Hunger

I am a fat guy. Have been a fat guy on and off for years now. Currently working to eat right and exercise and drop some pounds. Having some success. I don't really understand hunger. I know what it is to be hungry in that I have had my stomach growl in the hours between meals. But I have had much more concern with what my next meal would be than whether or not I would have my next meal.

Even when I was young and my parents had very little money with three children, I never missed a meal. I never even felt the stress my parents felt in finding ways to feed us. I came to the table, sat down at my spot and maybe even complained because the meal was not from McDonald's. But there was always food on my plate. I never had to miss a meal because there was no food in the house.

The idea of hungry people here in America has always been so strange to me. At a young age, I understood that we were indeed a land of plenty. You can just walk down the aisle of any grocery store in this country and see that we have plenty. In the years since I was a child the offerings at the local grocery store have expanded to include exotic gourmet items that were never seen in my small town world except on television.

My wife and I seek out new restaurants to try dishes and delicacies that we have never had before. There are TWO whole television networks focused on food as art and entertainment. There are countless shows on other networks that also feature food and chefs. There are all sorts of festivals and competitions that showcase the acumen of professional and amateur cooks alike. This is a land of plenty.

And yet there are people who are hungry. I am not a bleeding heart. Far from it. I am politically just to the right of Attila the Hun. And that is still just to the left of my dad. My dad was conservative and tended to vote Republican with a layering of Libertarianism ladled on to maintain succulence. I, like my father, believe that you deserve in this world only those things that you can work for and earn.

People lament that the rich have a better life with the best of everything. They have the best food and the best wine, the prettiest spouses, the fastest cars, the biggest houses, and the best medical care. How unfair that those of us less well off have to settle for less. The argument is that the rich don't deserve all of this just because they have more money.

I think they do. If you have worked hard enough and long enough and well enough at a line of work that garners riches, you are entitled to all that they can provide. That means they DESERVE the best food and wine and spouses and cars and houses and even medical care. I honestly believe this even though I am squarely in the middle of the middle class.

I fundamentally oppose any and all government programs that offer a hand out to people who have failed at life. I know that calling people failures is probably horrific to most of you. But if you are in a place where you cannot feed and house yourself and your family, then you are a failure in life. Choosing any other way to describe it is just sugar coating a situation that does nothing to make a situation better.

But I have the same weakness that my father had. I am content in sentencing adults to live with the consequences of their choices in life with no help from the government ( I do endorse charitable organizations that help the poor - they are able to set boundaries on the help they offer). But I have a weakness for children. Children have played no part in the failings of their parents. It is unfair in the extreme to have children bear the burden of the failures of their parents.

Any limits you set on hand outs would impact the children of the parents. It would impact the innocent. And people like me are not the only ones who know of this loop hole. My mom once had a woman on welfare explain to her that she was going to have to have another child soon. Her youngest was about to start school and this would result in a reduction in her benefits since she would be able to go out and get a job while the child was in school. This woman had done the math and realized that if she had her fifth child within the next 10 months or so, she could continue to not work.

How do you deal with that and not punish her five kids who have done nothing wrong but be born to a waste of life? I think I would be more comfortable with government assistance to people if you could put strict limits on what they were able to do with the funds.

I worked in a convenience store as a teenager and got to read the directions for handling the food stamps program. Part of the structure was that we were to offer no guidance to anyone using the stamps for purchases, such as pointing out that hamburger is cheaper than steak. Again, part of the reason that I like private institutions that address hunger and homelessness is that they can impose restrictions on their help in a way the government feels that it cannot. If you are drunk out of your gourd, then you do not get to sleep in the church shelter kind of thing.

There is an idea that poor folks should have the same rights as everyone else when it comes to their assistance from the government. Again, I disagree. If you cannot pay own way, you have to play by a special set of rules that the rest of us don't. I think you ought to have to have regular drug testing to receive benefits since you might not need benefits if you were not spending your cash on drugs. I think you should have to spend a portion of each day doing something in the service of the state - even if it is something done from home to avoid child care expenses.

But even here, we are faced with what to do if a person violates any of the proscriptions applied to them since if you cut them off, their kids are cut off. That is a horrible side effect. I know people who grew up hungry as a direct result of the dereliction of their parents.

I have had long conversations with friends who hated summer vacation. When they were in school they were assured of at least one meal each day. During the summer there were literally days where they did not eat at all. The family was not on any sort of assistance since both parents worked and produced plenty of money. The money just went to drugs instead of things like food for the kids or the electric bill or rent. I have no personal experience with that kind of horror.

There is no solution I can see to that kind of situation. Nobody knew (at least no one willing to take action) what was going on. And there are no means of addressing this kind of abuse unless someone says something. The kids just go hungry.

But one radical idea (that I struggle with) keeps coming back to me when dealing with those who would have the rest of us subsidize them. I admit that this idea makes me terribly uncomfortable, but as times get tougher and tougher, it begins to seem more and more plausible. If you accept assistance from the rest of us, you must submit mandatory birth control.

I know, I know. Terribly invasive, but only if you ask us to come into your life financially. The logic would be that, if you cannot provide for your family now, why should you allow your family to get any larger? I can hear people now talking about the infringement on rights and how rich people don't have to face this kind of thing. Agreed, but rich people are not asking me for money.

And it addresses the issue of being able to turn off benefits that would hurt children. If people are kept from re-populating the needy, eventually we would have some families off the welfare rolls in direct opposition to the woman in my mom's story. I know. I am a horrible person for wanting to do this to poor disenfranchised people. I know.

But in a land of plenty we need to come up with some ideas that will allow us to help those who need the help without continuing the culture of dependence that sees generations of a family dependent on the government. We have to help and we have to help on a grand scale. But we have to curtail this idea that help comes with no strings attached.

