Saturday, June 05, 2004

Goodbye Gipper

My phone just buzzed from the office. Ronald Reagan has died.

Politics aside, the one thing about Ronald Reagan that I always respected was you knew where he stood. That quality in a leader can not be underestimated.

There will be some who will disagree with me, but Reagan's stout determination and unfaltering faith restored this country in many ways. He gave many of us hope and a renewed belief in the concept of America.

God rest his soul.

Who Is Who?


X-"You know I've spent my entire existence trying to please you."

Y-"All I've ever wanted is your love and approval."

X-"I don't know if you even hear me."

Y-"Sometimes I think the standards you set for me are impossible."

X-"I want so desperately to be part of your life."

Y- "I need your respect."

X-"I respect your needs."

Y-"I wish I could prove to you how important you are to me."

Y-"I wonder if I can ever truly please you."

X-"Sometimes I wonder if you even know I'm alive."

Y-"I want to be what you expect me to be but that's not always possible."

X-"I only want you to need me."

Y- "Are you there? Are you listening?"

X-"Sometimes it's like you don't want to see me."

Y-"Why don't you answer me?"

X-"Why can't I hear you?"

Y-"Don't be afraid to ask more of me"

X-"You can never expect too much of me."

Y-"Have I hurt you?"

X- "Please, trust me."

Y- "Maybe you don't need me."

X- "No one can hurt me like you can."

X-"I know what you want to hear, but sometimes you don't listen"

Y-"I hear you, but sometimes I can't answer."

X-"Do you really love me?'

Y-"Do you really love me?"


X&Y-"Sometimes I fear I've failed you."

Ambiguous.

Small Dog Big Lesson

I am off this morning to do a little clean up work at the church. We have a group coming in from Oklahoma using our new education building as a crash pad/way station on their way to Mexico. I only want to cut the weeds down around the back of the building so they don't lose any kids.

I threw our dogs out for a few minutes, only long enough for them all to bark so the neighbors could roll over in bed and say, "Hey it's 6:45 and those freakin' dogs are barking...it must be the weekend and Michael slept in!". I'm sure that brings them great joy, since during the week I let the dogs out at 1 a.m.

As I was putting the dogs up, our two smallest stay in crates in the house which they love, Winston - the special needs dog - did something he's never done before....he pushed his head against the crate door as I was closing it. He resisted my authority. He wasn't being mean...he was asking for more of me in the only way he could express it.

I laughed, let him out of the cage and rubbed his belly for a minute; then he ambled back into his crate and plopped down peacefully. He's already asleep.

Yet, there was a life lesson in that small moment.

How often do we push back against that which we love because we think that's the only way to get the attention we need?

Friday, June 04, 2004

Luau Luau, Oh No Me Gotta Go

My company is hosting a little gathering for employees this evening and we're going.

Amy has been feeling lousy all week. We think (and actually pray) it's due to dehydration. Today we convinced the medical minds that be of that diagnosis and also not to hospitalize her. Instead she's going to administer fluids at home for a few days and we'll see if that leads to an improvement.

I thought we would simply pass on the company event, but Amy is rather insistent that we do something "fun". She doesn't apparently see the light moments that I do in sweeping up dog hair around the house and looking at the caller ID to determine if a bill collector is on the line.

So we're off for the night, or as much of it as we can take.

The theme for the evening is a "luau".

*

The joke around the office is the company is throwing this little party "in luau a raise."



*Artwork swiped from Penelope Illustration


A Side Order of Sanity

First rule of blogging...don't blog about blogging.

Blew that.

Last time Joey, my stepson. was in town he asked me with a great deal of incredulity, "Why do you blog anyway?"

I didn't really have an answer.

I enjoy writing. I wanted a daily discipline in my life. It's free?

When I challenged myself to write every day, I did attempt to set a limit on how much of my time that writing would occupy. As I recall, I imposed the random standard of no more than an hour a day.

I adhered to that restriction....at least for the first hour.

Writing here occupies more of my time lately.

I suppose that's due in part to our lifestyles. Amy's health issues keep us close to home, the pesky general limitations of poverty, we have only basic cable, the Spurs tanked and the worst one of all...I'm getting old and boring.

I've wrestled a lot of demons in my life, some have ripped at the very bowels of my beliefs...they've all left scars. Now I'm a creature of few bad habits....heck, there are illegal drugs people take nowadays the effects of which I'm completely oblivious too. The names of some of those drugs I can't even pronounce.

So I readily confess to diving into this swirling vortex of words to purposely lose myself....to occasionally find myself.

Although Amy has at times referred to herself as a "blog widow", I know she understands and is supportive... unless of course I publish a candid picture of her.

God? Thanks for that forgiveness thing.

Still, Joey's question haunts me and I still have no real answer.

This is simply where all the mixed up stuff in my life blends together.

Call it sanity succotash.

At least I'm getting my vegetables.


(Written in an hour or less. See? It shows!)

Thursday, June 03, 2004

Mama Was A Divebomber

"Serpentine, Shel, serpentine!!!"

