It's Not Over

So where are we now?

It's no secret that I did not vote for Obama. As happy as I am to see the first black president, I would have preferred a conservative. But Ok. I've voted. I've fulfilled my civil responsibility. I didn't win so now I go back to my average everyday life. Better luck next time.

Don't think so!!!!! Three things I plan on doing...

1. Pray! - If any one needs prayer, it's this man. The first black president of America? Come on! I don't care how much you think this country has advanced. This man will need prayer. Those of you who may smirk or smile or anything close to that when mentioning the fact that he may "not make it for four years", should be ashamed of yourselves. Do you really want to see the results of such a horrible situation? Rodney King? OJ? We don't want Obama assassinated.

2. Get involved! - Many of the things promised during the election were good. But they were probably just to salve the conservatives who jumped the fence. Fine. Now let's hold his feet to the fire on them. The sleeping giant is not planning on going back to sleep. We're here and you're going to have to deal with it!

3. Stand! - I am not ashamed of being a conservative. I know I am a registered independent, but I am a conservative. If statistics can be believed, so are the majority of Americans. So let's be conservatives and let's remind our government that it's what we are. Despite the press and millions of dollars pumped into the state of California, Prop 8 passed. Give up trying to play to the sympathies of the Left. It simply causes us to be seen as hypocrites. Gracefully and consistently stand by your beliefs in conversations with friends or at work. Don't be a jerk. But refuse to slink off in a corner either. This election was not a referendum on conservatism. It may, however, have been a referendum on moderates. You want to know how, ask me. There's not quite enough space to address that in this particular blog entry.

We have a new president. We will watch, we will pray. We will not be silenced by him and we will not demonize him. We will support the decisions that are right and protest the ones that are not. We have earned the right to do so because...

We voted!

Couldn't Have Said it Better Myself

Hey you open-minded people, open your minds to this.



And a reminder of how the illustrious Margaret Sanger suggested to get black people to go along with the extermination of their own race....

"We should hire three or four colored ministers, preferably with social-service backgrounds, and with engaging personalities. The most successful educational approach to the Negro is through a religious appeal. We don't want the word to go out that we want to exterminate the Negro population. and the minister is the man who can straighten out that idea if it ever occurs to any of their more rebellious members."
Margaret Sanger's December 19, 1939 letter to Dr. Clarence Gamble, 255 Adams Street, Milton, Massachusetts. Original source: Sophia Smith Collection, Smith College, North Hampton, Massachusetts. Also described in Linda Gordon's Woman's Body, Woman's Right: A Social History of Birth Control in America. New York: Grossman Publishers, 1976.

Humor: A Review of LOST (by someone who's never watched an episode...)

Put Down The Duckie!

I think this song is really really deep! (See, I didn't say anything about how it "quacks me up".) Click on the title below to go to the youtube video of this excellent song.

PUT DOWN THE DUCKIE
Ernie: Excuse me, Mr. Hoots
I hate to bug a busy bird
But I want to learn the sax
And I need a helpful word
I always get a silly squeak
When I play the blues

Hoots: Ernie, keep your cool
I'll teach ya how to blow the sax
I think I dig your problem
It's rubber, and it quacks
You'll never find the skill you seek
Till you pay your dues

You gotta put down the duckie
Put down the duckie
Put down the duckie
Yeah, you gotta leave the duck alone
You gotta put down the duckie
Put down the duckie
Put down the duckie
If you wanna play the saxophone!

You didn't hear a word I said
You gotta get it through your head
Don't be a stubborn cluck
Ernie, lay aside the duck!
I've learned a thing or two
From years of playing in a band
It's hard to play a saxophone
With something in your hand
To be a fine musician
You're gonna have to face the facts

Though you're blessed with flying fingers
When you wanna wail, you're stuck
What good are flying fingers
If they're wrapped around a duck?
Change the toy's position
If you wanna ace the sax!

You gotta put down the duckie
Put down the duckie
Put down the duckie
Yeah, you gotta leave the duck alone
You gotta put down the duckie
Put down the duckie
Put down the duckie
If you wanna play the saxophone!

Don't have to put it on a train
Don't have to wash it down the drain
Don't have to lock it in a drawer
Don't have to shove it out the door
Don't have to stuff it in your pocket
Or send it flyin' in a rocket!
Don't have to get it out of town!
Ernie, put the quacker down!