The rest of us are only allowed to live the kind of life we can afford. The poorest of us that need our help should have to live a life that matches what they can afford. That means limits and conditions placed on them from the ones that provide the money. Just like you and I abide by the rules of our employers. If we could set parameters on how help was given, there would be more "help" available to be given. How much more legitimately needy people could be helped within our flawed government system if we did this?

Much of this whole argument would be alleviated if each of us did more to help our fellow man. Take some time (and money) this year to help others. Find a charitable organization, research it, and if it actually helps people, then find ways to support it. Take your nose out of your own problems for a while and if you have lived my life, discover that there are others out there that have had a much, much tougher time than you have. Enjoy your life and the rewards you have earned but leave a spot in your budget to help those who are less fortunate that you are. If we all did this to the extent that we are capable, this issue would shrink considerably.

And keep an eye out for kids who play with your kids and go to school with your kids who go to sleep hungry tonight. They are out there and they are probably silent about it. Help them too. If you have kids and you have a problem with drugs and alcohol, find a program, find help. No matter what demons are chasing you, don't let them have your kids.

There are people hungry in this land of plenty. Children in America go to sleep having not eaten all day and with the assurance that they will not eat in the morning either. That is horrible and shameful. I think we conservatives have to commit to do more. I think the liberals of our country have to admit that benefits with no strings only serves to create a culture of dependence. This problem is fixable, but we all have to do our part. If we don't, if we continue to fail to deal with this, then we condemn children to continue to face an all consuming hunger.

Give Them the Trophy Now

Sports are a fun diversion. They allow us to all feel like experts since we can play a muted version of what we see on TV in our backyards. We can all feel lifted up when our teams do well and outraged when forces conspire to work against our teams.

And we love sports in this country. The next time you are out shopping, look at your watch and see how long it takes you to see ten people wearing some sort of sports endorsement clothing. We get immersed in the ebb and flow of the fortunes of those teams that we have chosen to follow. But why?

I think the largest part of the charm of sports is that there is so much that is black and white. There are winners and losers, catches and interceptions, sacks and great blocks. There are home runs and basket catches, runs batted in and bang, bang plays at first, and earned run averages and suicide squeezes. There is clarity and definition in sports in a way that most of our lives don't have.

Are you a good parent? How do you know? Is the Big Bang Theory accurate? Does it contradict the Bible or clarify it? Where is Jimmy Hoffa buried? Is Jimmy Hoffa even dead? See what I mean?

That is what has become so frustrating this year in college football. Earlier this year we had a game between the two best teams in the country (I think - we don't have a playoff in college football). Louisiana State University beat Alabama in a defensive battle. Okay. So LSU is at least better than Alabama this year based on this game.

Now Alabama nor LSU have lost since and every other team out there has at least one loss. Oklahoma State University has one loss to an inferior opponent (I think - we have no playoff system in college football), but has beaten two top ten teams (I think - we have no playoff in college football) while Alabama has not beaten any top ten teams (I think - we have no playoff in college football).

Now I know all the Bama fans are all too eager to have the rematch and I don't seriously expect them to ever agree to exclude their team from the championship game. But how can you put Bama in at the expense of OSU? Didn't Bama already have a chance to beat LSU (in Alabama, by the way) and failed? It makes no sense to me.

But this rematch is exactly the championship game that we have now. And here is the biggest reason that I don't like it. It will not generate a black and white result if LSU does not win. If Bama wins they will have beaten LSU on a neutral site. LSU will still have beaten Bama on Bama's home turf. That cries out for a third game to settle everything. If you don't have the third game to settle things, isn't LSU's win on Bama's home turf more impressive and deserving of more first place votes? Shouldn't LSU be the National Champion no matter who wins the National Championship game?

I think so but we don't have a playoff in college football so I can't be sure.

Best of Intentions...

Read a comment from one of the Presidential candidates the other day concerning child labor laws. The politico thought that a lot of the provisions of our child labor laws actually work against the poor of this country. He reasoned that union janitors at schools could all be fired (costs savings for the school district and its tax payers) and you could have a janitorial supervisor with students from the school paid to maintain the school for a couple of hours each day after or before class.

His thinking was that students would learn the value and pride of work, that they would have a vested interest in their school, and that they would actually have a small income to help the family.

After I read his remarks I read the comments posted on line from my fellow readers. Almost all of them derided the notion. Some of them were merely pro-unions and I can understand folks having strong beliefs on that front. But what concerned me, even though I was expecting it and it was why I chose to read the comments in the first place, was the fact that so many HATED the idea of school children working.

They felt the whole idea was tantamount to abuse. I found myself shaking my head. Despite the hostility of the comments, I tried to remind myself that this was probably a cultural difference. In the south, it is not unusual at all for kids to spend their summers working in the fields on the farm. Some kids spend their afternoons after school working on farms and such as well.

I was out at my dad's sawmill every summer from the time I was twelve. I also had a part time job during the school year at a convenience store every Wednesday, Saturday, and Sunday nights and alternating Friday's. The jobs provided spending money for me and bought all my school clothes each year. It also supplemented my parent's grocery money since my dad decided that after the first three meals that they provided, I had to provide my own fourth, fifth, sixth, and sometimes seventh meal of each day.

I would say it provided date money but I was not much of a ladies man in high school. That is a whole other embarrassing story of social inadequacy.

The jobs did not pay much and were not pleasant and I am proud to say that I have never made so little money ever again. But I learned that money was nice to have and that to have it, you have to work for it. I learned that what was so difficult to earn was startlingly easy to spend. And I learned that making more money did not necessarily make me happier. All good lessons to learn and to learn early in life.

And while my experiences helped my family a little, I had a friend in high school whose work actually provided for his family. His dad had a heart attack when we were sophomores in high school and his dad could not work and his mom had to leave her job to take care of his dad. My friend got an afternoon job at a Walmart Distribution Center and literally became the primary bread winner in his family for the next two years until his mother was able to go back to work.

