t say exactly when these exceptional people became two of our closest friends, but it just happened, and it’s gratifying to know that such deep relationships can develop at every stage of life.
— Well, I’m excited about getting a new client today—me. I woke up this morning dedicated to the idea of redesigning everything to do with how we position our design practice. Over the next 30 days I intend to conduct a radical experiment in time management that includes transforming our company for a new chapter of success. The rapid changes in software development and desktop publishing, along with the increasing perception of graphic design as a commodity service, has made it a necessity. Long overdue perhaps, but I’m not in the mood to look in the rearview mirror. I’m prepared to put all I’ve learned to the test, subjecting our own business to the same kind of analytical scrutiny that we apply to any other client. The timing is right. Stay tuned…
V & S
Posted in Business, Dana, Exercise, Family, Firearms, Food, Friends, Priorities, Studio, Wine | Comments Closed
Tuesday, February 28th, 2006
Last day of February, last game for Hayley and her basketball team. They lost a tough one tonight in the first round of the district playoffs—to a team they’d beat decisively in their most recent matchup. She’s probably sad, but she can be proud of a winning season, plus an overall performance as a freshman that was outstanding.
Posted in Family, Sport | Comments Closed
Saturday, February 25th, 2006
Everyone is playing the California Game!
_ _ _
Where is Atlantis? Continent of mud.
Where is the mud? It’s buried in crud.
What is the crud? A dream in decay.
Whose dream was that? They squandered their day.
When was the day? An age of great life.
Why was it great? They abolished all strife.
Who gave it up? The creative few.
What did they make? Themselves, anew.
Where is the self? Enshrined deep within.
Why are they gone? The price of the sin.
_ _ _
Posted in Brendan, Playtime, Verse | Comments Closed
Friday, February 24th, 2006
• Accepting family as her top priority, she put her competitive spirit on standby, but never lost her love of fair play, teaching us that wholesome fun is an essential part of life.
• I could’ve become a quitter, but she helped me overcome discouragement born of self-doubt to meet a commitment and to fulfill a goal.
• When almost everything in the world of my youth said,
“Be cynical, or pessimistic, or both,” she was my reliable source of optimism, like a spring that never dries up.
• “Anything worth doing is worth doing well” was not a stale platitude for her, and she nurtured a regard for craftsmanship. If I distorted that gift into perfectionism, it’s not her fault.
• Quick with praise and slow to criticism, observant eyes without guile and easy laughter is her trademark.
• Pious, yet mischevious; dignified, yet unpretentious; she is naturally self-sacrificing, but nobody’s fool.
• When something bothers her, the discomfort is usually directed inward. If she’s called upon to render judgments, they’ll be reluctant, fair, morally sound, and never demeaning.
• Her belief in me has always been iron-clad, devoid of showy affection, but as steadfast as anything in my life.
• If you’re up to no good, and you see her spinning that broom—trust me—just dive overboard…
HAPPY BIRTHDAY to my “Mombo.” I love you, forever…
Posted in Birthdays, Mombo | Comments Closed
Thursday, February 23rd, 2006
On my way to the pool today I saw Danny loading the John Deere that he’s hauling to Kansas for his son William. You have to know Danny to understand how a conversation about a diesel tractor can shift to theology within a couple minutes. He mentioned the concept that, at certain times, the fate of the whole world can hinge on a single prayer. Merton might have said that, and I don’t doubt it’s true. To believe otherwise would rationalize away the value of all prayer, wouldn’t it? A discussion of accountability followed and then salvation and then the loneliness of Christ’s path. I said, “But his mother was with him at the beginning, and right up to the end, and her role was crucial,” and Danny replied, “So, there you come full circle—with the potential of a single individual to contribute great good or great evil.” As I continued my walk to campus, I couldn’t help but wonder if the Father had tried to send His Son at earlier times, and an angel’s warning had been misunderstood or ignored, so the infant had been slain, along with the guardians. And then I was in total awe of the significance of parenthood in general… with the awesome responsibility of it all. I was filled with gratitude for having such a wonderful mother and happiness that she was still with us. I prayed that it would be so for a long time.
Posted in Awe, Friends, Gratitude, Mombo, Prayer, Priorities | Comments Closed
Tuesday, February 21st, 2006
She’s done it! Mombo has a second entry at her site. Right now it looks as if she makes one each year, but I’m sure that won’t last for long. She’s really started out on an enjoyable note for me—comics and games—and it doesn’t get much better than that (unless she starts reminiscing about toys)!