You gotta put down the duckie
Put down the duckie
Put down the duckie
Yeah, you gotta leave the duck alone
You gotta put down the duckie
Put down the duckie
Put down the duckie
If you wanna play the saxophone!

You gotta put down the duckie
Put down the duckie
Put down the duckie
Yeah, you gotta leave the duck alone
You gotta put down the duckie
Put down the duckie
Put down the duckie
If you wanna play the saxophone!

Oh yeah!!!!!!!!

Pieces from the Past?... This post is long and may get me in trouble!

Just when you start to think you're above it all...

I am amazed at the strong personal reaction I had to this picture that someone had left on my desktop. There were so many ways to take this image, but something inside me was bothered by the white pawn standing over the black king.

It reminded me of a recent foray into Applebees in Waxahachie, TX. As I walked through the door, the quick glances in my direction made me immediately and painfully aware of the lack of black people (excuse me, African Americans... sheesh!) in the restaurant. My wife, who is white, probably never noticed until I mentioned it, but I found myself tensing up ever so slightly. I was shocked by my own nervousness as I sat there eating my food and feeling that someone was staring at me (and I am pretty sure some of them were... but probably more as a point of interest not a target of violence or anything). It's so amazing! At one point, I thought to myself, "If these people decided that they wanted to hurt me, I would have no way out." I was completely caught off guard by what suddenly ran through my head. Maybe it was too many movies like "The Great Debaters" (a classic to see, but hard to watch). I remembered being in a small Texas town on a church staff retreat a few years ago. One of the ministers who used to live in that town, encouraged me (warned me) to not go out walking alone. This guy is an awesome person who I would trust with my life. So when he said not to go wandering alone, I did not! He understood and knew that I would as well.

However, the question I asked myself when I saw this chess piece image was simple. Did the frequency of these events (only black person in the room) increase or has my sensitivity to it increased because of the whole Obama thing. No matter what people say, race is a part of this race. How many times in the past presidential elections have you ever heard anyone say, "I'm not going to vote for him just because he's white, hispanic, mormon, jewish, catholic, etc." I'm sure it's happened but it's probably never been such a national topic of conversation.

Even at my church, where there are other black and mixed couples, I recently had that feeling that I have rarely had before. Maybe it's because I am usually up on stage, leading the music with so much on my mind that I don't have time to think about it. I am there before others get there and after most people leave. But today, playing bass for the worship leader who is currently serving there, I looked out and had that momentary, strange feeling of aloneness... I could almost hear that old Sesame Street song... (One of these things is not like the other.) I looked around at the few other black people in the room and wondered if they had ever felt this way. I know some have. But I was afraid that asking the question would bring an awareness not previously felt. So I backed away.

Now to clear some things up. Because, and I know this happens, many of my non-black friends who read this will wonder exactly what I mean. Do I not feel loved? Do I not feel important? Do I feel discriminated against? Do I want to vote for Obama deep down inside just to make me feel more African American? A resounding no to all. Just a realization I still have those moments, a flash reaction like the one with the image. A sudden awareness that sneaks up on you, jumps out and screams "boo". That crazy moment when you realize the clerk at the store is still following and watching you in your polo shirt and slacks rather than the white kid on the other side of the store who's dressed like a gangsta and looks like he may be about to rob the place. That feeling that someone might, not has, not will, but might look at you and use a derogatory term. Or that if you get into a debate about being for Obama, you will be written off, not as intelligently disagreeing, but as just another part of the racial herd mentality. These things may never happen, but you know they have. You've seen it, felt it, been it... and you're afraid it's going to happen again. I'm sure it's not just a black thing either. I'm sure everyone has their moments like this. But then again, in some ways the black experience is a unique one.

By the way... I sent the chess photo to some friends and mentioned it bothering me. One person replied that it was a standard chess photo, however, if it was intended to be, then it could definitely be seen as offensive. I can definitely see that. But then I wondered, is this really a standard photo? I wondered if there were images that showed black pieces as the winner over the white ones? I was curious so I googled "chess" and "checkmate" and looked at the various images of pieces in defeat (I included them below and throughout the blog). I found that, in professional photography, if the pieces were black and white, the winner was almost always the white piece. Remember, I did not pick and choose these photos. I just grabbed what I saw. And I am NOT saying that these photos and photographers are racists. I am just making an observation (one that many black kids in America may be making unconsciously and wondering what's going on). As for the one photo I found where the black piece is the winner, that image was created by someone in another country... Hmmmm...