No government program or helping hand from his neighbors could have matched what Walmart paid him. Now this was back before changes in the law led Walmart to only employ people over the age of eighteen in its warehouses. These rules were designed to protect young people just as child labor laws were supposed to prevent the exploitation of children.

But have these laws led to a generation that has no appreciation for work? Do they prevent all members of a family from working together to provide for themselves? I think so.

We have a huge number of young people that have not had a chance to see how the real word works (no pun intended). Behaviors in school (where you have a right to attend) can be more outlandish than at a job (a place where you have to prove your value to belong).

You actually have to show up and produce at a job. You don't get any participatory trophies. I have had to sit down and fire people who were perpetually late or absent. Its the kind of thing that might get you held back at school, but not the kind of thing that would get you thrown out altogether.

I don't want nine year-old children working in coal mines or defusing bombs in the Middle East, but I think some form of employment should be made available to those young people who want to work. Being able to have your own spending money in your pocket and to be able to help your family can be a point of pride and a source of comfort. Well intended laws designed to protect may be doing more harm than good.

Jobs at a school are a good option. Jobs at place in the service industry are another. Like I said before, farms have always provided a place for young people. Walmart Distribution Centers are surprisingly safe places for people around 16 or so - one needs to be adult enough to respect the actual dangers.

Some will argue that the kids will be taking jobs from the adults and not solving anything. I subscribe to the belief that the person who wants the job bad enough will keep it. I also wonder if the added revenue of these newly employed kids might stir the economy and actually create even more jobs. At any rate, it seems patently unfair to deny people who want to work and who would benefit the most from it, a chance to actually hold a job.

At least that is how I see it.

Stray Thoughts Part 6 - How Many Sequels Before An Idea is Tapped Out?

George Strait

Go listen to George Strait. I don't care if you sit behind him in the restaurant and listen to him read the menu, just find a way to listen to the man. Go to Youtube.com when you have a weekend free and sit by the computer and smile vacantly. Country silk - that is one way to describe him. The Sinatra of country music is another. Absolutely the epitome of manly vulnerability with a voice that Angels think, "that's just heavenly."

My wife loves the "The Chair" and it is absolutely beautifully done by Mr. Strait. I happen to think she loves it more for the fact that her Grandfather really loved the song too and would sing it when he came up behind one of his daughters or granddaughters when they were sitting in a chair he wanted. But it is a great story song. And Strait is a great story teller with a sense of timing, suspense, and romance and a voice that is milky soft.

I guess his cowboy hat has always been too big for him to be a cross over star the way others have been after him, but I would love to hear him cover Sinatra and Crosby and any ballad from any other artist ever. He is one of those folks you never want to have cover your big hit - you won't ever be able to play it again without feeling second best. That is flat out talent - cowboy hat and all.

Lock the Freaking Door (or simply "Bloop")

My wife and I lived together before we were married. We always had multiple bedrooms and multiple bathrooms and tried to make it work out as best we could. We even maintained the separate bathrooms for a while after marriage because I know that even among very manly men, I produce, how shall I type it..., very potent by-products of digestion. I never wanted my wife to be exposed to such things, but a life together leads to all sorts of exchanges that single people never think they will have to endure.

We need to discuss the fact that I was raised in a house that only had one bathroom. One bathroom and three brothers. Friday nights, we would all be showering, shaving, evacuating (if you know what I mean) while the bathroom was occupied. My mom would even do her make-up while we were showering and we would have to tell her, "Coming out!" so she could evacuate the room for drying purposes.

This affected my sense of the closed door bathroom. If the door is locked, then you are doing something that requires privacy, and usually, a sitting position. If the door is unlocked, you are showering behind a curtain or putting on make-up or brushing your teeth. Got my thinking? Good. That will prove important in a paragraph or so.

Priscilla and I were getting ready to go out, but had not settled on where we were going. We were still in the single, but living together phase of our relationship. I had told her I loved her. About a week later, she had told me the same. We were still in that excited to show the other something NEW phase. While we were getting ready, I thought of this great restaurant we could go to that night.

I went over to her side of the house and did not find her in her bedroom getting ready. I saw that her bathroom door was closed and asked, "honey, are you in there?"

To which she replied," Yeah, baby. What do you need?"

I opened the UNLOCKED bathroom door and replied, " I was thinking we could....."

That was all that I could say. My speech center in my brain is apparently closely located and shares an electrical transformer with the "Oh, Holy Crap!" part of my brain since I was rendered speechless.

Sitting there, on a porcelain throne, was my beloved. She was not speechless. She was not only able to speak, she was able to speak LOUDLY.

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING? GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE! WHAT ARE YOU DOING? OUT! OUT! OUT! OUT! OUT!"

I stood there for a second or six trying to say what I was thinking, "Why would the door be unlocked if you were in here doing this? Why would you not have the door locked? Why aren't you just brushing your teeth or doing make-up or brushing your hair? You know I had 2 brother and only one bathroom when I grew up and we had to share...."

"BLOOP"

SOMETHING had hit the water.

I felt my eyes go wide - as wide as they possibly could and still stay within the confines of my skull.

My future and current wife simply stated in a voice that would make James Earl Jones jealous, "OUT!"

Cowardice in the Face of Talent

Whether you believe it or not, I am pretty good at this writing thing. At least as good as some of the people that I have seen published. Not all of them mind you. Steinbeck and Asimov and Card and Nietzsche and Bendis and Bujold and Herbert are just some of my favorites who are better than me - or at least as good as me. But they all have something in common that I do not. They have all received a rejection letter from some publisher who thought they did not have what it took to be a successful writer.

I have never received any such missive. I have never had a story rejected by any publisher no matter how great or how small. There is a very simple explanation for this feat of consistency - I have never submitted a work to be judged by anyone who could be an expert at evaluating talent.