Posted in Blogging, Family, Mombo, Playtime | Comments Closed
Monday, February 20th, 2006
It took longer than I expected, but my drawing for the Housing Authority was a pleasure to execute. The illustration technique I used was directly inspired by my favorite masters of pen and wash—Jack Unruh, Ken Dallison, Joe Ciardiello, and Alan E. Cober. Dallison is known for his automobiles and Ciardiello for his portraits, but all of them have worked with great breadth of subject matter. I’ve marveled at their skill for decades, but they have a similarity of approach that is close enough to my own capability that I can relate to how they visualize and have learned from their prolific examples. Unruh is exceptional—equally adept at rendering people, places, and the natural world—and I could die happy if I gain a fraction of his ability. Cober, who, of the four, actually did die (happy I hope, although much too young), holds a special place in my personal history. At the height of our indecision concerning what to do about the crumbling situation at Wright State, Dana and I had the opportunity to question him at a workshop. He counseled us to trust and follow our instincts, so the two of us got out together. He was a great adviser to hundreds of talents over the years, and I’m grateful to have been one of them.
Posted in Art, Craftsmanship, Creativity, Dana, Education, Gratitude, Personalities, Priorities, Studio | Comments Closed
Sunday, February 19th, 2006
James and I were laughing about the excessive hype that has surrounded Bode Miller, the faltering American skier, and got into a good conversation about behind-the-scenes commercialization of various Olympic personality types. When humble, dogged, amateur-style athletes prevail over the high-exposure, corporate-style athletes, marketers don’t think they have as much to work with, so often stick with an Olympic failure if their image investment still solves the demographic equation.
Dale Earnhardt’s attitude that a second-place finisher is just the “first loser” may resonate strongly with most gold-medal contenders, but the world of celebrity endorsement is different, and always will be driven more by overall persona than actual competitive results. That’s why you can expect advertising executives to be much more attracted to a cute snowboarder‘s impulsive screw-up than a veteran skier‘s credo of Olympic longevity—
“Spend a lot time on the hill, spend time training, and then, if you work hard over a long period of time, with a lot of focus, good things will happen to you in the end, and… use your head while you’re having fun.”
Posted in Business, Current Events, Family, James, Personalities, Priorities, Sport | Comments Closed
Saturday, February 18th, 2006
Man with his car in the ditch, waving sadly as he waits for a tow truck.
400 yards of footprints in the fresh snow, to find two brothers at Still-house Spring.
One of Dadbo’s last ‘coon boxes, rotting in a treetop along Sledding Hill Road.
Four tofu burgers frying in a skillet, beside a pot of Mombo’s vegetable soup.
Frank the long-shot candidate, grinning broadly from his campaign card.
The veteran Norwegian biathlete, collapsing to his knees at the finish line.
Chalkboard calculations and a Honchovian decision to define the day’s effort.
An ancient wheelbarrow and a gutted Gravely, rusting in the cluttered barn.
Tiny newborn bunnies, nestled for warmth in a bunting of mother’s fur.
Dana’s cranberry coffee cake, golden brown and fresh from the oven.
Posted in Dadbo, Dana, Family, Home, Mombo | Comments Closed
Friday, February 17th, 2006
• I flipped away the afternoon again at the Rotary Club’s annual Pancake Day, where I foolishly tried to expand my exalted reputation by attempting to make a cake with the shape of a Salvation Army Shield. I blistered the edge of my hand on the hot griddle and experienced the same agony of defeat as poor Lindsey Jacobellis. After that, Dana and I went into the city for the Gallery Hop, so I could participate in the reception at the Carnegie Center for Literacy and Learning. The “Art of the Alphabet” exhibition was a hit with all ages, and the original print of my letter H was the second one to sell. Steve Houston of Texas bought it for his daughter because all of the images present in the montage held significant meaning for him and his family. Quite remarkable.
… graybeard prospector …
Posted in Art, Community, Dana, Food, Letters, Personalities, Sport | Comments Closed
Tuesday, February 14th, 2006
• We started another day together, when it was her turn to bring me a cup of coffee, and before long we were listening to Charles Matkin say, “Change comes over time, with hard work, focus, and repetition.”
• I told her to shun me until I broke the spine of my illustration assignment from the Danville Housing Authority. The only reason these things are ever difficult is because they come so few and far between.