Marking Time

Marking time... to do something which is not very interesting while you are waiting to start doing something more important.

If you can't tell, I like definitions, quotes and idioms. This one bothers me. Mainly because I see myself do it a lot. Unfortunately, when you have a warped view of what's important, you will unknowingly "mark time" with things and people that should be important to you. Sometimes I find myself doing that before I leave for work in the evenings. Not really doing much, watching tv, sitting outside, etc., waiting for the timer on my alarm to say get up and go to work. How much time did I just waste that I could have been talking to my wife, checking on the kids or at least playing with that new puppy that drives me insane begging for attention all the time? Instead, I sometimes just mark time until it's time to start "doing something important."

You've seen it. Kids mark time at school till it's time to go home and "do something really important" like play video games or email their friends. It affects all of us. Preparing dinner, laundry or whatever until we can have time to do something "really important." These everyday things are not the important things. It's the special events that keep us happy and until then we're just marking time doing the basic stuff.

But I wonder how many counseling sessions are made up of people saying, "my parents never took me to Disneyland or Six Flags over Texas"? Isn't the line usually, my dad never sad he loved me, my mom never showed me affection, etc. Special events are important and they make moments... but it's the everyday things that make a life worth living.

Then I wonder how much of that has rolled into my Christian walk. Is Heaven so important that we're just living life here, marking time until the Rapture or death or something important comes along? I think of this song by Michael Card...

"Could You tell me why
Was it for this You came and died
A once a week observance

When we coldly mouth Your words

Are we really saving our energy for heaven or has church become a place where we mark time and check off our spiritual "things to do list?" Do we live for the conferences or the next "mighty move of God" while forgetting to love our neighbor, visit the sick, share our daily bread, love our family, etc.? Maybe we're just marking time, living for the bell.

Dear God, forgive me for marking time with this life you have given me. Family and friends, please forgive me for marking time with you. I won't say, "if I have ever" because I know I have. And I repent of that sin.

So look around and see. Have you been marking time like me?

Angelic Adventures!

Outside of the Random Ramblings, few people know it, but I write two other blogs. Both are fictional non-fiction about angelic adventures.

"The Misadventures of Rambling John", which I've been writing for a few years, is a collection of stories in the vein of Screwtape Letters (C.S. Lewis) about a worldly-wise demon and his constant confrontations with angelic hosts, believers and the world around him.This is the link for Rambling John http://ramblingjohn.blogspot.com/

"The Adventures of Goodness and Mercy"is about two angelic beings dedicated to search and rescue. "Surely Goodness and Mercy will follow you all the days of your life." Below is a quick preview of The New Adventures Goodness and Mercy... it can also be found at http://angelicadventures.blogspot.com/

THE ADVENTURES OF GOODNESS AND MERCY
EPISODE 1: ANDY

Running!

Panting... Panting... Panting...

"Why are we running?" Mercy wheezed while trying to catch his breath.

"It's too dangerous to fly. It would let them know that we're... Duck!" They barely missed the dead branch hanging low over the wet leaved floor.

"Did you say duck? Where? I don't see one." The shorter one answered. Goodness was sure this was another one of his rather lame attempts at humor. Mercy did that a lot: throw in an off-beat joke during moments of intense pressure. After so many years of hanging around him, most of their friends and co-workers still didn't get it. But Mercy never let it bother him. He called them "tension busters". Goodness, however, found them kind of irritating. He had to confess though, that sometimes they actually helped lighten the mood. Unfortunately, this wasn't one of those times.

Mercy continued to protest. "And why do we have to do this in these terran forms? I'm exhausted!"

"We have to leave a trail that lead them where we want them to go! I'm not sure they would follow us if we showed up like we normally do."

"Not even after our 'fear not' greeting?" Mercy slowed to a trot. "You know, I've been thinking of changing my angelic greeting to... "Wait! Stop! Don't run away!"

"That's better than what you said last time!"

"I was just having fun!"

"You said, 'Take me to your leader'. I couldn't believe you! Almost blew the whole mission!"

Mercy shrugged. "Well, it got their attention, didn't it?"

"Sure! But first we had to show up as human federal agents and convince the police that those humans weren't crazy. Where'd you get that whole space alien idea?"

"Remember that rescue we did at Area 51?"