That is not entirely true. While a senior in high school I submitted a short story of teen suicide to a "young author's conference" that all of the local teachers loved and that they wanted the featured author to take with her as a sample of what small town south GA could produce. But since I only had the one copy, I had to keep my original and send her a copy once I had made one.

The short story was passed around the bus on the way home once everyone had heard of the interest of the author and the teacher. I was elated that everyone wanted to read my work. When we arrived home, the short story was no longer on the bus. I had been too busy getting into Kay's pants to watch where it went and I now believe it floated out the window on a wave of jealousy.

But that episode does not excuse my cowardice since then. I have written all kinds of stories and have had all sorts of ideas since then that should have been marketable. Indeed, there have been stories, movies, and tv shows that have stolen my ideas almost verbatim. So at least I know there is a market for my thoughts if I will just take the time to record them and submit them for judgement.

But to have them rejected. To have "experts" determine once and for all that I am not really as talented as I think I am in the one thing that I love to do most? Talk about scary.

And there in lies my cowardice. I will jump out of an airplane. Dive off a high dive. Pet a shark. Move hundreds of miles from my home town. Change jobs after almost twenty years.

Submit a piece of paper with a little bit of my soul tangled in the type - let's not get carried away.

Astros, Needles, Blood Work, and Love - Sweet Love

My wife is deathly afraid of needles. Whenever her doctors would want to do blood work, her mother would go with her and distract her from the situation while the techs would do their work. Once we were married, this task fell to me.

I would explain to the tech that my wife and I would be talking about baseball and that we did not want to know about anything that the tech was doing. We explained that if my wife had to think too much about what the tech was doing, she would cold-cock said tech and run screaming from the doctor's office.

We explained further that we were a peace loving family and would not see a med tech reduced to broken fingers and shattered pelvis if we could help it, and that I would be talking Astros baseball to my wife as a distraction. We thought this was as good a warning of self-preservation as could be provided - right up there with, "Don't press this button, for the love of GOD, don't press this button if you love your fellow man"

But as psychological studies have confirmed, saying "Don't press this button, for the love of GOD, don't press this button if you love your fellow man," simply creates an almost irresistible urge to press that freaking button.

We had one tech that could not find a vein in my beloved's right arm and had to explain all of this as she progressed to the left arm. My wife looked up at me in a loving way that said, "I am going to cold cock this f<"&i^% b)&%#@ if she doesn't shut up"

I responded as only a loving husband can in these situations by saying," Ma'am, you are going to have to shut the hell up so I can finish my story about Andujar Cedeno, or my wife is going to kick your @$$"

Wonderfully, she replied, "My son loves the Astros. Is Nolan Ryan still on the team?"

Warm Hand of a Friend

My dad was like most of us in that he was scared to die. He knew Christ and had a list of questions for his Lord that he was anxious to have answers - don't know if most of us are like that.

He spent so long dying - a fate that I don't wish on any - that he had time to come through the fear and stand on the other side dripping with the waters of the oh-so-frigid river . He told me and others that when it came time for him to die, that he would not face the cold hand of death. It would instead be a warm hand of friendship welcoming him to his final reward.

I am not afraid of dying. I am afraid of the things associated with dying. I have written before that I imagine a possibility where a bullet through the brain (the organ that perceives time) could feel like it takes centuries to complete its journey. That scares the living crap out of me.

Heck, the idea of living crap scares the living crap out of me. I know my reward. I know I will be at eternal and infinite peace with Christ in a way that I cannot fathom in this world where I can only find true peace within the confines of my wife's arms.

I fear for the day that I die for what it does to her. I fear that the peace she finds in this world are encompassed by the extent that my fingers interlace behind her back.

Things My Wife Hits Me For

Hearing screaming children in public and saying, "they have not beaten that child enough."

Sitting in a fast food restaurant and looking at a really fat guy (really fat guy = guy fatter than me) and saying, "Bet you a thousand dollars he supersizes whatever the hell he orders."

Trying to get into another lane of traffic with my blinker on for several minutes with the guy next to me blocking me out and then finally counting to three and closing my eyes and changing lanes anyway.

Tickling her at any and every occasion. (She really hates that. From anyone but me.)

When someone tells a long, drawn out story about how someone else has wronged them and then asks a crowd of us, " Am I wrong?" and I answer, "Yeah, you were a complete ass."

When someone finishes their large soda from McDonald's in the middle of Walmart and leaves the empty cup on top of the girl's short sleeved shirts display and I ask nicely, "were you raised in a freaking barn? Why don't you take your damn trash with you?"

When the hostess asks if we have reservations and I answer, "No. We are sure we want to eat here."

When I publish the "BLOOP" story on Facebook via this blog.

Ben and Nate

These two boys are my unofficial nephews by marriage and are scary bright. Mischief and cuteness are located on the same hemisphere of the brain which explains why children are so frustratingly adorable and adorably frustrating.

Ben and Nate are well behaved in recognition of the efforts that their parents put into fashioning strong young men. But even in these well mentored youngsters, I laughed at the follies that I remembered subjecting my parents. One slip, one violation of consistency and children will go all in on gamble after gamble that you will surrender again.

And it does not help that Uncle Ray laughs at most transgressions and smiles at most others.

Too cute and too loving. Anyone of honor or my half-honor, feels the need to be better to live up to the unflinching trust found in those eyes of unbending innocence.

W and History

Do yourself a favor and read the memoir of President George W. Bush. Through the changes in Egypt and Libya and brewing in Syria, no one has brought up the name of a President that some, maybe most, find embarrassing. But he committed this country to a war in Iraq to expunge weapons of mass destruction that were never found. He found a plan B in founding a democracy in an Arab state in a region that had none. The only democratic state in that part of the world is found in Israel and there is a whole inheritance feud going on between the main characters that would make the Hatfields and the McCoys shake their heads in bewilderment.