• During my pool workout, as I finished a 200-yard sprint, she was already done with her walk and stopped by to watch me.
• I was over the hump on my ink drawing when she invited me to share her delectable dinner of butternut and Greek lamb chops. We toasted our enduring affection—spare, yet fully formed, like a bonsai.
• We started another year together, when it was time to stuff 2005 into the archives and breathe again. If we can get through something like that, side by side, perhaps we can still tackle our dreams.
• Long ago, they stuck us in a basement office together, so we made the most of it—for a lifetime.
HAPPY VALENTINE’s DAY to my “partner in all things.” I love you, forever…
Posted in Dana, Holidays | Comments Closed
Monday, February 13th, 2006
• She might’ve been my first teacher; I might’ve been her first student.
• We took the stage together, faced the crowd together, and danced in the hot lights together. We didn’t get paid, but it was “show-biz” all the same. We were an “act”, and we quit at the top of our game.
• Speaking of games, our first ones didn’t come in boxes, across a wire, nor on a disc. We invented them, and we’ve been “players” ever since.
• Together, we observed the strange world around us, and the language available was insufficient, so we made up our own vocabulary to augment it. We shared it with those who would listen, and it met with their approval. They made their own contributions and helped pass it on to a new generation.
• She blazed a trail of achievement, so I followed it into the peaks of the high country. “I can do this, too,” I thought, so I blazed a trail of experimentation, but my trail descended into the bogs of the low country. During my journey back, she never lost faith in me, nor placed conditions on her love. She always remains the teacher, through her joys and her heartaches, and now I’m only one of those who follow her trail. It’s never been an easy trail, but it’s always been a good one. Blaze on, my lifelong companion. Blaze on.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY to my “big sis.” I love you, forever…
Posted in Birthdays, Joan | Comments Closed
Friday, February 10th, 2006
• Opening a statement from the Social Security Administration did not get my day off on the right track, and it began to go downhill from there. Fortunately, I was able to recover a bit by putting some good sales moves on the Republican candidate for Boyle County Judge Executive, who will definitely need a high-credibility graphic image as part of any success campaign to unseat the entrenched incumbent. After that, I attended the opening of “4 Seasons — 4 Directions,” Kathleen’s inspiring collage exhibition at Danville’s Community Arts Center. By evening, Dana and I were in Berea with Lee and David, eating delicious Thai food and learning English Country Dance—so the day ended fully back on its proper rails.
… graybeard prospector …
Posted in Angst, Art, Business, Community, Dana, Dance, Food, Friends, Political Affairs | Comments Closed
Tuesday, February 7th, 2006
During his dialysis treatment on Saturday, it was discovered that Bruce had a fever, so the doctor decided to admit him back into the hospital for observation and a new course of antibiotics.
His wife did not let his mother know for two days.
Ok, I’ve typed and published it, but I’ll admit to first having reflected on the Four-Way Test of Rotary International—
• Is it the TRUTH?
Yes.
• Is it FAIR to all concerned?
Accuracy does not equal fairness, but there is no intent to be unfair.
• Will it build GOODWILL and BETTER FRIENDSHIPS?
Don’t count on it.
• Will it be BENEFICIAL to all concerned?”
Truthful exposure is not always appropriate, but eventually most facts are made plain, and benefits accrue in the long run to those who accept accountability.
Whether or not I flunked the famous test is subject to individual interpretation. Please read the collection of entries about Bruce for a record of my sincere thoughts and feelings during his lengthy illness.
Until further notice, it might be best for everyone involved if
“Uncle John” suspended continued commentary on this particular subject.
We now return this log to its regularly scheduled wisdom.
Posted in Blogging, Family | Comments Closed
Monday, February 6th, 2006
In Memoirs of a Geisha, the main character reflects on the advice of her mother, who taught that water, with time, can cut through the hardest rock, and, when blocked, will always find another way.
Why is it that everywhere I shift my attention, I’m reminded of the power of persistent, repetitive action? Is the universe using the method itself to make sure the concept gradually penetrates my stubborn personality?
When I look over the past dozen years or so, the most noticeable change I can recognize in myself is the transformation to high physical activity from a sedentary mode. It wasn’t initially inspired by a dream. Rather, it grew out of an apprehensive realization that I undoubtedly carried the same predisposition to heart disease that had claimed my father’s life. Out of weakness came strength—increment by increment, workout by workout, mile by mile.