Goodness loved his friend, but sometimes... Well, they had jogged enough. Time to resume speed. They had to move quickly. Andrew's life depended on their mission.

But as Goodness and Mercy quickened their pace, they heard a cacophony of screeches, fluttering wings and hurried footsteps fall in behind them. "They found us!"

Mercy's sword sang as it slipped from it's scabbard. Goodness stared at him. "We don't have time for a battle, Mercy. Keep moving!"

"I think the point of whether we have time to fight or not is kind of irrelevant right now."

Goodness hated it but he knew Mercy was right. Reluctantly, he drew his sword as, under his breath, he cursed the coming battle. "Hang on Andy!" he said softly. "We're coming."

The Art of Fanning

Main Entry: fan
Function: verb
Date: before 12th century

1 a: to drive away the chaff of (grain) by means of a current of air b: to eliminate (as chaff) by winnowing
2: to move or impel (air) with a fan
3: to blow or breathe upon
4 a: to direct a current of air upon with a fan b: to stir up to activity as if by fanning : stimulate
5 archaic : wave
6 slang : spank

Hehehhe. I had to laugh when I saw the slang definition (#6). To spank? Really? I cannot imagine my mom going, "go get me a stick so I can fan your behind". How would I have responded to that? Is there any doubt that she would have turned me back to dust if I were my normal smart alec self? She always reminded me that she brought me into this world and could take me out. She would have definitely blown me away. This is not my main point though.

It's been cool having a song on the Indie charts and connecting with a lot of my friends through Facebook and Myspace. There's even a place where you can go and sign up as fans. Fans!!! But I've never really liked the term. Fan what? My ego? I always see Pharaoh sitting on his throne surrounded by women who have large feathered instruments, fanning him as he ponders his own importance. No thank you. I know tons of people who sing and play better than I do. And a quick trip to Nashville is a real fast way to see that there are many many talented people flipping Big Macs waiting for their big break.

But lately, I've warmed up to the word "fan" I've been looking at the definitions from my friend Daniel Webster! The first definition for the verb of the word... "1a: to drive away the chaff of (grain) by means of a current of air." As singers and musicians, this is what we need. Not a group of "pedestal people" who bow at the throne of our talents. But a group of friends and family and peers who act as a continuous current of fresh air.

This air sweeps away the illusions caused by believing your own press releases. It blows away the leftover bits of our last failure and encourages us to keep walking. It sifts into the closed-door areas of our lives and reminds us of the cracks that let in the breeze. And it helps bring a fresh outlook to our lives when our songs and spirits start to become stale. We don't do what we do in a vacuum. We have fans. And that's an awesome thing.

So thank you from the bottom of my heart for all of your support over the years. For all you have done and said and prayed. Thank you! And even when definition #6 had to be used, thank you for that too.

So this one's for the fans. You really blow me away!

LOST and FOUND

Anyone notice that LOST has all capital letters? I did. And I notice when referring to the show LOST in emails, chats, texts, etc. most of my friends tend to capitalize it like that.

In electronic communications, all caps mean shouting, screaming, etc. So according to that, the islanders are not just lost, they are LOST!

I think that sometimes, when we share the gospel, we try to tell people they are lost very softly. It's nice, quiet, subtle, maybe even apologetic. As if we were sorry for interrupting their descent into the abyss with the message of hope and salvation.

A car speeds towards a bridge. You, mud stained and rain soaked, see it coming. You know the bridge is out, because you traveled that path not so long ago and barely turned around in time. You're thankful to be alive but now you're torn. If you step out into the headlights, they might stop, they might swerve and have and accident. They might even ignore you and drive faster thinking you're some psychopathic miscreant on the prowl. But if you do nothing, then their fate is fairly certain. You make your decision and step out toward the road as the headlights glance off your glasses it. This is it! Do or die! Reaching deep down inside of you, you let out one long powerful... whisper. "Hey dude, I think the bridge is out."

Zoom! The car flies past. They don't even acknowledge you. You pat yourself on the back. "I tried."

Maybe the show has it right. Maybe we spend too much time using the words unsaved and not enough thought on the word "lost". When we say unsaved, it sometimes sounds like somebody who's... not like me. But if we think LOST, maybe we will feel the urgency of someone needing to be found. Even brothers and sisters in Christ can be LOST sometimes. They aren't unsaved, but in some ways they're still LOST. 100 - 1 = 99. WWJD.