But it seems that there is a chance for democracy to find purchase in Iraq, Egypt, Libya, and perhaps Syria. If that does turn out to be the case, the befuddled and dumb-founded W will likely find himself like Ronald Reagan and the fall of Soviet Russia - a perfectly shaped peg that too few historians will ever attempt to fit into an all too obvious historical hole.

WDMG and WOKA

When I was growing up these were the two radio stations that came in most often on the radio. One was mainly country and the other was only slightly country with a hint of rock and roll. I grew to hate the limitations of these stations as I grew older.

When I moved far afield from home, I found radio stations that played other music that spoke to me where it found me and even more music that I moved to find.

But, as I sit here and type this, the wife and I are playing music over the internet. Each taking turns finding songs from our youth or that were important to family or even modern songs that just spoke to us.

I found myself playing Tom T. Hall and Jannie Fricke and David Allen Coe and Lynard Skynard and Alabama.

The hidden soundtracks of our lives. I did not have cable and even so, I predate the founding of MTV. Static filled music introduced by announcers who sounded just as rustically southern as I did was an experience that could not help but shape a life.

"He-ah is the Baatulls hit song, 'I Want to Hold Yo-ah Hand,'" just has to graft something on to you or carve something off.

Happy Accidents

I was the typical irrational, rebellious teenager. It did not require me to be the victim of an injustice for me to get fired up about it. I got more fired up than the one who was the actual victim. I understood much more than most people my age (it seemed to me) that we had so little power and that so much of what happened to us in school was capricious.

As I got older I realized that many of the fights that I carried out were not really worth it. I also found out that most of the teachers that I thought of as petty and narrow minded were even more petty and so small minded that "narrow" was a relative term that was actually too broad as I pictured it.

But there were those occasions of happy coincidence that just played out better than I ever could have planned. But I really wish I had planned it.

The best example is a teacher that got on my nerves almost as much as I got on hers. One day I was talking about something in class - because, let's face it, I am most often talking rather than doing anything else. The teacher is question called to me, "Ray"

"Yes ma'am, " I answered with no agenda or even a clue.

"Shut. Up"

"Yes ma'am," I answered again with a bit of confusion in my voice that was thankfully not discerned.

"Ray!"

"Ma'am?"

"Hush!"

"Yes ma'am"

"Ray!"

"What?" as I started to realize what was happening.

"Be quiet!"

"Okey dokey." Pretty sure of the game now.

"Ray!"

"Yes, um?"

"SHUT UP!!"

"You Betcha!" Knowing that I have my opponent in mate and as long as she struggles it just makes it more painful for her.

"Ray!!!"

"Yeah?"

"Stop talking!"

"Whatever you say, boss lady."

"Ray!!"

"Whatcha need?"

"Hush!!!"

"Sure nuff."

"Ray"

"Huh?"

"Don't say another word!"

"K"

"Ray!!"

"That's me."

"BE QUIET!!"

"Will DO!"

This may have gone on longer but I think I have made my point. Although back then I may have carried this out much, much, much, much, much, much, much, much, much longer. You know have teenagers are.

You Oughta Know about Rolling in the Deep

Take a minute and listen to "You Oughta Know" by Alanis Morissette and "Rolling in the Deep" by Adele with a follow up of "Someone Like You" by Adele. Broken-hearted women apparently make big COIN out of misery.

These are a couple of cases where when you compare the man to the money he engendered, he just wasn't worth it.

Poker

I am back to playing poker. Not for cash mind you. But I have found a circuit that will allow me to play cards at least twice a week with my rotating work schedule. Such a thrill to settle down at the table and get a hand that fosters a bet.

Even better to see the flop and find encouragement that has to be quickly masked so that others at the table will see you as weak when you are really strong. Nietzsche and Sun Tzu would be so proud.

Waiting for others to raise the bet and then calling it with subtlety allowing others to be the aggressors. Staying in the game but in the background as lesser players duel and fall.

Finally to slowly slide all your chips to the center and see the fear in the eyes of all those who had forgotten you still held a hand.

Confidently laying down your winning FLUSH with your KING standing high above the rest.

And then that one jerk in the corner has the freaking ACE and puts you out. Crap. Poker.

Pre-Occupied - Immaturity Aspires to Meaning

I have never understood the free-love / anti-war movement of the 60's, but I do appreciate that I interact with people today and judge them by their performance rather than their ethnicity. I like the fact that women are not a commodity, but rather fully realized people. I like the fact that I don't care who you sleep with - unless it is me and then I would appreciate rave reviews, please.

The whole thing about not bathing and sleeping with anyone at any time and no one having any property that was considered private? That's the part that I cannot wrap my head around. The Communists took forty years to show us what Orwell and his Animals tried to tell us at the very beginning: any system that proposes to take from any and give to all will only take from all and give to the ones doing the taking.

Work hard and work smart and be smart with the earnings from your labors, and you can be successful in this country (see Steve Jobs, Sam Walton, et al.). Heck, you can work sloppy and work stupid and be frivolous and still be a success in this country ( see Kardashians, et al.) The 2nd avenue is really rare. Most of the time, hard work and intelligence are required.

The whole Occupy crowd of unemployed people (they have to be unemployed to have this kind of free time - or they soon will be if they don't hurry back from vacation, I guess) strike me as a bunch of lazy whiners. Go find a job. If you can't find one that pays enough to live on, get two. How about this, if the job you have does not pay the bills, cut out some of your bills.

I never finished college and my wife (a college graduate) and I have done alright without worrying that 1% of this country controls all the wealth. It is what it is. And it must be nice up there living the high life. I don't know that all of the 1% have actually earned their place in life. I am sure that some have inherited a seat at the metaphorical Adult's Table of Life. But life is not a promise of ANYTHING.

The only thing in life that you are entitled to is those things that you can work for and earn. Don't like the wage you are being paid? Fine. Go out and find a job paying more. Can't find anyone willing to pay you more? Then YOU AREN'T WORTH ANY MORE!! If you are still feeling cheated by the wage you make, go out and start your own business.