So, there I have it. Out of my weakness to believe that I could achieve without grinding, habitual effort my dream—a dynamic life on the land, making art from a studio in the Knobs—can come a new practice and ritual which is the only course that will ever take me there. Yes, there will be obstacles and inner resistance. At times, the water will need to find an alternative path, but there is no alternative to the necessity of the “drill.” No other way than through the power of focused routine, and a life of productive habit.
Once again, I must read the words of Emerson and let them sink in—
In chemistry, the galvanic stream, slow, but continuous, is equal in power to the electric spark, and is, in our arts, a better agent. So in human action, against the spasm of energy, we offset the continuity of drill. We spread the same amount of force over much time, instead of condensing it into a moment.
Once more.
And again…
Posted in Art, Dadbo, Exercise, Family, Movies, Nature, Nonfiction, Priorities, Time | Comments Closed
Sunday, February 5th, 2006
The overdue arrival of winter weather kept our annual Super Bowl Sunday mountain bike ride up in the air until midday. No additional precipitation and a sliver of blue sky tipped the balance, so we gathered in Forkland to face the four-knob challenge. Ben, Brian, and the other hard climbers took off in a fast pack. By contrast, the rest of us set out at a pace that gave us a shot at finishing the day in one piece. With a double layer of socks and running shoes, I wasn’t surprised that my toes still went numb at times, but I wasn’t expecting the wind chill to cut through my neoprene scuba-diving gloves (one of the best gifts Jerome ever gave me). Let’s just say it was brisk out there, but I never really found myself second-guessing the choice to go through with the ride. With great companionship, a stunning vista of remote, snow-clad woods, abundant running creeks and cascades, plus the opportunity to test the value of my recent gym workouts, it was an envigorating, worthwhile afternoon, and proves that cycling can be a rewarding fitness activity in Central Kentucky any time of the year.
Posted in Exercise, Family, Friends, Nature | Comments Closed
Saturday, February 4th, 2006
Twyla Tharp makes clear throughout her invaluable book that creative consistency can only be achieved when the artist pushes beyond talent and desire to infuse work with an ethic of ritual. Not even skill, imagination, research, or planning will compensate for the lack of a daily habit of constructive focus. Emerson calls it “drill.”
Both of them describe a level of disciplined concentration with which I have personal experience, but only for relatively brief spells in my life. I’ve always felt relieved to settle back into a more multi-dimensional frame of mind. I never understood how the focused state could be harnessed as a positive habit pattern because I wasn’t convinced there was any reason to do so. My self-image as a hard worker coexisted with a misplaced desire to indulge my aversion to structured, regimented, predictable behavior. I built an entire lifestyle around it, but, to be frank, I haven’t built much else.
I was talking to my brother James last night and when he asked what was going on with me, I replied without thinking, “You should read my blog.”
I knew it was lame as soon as I said it. His not unkind reply was that he just didn’t have the time. I wasn’t surprised, but I still carried a vague sense of disbelief for the rest of the night until I finished Emerson’s “Power” before bed.
The one prudence in life is concentration; the one evil is dissipation: and it makes no difference whether our dissipations are coarse or fine; property and its cares, friends, and a social habit, or politics, or music, or feasting. Everything is good which takes away one plaything and delusion more, and drives us home to add one stroke of faithful work.
The thinker likens the severe limiting of miscellaneous activity to an orchard-man’s pruning which “forces the sap of the tree into one or two vigorous limbs, instead of suffering it to spindle into a sheaf of twigs.”
It’s not too late for me to take the step from knowing to doing. Typically for me, it’ll be easier said than done. Twyla would stomp her foot and shout, “Begin!”
Now that I’ve convinced everyone to stop reading this blog, I’d better quit. Or perhaps I should revisit my own misgivings from my very first entry over a year ago.
Posted in Blogging, Creativity, Family, James, Nonfiction, Personalities, Priorities, Time | Comments Closed
Friday, February 3rd, 2006
This is one of those moments when I think that I didn’t begin to get a real education until after the age of 50, when I finally settled for me as a teacher.
Me said, “It’s not too late to learn how to think.” I answered, “Ok, Me. Let’s get started.”
Joan was kind enough to make some of Joe Wood’s books available, and there was one I accepted with particular seriousness—“The Conduct of Life,” a collection of essays by Ralph Waldo Emerson.
Perhaps true book-larnin’ doesn’t take place until one can center on an idea or theme after confronting it from multiple directions.
A good start, but there’s little chance a revelation will be internalized until put into actual practice.