Maybe we need to be saying it a little louder. Not meaner, not harsher, not angrier, not even bolder. But with a conviction that says, "this is important to me. You are important to me." I think I will start thinking of my LOST friends... and realizing that LOST is a big word. Thank God FOUND is even bigger!

Superman by Five For Fighting

Some songs just hit you... This song now ranks up with "Singing for my Life" by Bob Bennett as one of the greatest songs ever written. Maybe I feel like this sometimes and that's why it touched me so deeply. Sorry if that sounds self absorbed. But I have moments of feeling like this. And at those moments I fall to my knees.

I don't recommend much else from this guy. But this is definitely a good song.

SUPERMAN from the album
AMERICAN TOWN

I can't stand to fly
I'm not that naive
I'm just out to find
The better part of me

I'm more than a bird...I'm more than a plane
More than some pretty face beside a train
It's not easy to be me

Wish that I could cry
Fall upon my knees
Find a way to lie
About a home I'll never see

It may sound absurd...but don't be naive
Even heroes have the right to bleed
I may be disturbed...but won't you concede
Even heroes have the right to dream
It's not easy to be me

Up, up and away...away from me
It's all right...you can all sleep sound tonight
I'm not crazy...or anything...

I can't stand to fly
I'm not that naive
Men weren't meant to ride
With clouds between their knees

I'm only a man in a silly red sheet
Digging for kryptonite on this one way street
Only a man in a funny red sheet
Looking for special things inside of me
Inside of me
Inside me
Yeah, inside me
Inside of me

I'm only a man
In a funny red sheet
I'm only a man
Looking for a dream

I'm only a man
In a funny red sheet
And it's not easy, hmmm, hmmm, hmmm...

It's not easy to be me

We All Need by Bryan Duncan

From a cardboard hovel in a darkened street
To the well-lit windows of a penthouse suite,
All are desperate souls with a human fate,
And we protect ourselves within the walls we make.

And I stand in a corner, now, in my house of rest
And bow my head, beat my breast and say,
"God, please forgive me for this sinner's heart!
Though You show me your mercy,
It's the same old story keeping us apart."

And we all feel lost sometimes,
And we all feel hurt inside,
And we all cry, and we all need
The redeeming love of Jesus.

And I was raised with the lessons and the victory speech,
And I fought for the standards that I could not reach,
And I hold my tongue when the pain is great,
And I cover my tears as we celebrate,
While a private war rages with the fear and the doubt,
As I try to run faster to find a way out
I'm convinced if I stumble they'll just cast me aside,
And mock at my weakness and shatter my pride.
'Cause I've watched as we've stoned the more hesitant soul.
So, we all must remember,
It's still God's grace we all need to know.

And we all feel lost sometimes,
And we all feel hurt inside,
And we all cry, and we all need
The redeeming love of Jesus.

And we all feel lost sometimes,
We all feel hurt,
And we all cry,
And we all need

I'm Not Crazy, I'm Just A Little Unwell...

(I know this is a long post. Don't feel obligated to read it. I just had to clear my head.)

I am amazed at how much I have grown to love the music of Rob Thomas and the band Matchbox Twenty. I am even more amazed that some of the songs I have loved on the radio, but didn't know who the artist was has turned out to be songs by the band or Thomas.

Case in point: my favorite Carlos Santanna song is "Smooth". Now I know that Thomas did the vocals and wrote the song. Two of my favorite "unknown artist" songs (Lonely No More and This Is How A Heart Breaks) have also turned out to be Rob Thomas. Funny isn't it. You can be someone's fan but never know them...

I'm sure my "fans" would be surprised to know how much I have wrestled with the thought of being in music anymore. I feel too old... that I will never have my chance... I'm not good enough... I don't have the money to make that professional recording etc. All the usual stuff.

I am very happy that God has given me the platforms He's given me. I love being the worship leader at my church. But right now I'm sitting looking at lyrics from over 300 songs I have written. Some of them are really good. That's not bragging.

I have hundreds of CDs, over 10,000 mp3s on my computer. Over 2000 songs on my phone. I have Rock, pop, rap, metal, country, big band, oldies, r&b, worship, instrumental, jazz, comedy,...etc. And that's just in my favorites list. I listen to a lot of music. I have interviewed artists for magazines, reviewed music, and even once had an online guide to Christian music that was used by stores and writers as a reference point. So I feel safe saying that some of my songs are lyrically and melodically on a professional level. I look around me and there is music everywhere. Instruments, recordings, posters, equipment. I really do believe that God specifically designed me to serve Him and His people through music.