But understand that if you start your own business there are no guarantees. Indeed, as a small business owner, you may very well lose your home and your family and your standing in the community. It happens when a business fails.

You put your blood and sweat into a business and try to pay a fair wage and put out a quality product but you are just not smart enough, or savvy enough, or determined enough and you lose absolutely everything. Horrifying thought, isn't it?

But some of those small business owners turn out to be Sam Walton and their companies turn out to be Walmart. FORTUNE for generations of your family and for investors (those people who were willing to risk their own money in exchange for a chance to see if you could return a profit).

All of that risk - jumping out into the unknown without a safety net or a soft landing spot.

Why do the indolent of the Occupy movement think they deserve anything from anyone who has risked everything financially? For spending the night in parks around the country? And with our tax payer funded police watching over them? Grow up. Get a job. And while you're at it, get a hair cut.

The 60's movement of youth and radicals paved the dirt road laid out by abolitionists a century before. They took feminine property and rendered fully realized women. They built upon the passive earthly revolt of Christ against the Romans, echoed by Ghandi against the British, and televised in the Deep South. They faced Dragons.

The Occupied (synonym for sitting on the toilet, come to think of it) come across as oh-so-spoiled children squatting in the aisle of the supermarket, surrounded by plenty and completely safe, wailing away because they are not in the candy aisle. Grow up. Work. Achieve. Help.

Adults who have worked hard and achieved are in the best position to help their fellow man. The poor do not form corporations who provide jobs to thousands. That comes from the hard work of men and women who have risked their future to gain wealth and in the process provide a livelihood for their fellow men. GROW UP!

Stray Thoughts 5 - This Time Posted with my Phone

Phone as Computer

Using my phone for this entry. I am a faster, better typist with a key board but this is great. I am listening to sports radio, after reading the paper online, after checking in on Facebook, and making a blog entry. All from my phone. Cool.

Big Ray Ray

Visiting friends while on vacation. Their 3 year old has named me Big Ray Ray out of the blue. I am thinking of making that my email address and handle on FB.

We ran back to his house after unpacking in our apartment (thanks for the free digs) so we had to have some water. He mimiced me drinking my water right down to the "Ahhh"

Too cute since it was looking like he was going to hide from us while we were here.

World Series

Ron Washington is fun to watch. He loves his players and what he is doing. His players seem to love playing for him.

And the Rangers are a loose bunch. They were down 2 runs and guys were laughing on the field about different things that were going on. There does not appear to be any panic in this bunch.

The kid who pitched the shut out in game 4 was doing a Harry Carey impersonation during game five. And it was good and it was funny and it was while they were trailing in the game. No worries on this team and I think that comes from the top.

Great BBQ

Oklahoma Joe's in Kansas City has amazing bbq. They allow folks to call in carry out orders and have a separate checkout for those folks to avoid the line. And it is a long, long line.

But the line moves fast and they look out for the folks in line. The tables are reserved for the folks waiting in line. If u call ahead u can eat in ur car. Love that as much as I love the food.

And the food: all meat chili, baked beans with hunks of brisket in it, burnt ends that are chunks of tender brisket. Great stuff.

The Flint Hills

The Flint Hills in Kansas are breathtakingly beautiful when u first see them. They are almost soul crushing after 300,000 miles of them.

I will get pictures and maybe video on the way home.

Hope This Turns Out

Using the phone for the first time on this blog. Hopes it turns out well.

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Stray Thoughts - More Than 3, Less Than 100

Not Posted in a While

Have not posted anything in a while. I have NOT done so because I have not had thoughts that I wanted to express or because I could not put the ideas into words. I just could not follow the title of this blog and at least say it nicely. I will find a way to get these thoughts off my chest at some point, but apparently I need to mature a few more years to do it in a way, that at least I feel, are a tasteful manner. Yeah, I know. Low bar.

Why Does the One Bother Me and the Other Not?

There is a commercial out for a sandwich shop that delivers that really bothers me. I know - with all the things wrong with the world, I cover only the biggies.

It features a guy on a plane stuck between two huge fellas when the pilot announces a twenty minute delay before the plane will take off. The guy calls the sandwich company and before he can finish the call (or really say his order for that matter) there is a knock at the sealed plane door and it is the sandwich delivery person that the helpful flight attendant allows on the plane.

This bothers me and WHAT bothers me about the commercial bothers me even more. I am not bothered by the fact that the delivery person shows up impossibly fast. I am not bothered by the fact that the man never actually ordered any food before the food shows up. I am bothered by the fact that the flight attendant opens the freaking door.

I have more faith in bureaucratic dogmatism that would prevent someone from opening an airplane door, than I have in the laws of physics. I am willing to accept a teleporting, telepathic delivery person as a rational possibility more so than I am willing to accept that someone would exercise common sense after being granted a sliver of power over others.

The rules say once the door has been sealed, it stays sealed. And there have been instances where people have spent 6 hours or more sitting on a runway waiting for a plane to take off or go back to the gate. I cannot believe the mundane can be altered for the better and when I see it portrayed as such, it bothers me.

On a side note - can you imagine the money you could make if you were a teleporting, telepathic delivery person? Wow.

Another Commercial Idiocy

Have you seen the commercial where the frozen pizza tries to convince us it is just as good as delivery? I personally love the one where the kid takes a frozen pizza and pretends to be the pizza delivery guy at a party at a mansion. The security guy is skeptical that the kid is actually the pizza delivery guy but is reassured once he looks at the so-delicious-it-could-not possibly-be a frozen pizza. He then invites the guy in to join the party because he is the REAL pizza delivery guy. Happy Ending!

Here's my problem. When have you EVER invited the pizza delivery guy to come in and have dinner with you? I try not to let the guys get too far into the house and see the big screen TV in case the delivery job is his way of casing future robbery targets ( I have not watched 20 years of Law & Order without learning a few things)

Walk/Don't Walk Signals

Indianapolis is like most other cities in that they have the walk/don't walk signal lights. They are helpful and have probably saved a few lives. And they have traditionally catered to people who could see.