Here is something I just read from the essay called “Power”—
When Michel Angelo was forced to paint the Sistine Chapel in fresco, of which art he knew nothing, he went down into the Pope’s gardens behind the Vatican, and with a shovel dug out ochres, red and yellow, mixed them with glue and water with his own hands, and having, after many trials, at last suited himself, climbed his ladders, and painted away, week after week, month after month, the sibyls and prophets. He surpassed his successors in rough vigor, as much as in purity of intellect and refinement. He was not crushed by his one picture left unfinished at last. Michel was wont to draw his figures first in skeleton, then to clothe them with flesh, and lastly to drape them. “Ah!” said a brave painter to me, thinking on these things, “if a man has failed, you will find he has dreamed instead of working. There is no way to success in our art, but to take off your coat, grind paint, and work like a digger on the railroad, all day and every day.”
Posted in Art, Education, Family, Joan, Nonfiction, Personalities | Comments Closed
Wednesday, February 1st, 2006
— Month of January workout totals: Swim-5; Bike-2; Run-2; Lift-8; Yoga-13
— Most who know me are aware that I ran—this is where I always have to stop and clarify or say something like “traversed under my own power,” since “ran” is not appropriately descriptive nor entirely accurate—50 miles on my 50th birthday. Later that same year I finished the Chicago Marathon under five hours. That’s my experience with long-distance running. At times I wonder why I didn’t keep it up, but usually I just wonder why I still feel any need at all to stay in running, biking, and swimming condition to be within striking distance of performing a triathlon. Well, it’s important to cross-train, I tell myself, and besides, staying in triathlon shape is not extreme, it’s just what I consider the baseline of physical fitness. I used to think of extreme as my friend who completed over 80 marathon runs, including one in all 50 states and all 7 continents (yes, I know, Antarctica). Or maybe extreme could be defined as competing in “Ironman” triathlons—a 2.4-mile swim, followed by a 112-mile bike ride, and then a 26-mile marathon on top of it, all in one day. And then I heard about the Hardrock Hundred, a 100-mile race that takes place in the mountains of Colorado. Is that extreme or what? Actually there are those who don’t think that’s enough of a challenge, and push the idea of extreme out to the borderlands of madness—the World Championship Quintuple Iron Triathlon. Believe it or not, that’s a distance equivalent to five Ironmans. There’a guy from Louisville who did it. He finished seventh, with a time that set a new U.S. record. A 12-mile swim, 560-mile bike, and 131-mile run. After four days, nine hours, and 40 minutes, he hobbled across the finish line, his body well into the process of cannibalizing his own muscle tissue. Do you think that’s extreme? Now try this—next November there’s a race in Mexico that requires ten Ironmans in ten days, and the Iron Kentuckian is thinking about an attempt. When I heard that I thought about the Athenian warrior Phidippides, who ran what’s considered to be the first marathon in the year 490 BC. He expired. We’ll keep you posted.
— The previous blurb brings to mind a recent article in Money Magazine that one of our clients brought to our attention. Jason Zweig explains in “The Thrill is Wrong” that the new science of “neuroeconomics” is helping investors understand that brain metabolism may cause us to make bad money decisions in much the same way we make bad decisions about food, drink, drugs and sex. Maybe they should add exercise to that list.
— After delivering my finished exhibition print to the Carnegie Center, Dana and I had a nice carnitas dinner in Lexington and then settled down to watch a late screening of Memoirs of a Geisha. I knew I’d enjoy it—actually, much more than Marshall’s “Chicago,” even though it’s garnered less acclaim—as I knew I’d enjoy “The Last Samurai,” because I can easily overlook the flaws in a picture like this. When the production design for a Japan-based story is this awesome, I can never leave the theater disappointed. I must make a note to check out any movie with set decoration by Gretchen Rau. It bothered me that they cast the two female leads with Chinese and Malaysian stars, but I think I was bothered more by the idea of it, going into the theatre, than during the feature. Ziyi Zhang deserved an Oscar nomination. It’s a powerful story, probably a better book, and almost worth the outrageous ticket price. Ken Watanabe is excellent once again, and I always get a kick out of seeing Mako pop up with his trademark scowl, even for less than a minute of screen time.