But I feel lost now... The next level seems so far beyond me. I don't know how to break the glass ceiling above me. I feel like a car that needs to shift gears... But I don't know how. And I think I'm getting tired of trying. One of my "friends" said it's time to settle down and give up the dream. Stop recording and just be thankful for what is in your hands. But I am thankful for what I have. I just can't buy that this is where I stop. He even says that my songs are professional enough to "make it". But to think that I could "make it"? I don't have the look or the checkbook. Why try? He thinks I'm crazy, I think I'm just a little unwell. Cause I think, maybe just one more try.

I look around and don't regret where I am. I do not think I have misstepped or settled or anything like that. I am blessed. But it's like, I got my wings and flew up to a high ledge. But while my friends are relaxing here, I notice a higher ledge (notice... higher not better). I want to go there (Edit: Actually, it's more like... I think I'm supposed to be up there...). But it takes a different flying technique. I went to a class in Nashville that taught me quite a lot about what it's like on the other side... They even gave me some tools to build what I need to get there... but they forgot to tell me how to use this thing I just built. Where's that on switch?

I figure this post will probably be too long or maybe too sad for people to read all the way through. But it felt good typing it out of my system.

That's the Point... Nobama part 2

And so it happens... I say, I am not voting for Obama because I don't feel he's presented his case well enough and immediately someone feels the need to correct me. To see what I'm responding to, you need to check out the comment section of my previous blog entry. I decided to blog my response.

Comment: "So sad, definetely you may be a prejudice, touched by your concious or an person who is totaly oblivious when it comes to politics. you don't have to say obama is not a men enough for the job."

Response - Wow! Did you even read my blog? Not judging him is the point. Judging his plan, record and skills is what I'm going to do. You can tell me you have a plan but you need to show me what it is before I buy into it. Why does that make it possible that I am racist? Why is it sad if I am "touched by my conscience(sp fixed in quote)?"

Comment: you don't know obama, you never see him and obviously you don't know what he is capable of. why judge him?

Response: Once again! That's the point. Do you know him? What is your basis for voting for him if you don't know him personally, or do you? What he says, his plans, his previous voting records, etc. is what I have to go by.

You're talking personal ethics, I'm talking political plan and skills to do a job. Show me that so I can make an informed decision. If I need to hire a guitar player for my band, I do look for a person of good character. But I also need them to play guitar. If they don't play guitar, it doesn't mean they are a bad person, it just means that the skills I am looking for are not in their particular skill set. You do get ,right?

Comment: what are you talking about is not what count in politics, the one who influence the people most wins.

Response: What I am talking about may not be what counts in the political game, but it is counts when I vote. I vote for the person I think best fits the job. Republican, Democrat, black, white, male or female etc. takes a back seat to who I see as being best qualified.

Comment: piece of advice, never act as if you know politics because all those candidates are runing for the good of their families, that what they went to school for and to feel good in life , they have to acomplish it, same as you, as a song whrite, i think you once wish you would write a song for alton john or micheal jackson that will go plantinum, not because you care about the people that will hear it, but because that what you are and want to acomplish, a song writer.



Response: Hopefully you are a US politician, or else, how can you make the previous statement? How can you say "all those politicians are running for the good of their families"? Do you know them?

I like Obama. I said that in the blog. This isn't personal and that is the point. I'm not basing my decision on color or him being a nice guy. Show me your plan. And that way I feel like I am making an informed vote.

By the way, I write songs because I care about the people who hear them. Yes, I would like a million dollar hit. Do you know why? Why say I don't know Obama, and then presume to know me? Do you know my motives? Tell me why I would want this particular thing? You don't know. So don't assume.

It comes down to this, we are hiring a president to do a job for this country. I will look at his resume. I will ask questions. I will not hire him because he is a good guy or because he is a white guy or black guy. You said, don't act stupid". That is the point. I don't plan on it. What is more stupid than making an uninformed vote? Hiring a person for one of the most important jobs in the world, because they seem like a nice guy. Or because they are black or white or hispanic or asian, etc. etc. etc. ad nauseum. That's stupid, to use your phrase.