Independently minded blind people have relied on audible clues from traffic noise and other pedestrians to figure out when it is safe to walk. But now there is a new feature. There is a voice that states it is "Safe to Walk". It is a great help. Very thoughtful. An example of what some people call political correctness but I think is really thoughtfulness.

But here is my problem. I have stood at the street corner where these signals make their helpful suggestions and I can't tell which DIRECTION it is safe to walk. It does not say north, south, east, or west. It does not say right or left. So, I think blind people are back to having to listen all over again. But I don't know.

Any blind people reading this, please post a reply. What? Whaaaat? McDonald's offers braille menus at the DRIVE THROUGH. I am operating on the same logic.

World Series This Year

Looks like the Rangers and the Cardinals are evenly matched. So many of their stats in this post season are almost identical. Probably gonna be horrible ratings because both teams are from the middle of the country but should be great baseball.

I have a friend who has a line on tickets to game 6 or 7 and if the series goes that long and his source comes through, Priscilla and I will be going to a World Series game in St. Louis and rooting firmly for the Rangers.

Gotta find a Texas hat that fits my giant melon.

Texas is Vain or Has an Inferiority Complex

(Or Yes, EB, Your State is Mental)

I lived in Texas for five years and if the opportunity presented itself, I would go back in the heartbeat after my wife said it was okay. But even while I was living there and loving it, I noticed things that made me want to grow a Freudian beard and go, "Hmmmm."

They (the Texans) put the Texas Star on beer, burgers, cars, trucks, burritos, pets, x-ray machines, roller coasters, baby food, diapers, handcuffs, toilet paper, breathalyzers, pillow cases, and exotic dancers. That is a sign of a state that feels like it has something to prove.

I wonder if Texas was like this before Alaska joined the Union. Must gall the "everything is bigger in Texas" crowd to know that Alaska is the biggest state in the Union.

I love Texas. But as a friend, I have to say, ease up. You have nothing to prove. Sure the Cowboys suck right now. Yeah, the Longhorns are having a 2nd year of mediocrity. The Houston Astros might be a minor league affiliate of the Milwaukee Brewers next year. The Houston Texans just lost their best defensive player for the year and their best offensive player for another two weeks. But the Mavericks won an NBA championship... for a league that might not play again this year.

So how bout these Rangers? Ratings might be higher than I thought. Whole (mental) State of Texas might be tuned in.

Cardinals Fan

I have a friend of mine who is a Cardinals fan. He and I have always had a similar sense of humor and have been able to "riff" well together and get others to laugh. I felt close to this friend within minutes of getting to know him.

I am not a person to whom it is easy to be friends. One of the most exclusive clubs out there is the group whom I call "friends" who feel as deeply towards me as I do them. I am not easy to get along with and to be brutally honest, most of you bore me. I just don't like people. My wife's dog has been more important to me than MOST of the people that I have met in this world.

But the Cardinals fan and I hit it off as baseball fans stuck in Houston and fans of other teams. One of my favorite memories is a day after work going to the Astros game and sitting in the nose bleed section. There were about 10 teenagers up there with us and it was a long, long walk to the beer stand.

I saw a beer vendor many miles below where we were sitting. We shouted for him but the guy could not hear us or did not want to trek all the way up there for just two guys. Without missing a beat, I told the kids in front of us "on the count of three, we are gonna shout 'Hey beer man'. Okay? On the count of 3, 'Hey Beer Man!' Got it? Good. 1....2.....3"

As an aside, you can get almost anyone to shout almost anything if you do it on the count of 3 and you don't give them time to think about it. We shouted, 12 strong, for the beer guy and he came all the way up there with his Sherpa and then saw that only two of us were legal to buy beer. We offered to buy 6 each from him but he was only allowed to sell us two each. He sold, we bought, and he left with and angry look for all of us. Good times.

We recently went to watch my Braves lose to the Cardinals in St. Louis as the guest of Cardinals fan (because all the Braves did in September was lose) and we had a great time. We fell into old rhythms and old jokes and new jokes that just worked. Priscilla shocked me on the ride home when she said that if people did not know better they would think "you were brothers".

I was flattered and pleased all at the same time. I don't like most people, but I am deathly loyal to the people that I finally call "friend".

She is a Beautiful Girl

I had a best friend from the time I was in first grade until I graduated from high school. After high school we grew apart. We went drinking one afternoon and talked about our fathers who had passed away.

I told him after two or three or fourteen Natural Lights that I was not half the man my father was. He looked at me as if I was the stupidest creation ever of the Almighty and said, "None of us are."

This was not a man who was given to deep pronouncements or deep thoughts. But this was a basic truth that was so obvious to him that it staggered him that I had to say it out loud.

He is not on Facebook or any of the rest of it that I can tell. But his daughter (or one of them) is. And she looks just like him. Spitting image. That amazes me. She is a cute girl just the way he was the kind of guy that every high schooler wishes he could be.

I found her when FB suggested her mom as a friend. I know her mom and my friend were married at one time but I did not know they had kids. But that little girl is the spitting image of her daddy.

God. I feel old.

More to Come

There is not another person in my life other than my parents, brothers, and wife that have had a greater impact on my life than one particular person. He deserves more than a segment in stray thoughts and will get his very own post soon. And those of you who have known me the longest, know exactly to whom I am referring.

He was able to call me on crap that no one else was able to call me on. I respected him that much. Example: I was pissed that my mom had a hissy-fit about me mowing the grass before I started my weekend rambling. I had mowed the yard and one of the first places I stopped while rambling around south Georgia was at his house.

I voiced my disgust with my chore that my mom had imposed on me and he asked, "So how many acres did you have to mow?'

I told him that it was just less than an acre. "Not even a full acre, huh? What type of push mower did you have to take out there?"