V & S
Posted in Dana, Exercise, Food, Friends, History, Movies, Nonfiction, Personalities, Studio | Comments Closed
Monday, January 30th, 2006
Bruce‘s visible energy level was dramatically better today, a relief after several days of obvious discomfort and fatigue. This morning we had a visit from ND, who was kind enough to spend some time telling the account of his own horrible ordeal with pancreatitis, defiance of death, and long recovery. Believe it or not, his personal saga dares to upstage even Bruce’s amazing story, proving the adage that someone else has always experienced something worse—two years in the hospital, with a year of that without food, and over 80 surgical procedures. Even though his wife was a nurse, she couldn’t handle the intensity and walked away after the first two months. His internal organs were kept outside of this body in plastic for days until his abdominal cavity was clean enough to accept them back. His weight dropped from around 225 to under 70 pounds. He had to overcome countless temptations to give up or take his own life.
ND is an incredible man, with a depth of belief that was thoroughly tested. He is enormously blessed and gives full credit to the grace of God, without reservation. Very new people on this earth are alive to tell such a story, and I’m withholding his name to honor his privacy. He doesn’t talk about this on a regular basis and only to those he thinks will be receptive to the meaning of his personal testimony.
Sitting with ND and experiencing Bruce’s reaction has started to work some kind of quiet change in my attitude. Last year, Bruce always told me he’d get well enough to come back to Clan Valley. I have a new level of trust and respect for his ability to make judgments and decisions about his own life and the difficult challenges he’ll continue to face in the months ahead. Dana and Terie are driving him home, and how he chooses to deal with the various dysfunctional situations in his Indianapolis environment is something he’s capable of handling in his own way and in his own time. I believe he’ll do the best he can, and he’ll ask for help or advice if that’s what he decides he needs. Otherwise, he has my love, encouragement, and prayers for his complete recovery.
If you don’t think it can happen, it’s probably because you haven’t met the man who sat in my living room today, who lives each day as a gift from the Almighty, runs his own small business, and is back to benching more weight than I’ve ever dreamed of putting on the bar.
Posted in Dana, Family, Prayer, Priorities | Comments Closed
Sunday, January 29th, 2006
In spite of a lengthy planning meeting at the Clan Hall, our soldier celebrated being at home with his family. During a break in the deliberations, Rita took a group portrait outside, and then the cake was cut. Joan insisted on eating Joshie’s head. The long day ended with Dana taking Bruce to the ER after his visit to the farm. Jerome put in some overtime to help identify symptoms of medication withdrawal that were alleviated. Bruce improved so rapidly that he walked home from the hospital.
Posted in Bruce, Dana, Family, Jerome, Joan, Josh | Comments Closed
Friday, January 27th, 2006
Seems like more than the usual number of thought-provoking statistics have come to my attention recently, or maybe I’ve just been paying more attention lately when I hear them.
I learned that 40,000 American are now over the age of 100. That’s rather encouraging. I suppose I’ve had that personal target myself for awhile, at least since I first learned about Josie Dixon’s longevity. Uncle Clarence is giving it the old college try. Each generation to follow will have a better shot at it.
More discouraging is the fact that 500,000 American children are now living in foster homes. One in ten children are born to teen mothers and it’s probably significantly higher in Kentucky. One in five children grow up in poverty, but it’s obvious that poverty is defined differently than when I was a kid in the 1950s. We ran barefoot in the summer, wore hand-me-downs, and got only a few new, modestly priced toys each year, and only at Christmas. In elementary school there was the opportunity to buy a popsicle in the afternoon (before or after recess, I don’t recall), and they cost a nickel. I don’t remember ever having one of those popsicles unless a friend shared one with me. I didn’t have the remotest sense of being “poor,” and, looking back on it, I don’t think we were. Today, many “poor” children have video game consoles, cable TV, and stylish clothing. To me, being poor in the 21st century is less about material things. 40% of American boys are being raised without biological dads.
A new poll says that 91% of Americans believe in God and 87% think there’s a heaven. Only 67% believe there’s a devil, but 74% report they believe in hell.
Do I believe in heaven?
I believe in God, and because there is a God, there must exist somewhere in His creation the perfect abode for the soul… the highest state of being in unity with the Creator.
Do I believe in hell?
I believe in God, and because there is a God, there must exist somewhere in His creation a place where justice is meted out to those who commit the greatest evils… a place for those who ordered the trench assaults of World War I, for those who behead noncombatants in front of video cameras, for those who torture children and then, in response to their pleas for mercy, rape them to death.
And I believe there is a devil because of the previous sentence.
Posted in Current Events, Death, Family, Friends, History | Comments Closed