Thanks for writing. This is not a personal attack against you. Just stating my case. Believe it or not, I am not prejudice. But I won't color my vote with race, white or black. To me that is a subtle for of racism! If I vote a black, white or asian man into office, it's because he is the most qualified for the position first and foremost.

By the way, on the positive side, I have been out to your blog and absolutely love some of the stuff you have out there. Your poems about your best friend are soooo excellent. You have great poetry writing skills. I will definitely be visiting it from time to time. Great pictures too!

Blessings!
Brad

Nobama... Not a black thing... (Rant Alert)

I knew I would hear it sooner or later, my only surprise is that it took so long. "Well," he said with his southern drawl, "I don't really plan on voting for Obama... but (here it comes) I'm not prejudice or anything..."

I have recently heard people apologizing or defending themselves for not voting for Obama... thinking that people would assume they didn't want him because he's black. That doesn't count the ones who were just afraid to say anything as they sheepishly walked over to the republican booth, made their quiet little marks then slipped out.

No apologies here. I don't plan on voting for Obama. And no apologies for not voting for a black man. I am supposed to vote for the best man or woman for the job.

So to my non-African American friends, please stop apologizing or feeling defensive. Don't let our society elect someone based on your fear of being labeled a bigot. If you don't agree with his policies, simply say no. And to those who would accuse people of racism for not voting for him... how dare you! I thought you wanted change? And yet you would brazenly perpetuate your own pet stereotypes (that if I don't vote for the black guy, it's because I am a racist). I know people who are voting for him JUST BECAUSE he's black. They don't have the first idea of what he thinks, believes, what he stands for, etc. But he's black and I have to go for the black guy.

If you want Obama, then vote for him. But don't do it to "finally get a black man in office." Yes, he has some good things to say and I like some of the things he stands for. Yes, if I had the opportunity to meet him, I would. And I am sure I would enjoy the time spent hanging out. But that isn't enough reason to give him one of the most powerful positions in the world. I need more than that. I need to hear the specifics that currently seem to be lacking from his rhetoric.

Of course I think finally having a black president would be cool! But I want the best man or woman for the job no matter what color they are. I want my next president to make history with wise actions and decisions, not just because of the color of his skin. Affirmative action should not extend to the presidency! And I think Senator Obama would agree.

Rant over, we now return you to your regularly scheduled life already in progress...

Future So Bright, I Gotta Wear Shades

Larry: "I can't see! I can't see!"
Moe:"What's the matter?"
Larry:"I've got my eyes closed..."

So the doctor says to me, you have vision damage from glaucoma. I didn't know what to say. I was quiet. I still am, really. I knew I had to speak to the youth that night and I knew that my wife was waiting for me to discuss how I felt. So I waited... waited for a feeling. Which one, I'm not sure. I wanted to my faith to rise up and make some bold declarations about "whose report I would believe" and other KJV based songs that somehow sound sooooo spiritual...

I sauntered back out to the receptionist, made small talk, laughed, etc. And then I stepped outside.

Did I mention they had dialated my eyes?

LIGHT! It hurt! Pain... from light. I froze. Not another step.... I couldn't see where I was going. My wife ran inside, got some of those funny makeshift shades that you put on your glasses. Now I looked as silly as I felt. Standing on the sidewalk, trying to see through the pain and the blur. And once the shades were on, everything was dark and blurry, but I could see to move forward. I got in the car, wanting to say something, but finding nothing that fit. So I said nothing.

I went to church, shared the message. Helped some people, before and after services. And then came to work, sat down and got quiet. Quiet.... And I thought about the pain of stepping outside earlier... the shock... and the lesson that I didn't get until now.

Sometimes, when we get truth, it's not some nice comfortable blanket that suddenly wraps around us and makes us happy. Sometimes it hits us like Paul and knocks us to the ground. And we sit stunned by a change of events. At that point, we choose. We walk forward, guessing where we are going, risking the danger of unnecessary suffering, or we can stop. Stop and wait. God may have another person bringing us what we need to make the next step like my wife did. We want to "press on" when God is telling us to be still. We want to try to face the brightness of knowing everything about a situation, when God is trying to show us the mercy of "seeing through a glass darkly".

I don't know what the future holds with this vision stuff. I will stay on treatment. I will believe in healing. But most of all, I will wait, trust and hope in God. For now I see through a glass darkly (and blurrily too!). But I know that He always sees clearly, and I follow Him.