I had to admit that it was a riding mower. "So you got to sit down the whole time on less than an acre of grass? Really? So, was it 100 or 105 degrees?"

Even I knew I was beat when I said, "It was 85 degrees. Is that a Turkey Leaf Oak Tree or a Cherrybark Oak?"

Not many people get to challenge me and he could do it with impunity because I knew above all else he was a GOOD man.

His own post on this site is coming soon. Feel free to leave your guesses about who he is in comments. Several of you have been impacted by his life just as much or more than I have.

Chess

I hate the game of Chess. I learned to play when I was twelve from my dad along with my brother Mark ( 18 months younger than me) and my brother Jason (5 years younger than me). Dad beat us routinely early on. Then Mark beat him. Mark is the mechanic of us boys. And the electrician. Very analytically minded, my brother Mark. And then, he beat Dad again. And again. And again.

So Dad and I played a lot of chess for a while. And then I beat Dad. Went a while and then I beat him again. And then again. And, a while later, I beat him again.

So Jason and Daddy played a lot of chess. And then Jason beat him. And Jason just kept beating him.

(Major aside - A very good movie that I absolutely HATE is A League of Their Own in which women take over baseball while the men are fighting WWII and the main character THROWS the big game to her baby sister because she feels sorry for her. Horrible, horrible movie. The idea that an accomplishment is valuable when it is not really achieved - horrible.)

I hate the fact that my dad lost to any of us. I wish he could have won every game. I really wish he could have won against all of us each and every time. But I am proud that each of us gave the old man our best effort. I am proud that each defeat hurt him - if you have any pride at all, a loss should hurt - and I am proud that none of the three of us held back.

But I never play chess any more. I don't think I have played since my dad died. In Chess, you have to think so many moves ahead of right now. I focus pretty well on right now. I "live in the moment" as well as anyone. But I hate planning. That is another telling thing about me.

Famous People Die in 3's

My mother told me years ago that famous people die in threes and I blindly accepted it as fact as only a child could. My wife made me realize that maybe the rest of you did not know of this urban myth.

As an example, and with respect to all family members of the mentioned (as if they read this blog - did I mention I was an arrogant pig?) Steve Jobs (Founder of Apple), Al Davis (Owner of the Raiders and NFL great), and Casey Wheldon (Two time winner of the Indy 500) all died within 5 weeks of each other.

I don't know if this always holds true. But when a celebrity death catches my attention, I look for the other two folks. I wonder if anyone on the internet has gone out and made a record of the collections of 3 deaths of famous folks.

You are going to go and Google that aren't you? Cool. Go ahead. Post anything you find. I am almost ready to bet that there is a website that features this thing. But I want you guys to go look and tell me.

Luthor

I am not talking about the enemy of Superman. I am talking about Detective Inspector Luthor of the BBC series Luthor that features a detective that makes the hard choices as I like to think I would make them. Luthor, as played by Idris Elba, does not compromise. It is a fantastic study in how the life free of compromise is absolutely miserable.

Season one is available on Comcast and it is only 6 episodes long. A great story that I don't think would ever be told on American television ( it is on here in the states on BBC America). Season two is now on and I have seen episode one (and even though a cousin of mine has seen the whole thing and was not impressed) I am looking forward to future episodes.

My problem is with the OnDemand function of my cable service. I have season 2 episode 1 and I have season 2 episode 3. What the hell happened to season 2 episode 2? I have waited 3 weeks now for the cable company to fix this mess. I may have to take matters into my own hands. (For those of you have seen the series, you might be telling me "settle down, Alice."

Stupid

If you keep falling for the idea that FB is going to start charging for their services and actually post that crap to the rest of your friends, YOU ARE MIND NUMBINGLY STUPID!!!! And yes, that is the nicest way I could say that.

Grandpa and Snakes

My dad always told me the story of my grandpa fishing and seeing baby moccasins sunning themselves on the branches of a log that had fallen into the water. Grandpa would reach into the branches and take the small snakes between his thumb and forefinger and then twist off their heads. He would sit there and kill snake after snake.

Daddy said that he spotted the Momma snake and pointed at it swimming up and asked Grandpa, "Ya gonna get that one, Daddy?"

Grandpa looked at the four foot long snake that was the circumference of his arm and said, " No, baby, I think we are going to let that one alone."

I always thought that was a cute story but it was always a bit imaginary to me. Right up until I was 16 years old and had Wesley Gilliard's Grandpa tell me the same story because he was on the SAME fishing trip.

Why does a family story seem so much more REAL when someone from outside your family confirms the story? Is this just me?

Surprise Anniversary Trip

My wife and I have gone SOME WHERE for our anniversary every year except last year when our funds were consumed with the move to Indianapolis. This year is my year to plan the trip and as a fun variation, Priscilla has no idea where we are going. But I can't resist the time honored tradition of taunting her. Here are some vacation ideas that we might or might not be doing. Some of them might be accurate. One of them might be accurate. None of them might be accurate. All of them bring me joy to write.

Tandem Sky Diving in Ohio

Rock Climbing in South Dakota

Rafting at Niagara Falls

World Series at Dallas

World Series in St. Louis

Gambling in Vegas

Gambling in St. Louis

Gambling in New Orleans

Cooking Class in New Orleans

Best BBQ in the USA

Family Reunion

Horse Races

Football Game

Paris at Dawn

Paris at Sunset

Cruise to Alaska

Cruise to Panama

Cruise to Atascocita

A Tour of Napa Valley, CA

Okay. That should raise her expectations enough that whatever we are able to afford to do will pale in comparison. But now I get bonus points for all this expensive crap that I would have done if we had had the money.

Harsh Things

Again, there are things on my heart that I will eventually have to say but only when I find a kind way to say them. Or until I no longer care who I offend. But, no matter what I have led you to believe, I really do want to share ideas in a way that I at least say it nicely.