And then I can be in the light as He is the light, and my futures' so bright, I gotta wear shades!

Life Interpreted? - Part 2

Back to Groucho.

I wish people could take words at face value. Even when symbolism is involved, you have to admire people who say, "Are you saying I have to go back into my mother's womb and be born a second time?" Talk about the ultimate stupid question. But Nicodemus asked it. And he got an answer. His question showed that he didn't plan on walking away and trying to interpret what the meaning behind Jesus' words were. He wasn't willing to bet his life on what he thought Jesus meant. He asked the dumb question for clarity.

When Jesus said, "eat my flesh and drink my blood", he lost most of his disciples... and they never really questioned or pressed him for clarity. The ones that stayed and asked the possibly dumb questions got to sit at the table for the first communion. Those who didn't, walked away and chose to live life interpreted instead of clarified.

So I have decided to ask dumb questions and say obvious things. "Did you mean...?" "Why did you..." "Is it that you don't like me?" And because I have done that, I have "communion" with some people who I originally thought didn't like me.

People say I am sometimes tactfully tactless (as one friend put it). That's ok. If we are going to break bread together, live life together, I will ask you dumb questions and I expect dumb questions from you. And though they may frustrate me or my friends and family like Nicodemus and Jesus, we will have answers. We will either be honest or lie, but we will have answers, not assumptions from the voices of our past.

Let others gather secretly like Pharisees to discuss what was "meant by that". We won't have to live our lives by braille, feeling around for nuances and intentions. I refuse to live life by interpretation.

Life Interpreted? - Part 1

"PLEASE ACCEPT MY RESIGNATION. I DON'T WANT TO BELONG TO ANY CLUB THAT WILL ACCEPT ME AS A MEMBER"

"A black cat crossing your path signifies that the animal is going somewhere."

"Anyone who says he can see through women is missing a lot."

"Politics is the art of looking for trouble, finding it everywhere, diagnosing it incorrectly, and applying the wrong remedies."

"An apprentice mortician? What, do you only bury live people?"

Groucho Marx of the game show "You Bet Your Life" and the famous Marx Brothers was best known for "saying things that he never said". Many times things he said were interpreted not quoted. "Quote me as saying I was mis-quoted." he would say.

We say what we mean, and yet somehow, people hear what they think; attaching our voices to their own thoughts. It's very strange. Maybe that's why we have four gospels and why so much of the Bible is written by so many different people, not one man's private interpretation.

I can almost hear the conversations between the angels in heaven. Why not just give the book to one guy, and let him live forever teaching everyone. (Warning, the following angelic conversation is fictional. It has not been delivered to me by an angel or dropped off by aliens.) Can you hear the angels saying...

THE TEXT OF THIS CONVERSATION HAS BEEN REMOVED... IT IS NOT FOR HUMAN VIEWING SO IT NEEDS TO BE SEALED FOR RIGHT NOW. MY APOLOGIES - ANONYMOUS ALIEN ANGEL

One gospel message? Yes. One gospel presentation? Which one? Luke may have been too technical, Matthew and Mark too traditional and John, too poetic and out there. But throw in writers from different cultures, perspectives, ages, times, seasons, etc. And you have a rounded, more balanced view than other belief whose whole thesis is based on writings handed down to one man from angels or aliens (OR ANGELIC ALIENS - TEXT ADDED BY ANONYMOUS ALIEN ANGEL).

Part 2 added soon...

Nice to hear...

Sometimes it's just nice to know people care.

In a funk from some things that happened last week, I posted "sad" as the way I was feeling on my myspace page. Then, I took an internet vacation to play with my iphone. No myspace for a while.

When I logged back in a few days later, I had been bombarded with messages from friends and family from all over the south (and one overseas) asking me if "everything's ok?", "what's wrong?", "are you feeling alright?", and a host of other questions. I even had a few phone messages. And I think someone told my mom.

That's amazing. It's like, wow, people care.

I do believe that. I may, at times, become the melancholy introspective artistic type. I rarely ever say woe is me... (BTW was was the name of King David's horse? - Let me know if you want the punchline.) But I do wrestle at times with feeling alone in the middle of a crowd. And God always seems to remind me somehow through kind words from friends.

So to all those who asked. I'm fine. Just a momentary struggle with my melancholic tendencies. And I know you care about me, but sometimes it is just nice to hear...