That has to be one of the funniest lines from the movie "The In-Laws", the 1979 version with Peter Falk and Alan Arkin - not the recent remake which wasn't anywhere near as humorous.

In the film, Falk bellows that advice to Arkin as they are coming under machine gun fire. It's a reminder to run in a serpentine motion because a moving target is harder to hit.

Whenever Amy and I walk in or out of our house lately we do the same thing....run and yell, "Serpentine, Serpentine!"

We're not coming under attack from a machine gun nest, but rather from the nest of baby swallows encamped immediately above our front door.



Actually the baby birds are quite peaceful....Mom and Dad on the other hand are outright mean.



The little birds are almost big enough to fly away, but until they do their mother and father defend them by dive-bombing us or any other unlucky trespasser on our porch.



They'll get close enough where you can feel the breeze from their wings. Or if you're stupid enough to stand there, get a picture of their wing



What's interesting is that in a few days, the parent birds will use the same approach on their offspring that they've perfected on us. They'll swoop and squawk and generally harass them. It's their way of telling the fledglings it's time to move out.

Sometimes I suppose you have to go on the offensive, even with the ones you love.

If you do, remember to yell, "Serpentine! Serpentine!" to let them know you care.

To The Best Of My Recallection

For the record....the great recall saga has come to a close.

I thought it only appropriate to photographically document the last stages.





The odds of my 1997 Achieva experiencing spontaneous combustion have evidently been reduced, and I've mailed off the form to the folks at Oldsmobile so they can stop worrying...and perhaps back off on their medication.

Something for RLP Readers

Since my Real Life Preacher decided to direct folks here the other day from his blog, I thought I might gift his readers with what I guess we could call bonus material.

Not too long ago RLP wrote about a wonderful child in our church named, Chloe.

He doesn't post a lot of pictures on his site, especially of congregation members. I do though.


I also actually wrote about Chloe last summer when she was formally baptized as a Believer. That story is here, but mostly I wanted to pass along the picture....and yes, that's Gordon doing the dunking.

Wednesday, June 02, 2004

The Trip To Sensible

Common sense is the knack of seeing things as they are, and doing things as they ought to be done. - Harriet Beecher Stowe

My 1997 Oldsmobile Achieva has been the subject of a recall for some time now. Apparently there is a chance the ignition switch can catch fire. Every few months, for the past year or two, I've received a notice from Oldsmobile reminding me of the threat of fire, and asking if I've gotten the switch replaced, sold the car, or been incinerated. Every few months I look at the notice and toss it in the trash.

I don't want my Achieva to burst into flames - although if you saw my car you might say that suggestion merits some debate - but I haven't had the work done because the folks at Oldsmobile insist that the recall be performed at a dealership in a little town more than 30 miles away. There are no Oldsmobile dealerships in San Antonio any longer - for some reason when the company announced they were going to stop making cars, the dealerships here closed. So now apparently the entire storehouse of Oldsmobile ignition switch expertise in South Texas is housed exclusively in the tiny community of Seguin, Texas. That's big news, since heretofore Seguin was famous only as home to the world's largest pecan.



Anyway, Sunday afternoon I gave in - I sent an email to Oldsmobile's customer service folks explaining that I had already seen the world's largest pecan, which by the way is made of concrete, and really could see no reason to go to Seguin ever again. I asked if perhaps there was someone in the 9th largest city in the United States capable of performing this task instead.

To Oldsmobile's credit I received an almost immediate response: "No." Actually this was the exact quote : "I apologize but according to the dealership locator tool on www.oldsmobile.com the closet Oldsmobile dealership to you is located in Seguin, Texas. An Oldsmobile dealership must perform recalls"

I assumed that they meant "closest" although I did momentarily toy with the idea that in addition to hosting the world's largest pecan Seguin might also be the proud home of a closet Oldsmobile dealership. In any case, we then exchanged a flurry of emails which included insightful statements from the company like: "unfortunately there is no way that I can make a closer dealership for you" and "There is no Oldsmobile dealership that is nearer to you. This is not something that we can change for you." They also suggested I call random car dealers in San Antonio and ask if they might perform the work and then tagged out that brainstorm with "Best of luck to you in this endeavor".

It was obvious to me that I was dealing with people who were trained to give polite programmed responses, but not to think. They had their "dealership locator tool" but nothing else in their tool chest.

I decided there was little more I could do except have some fun at their expense...so I did.

I must have exchanged 8 or 9 emails with 4 or 5 different customer service people and their supervisors, all of which were marked by a fine balance of polite vapidness indicating everyone had memorized the same handbook on customer relations, or at least the first chapter.

Finally I decided it was bordering on cruelty to play it out any further so I ended the silliness with a gentle reply that I figured would let them off the hook.

Dear -----,

I've decided to simply take the risk that the car will burst into flames.
Thank you for the many emails, I only wish the customer service department had spent half the time trying to locate a dealership in the 9th largest city in the nation capable of doing this one hour repair job as it did corresponding with me.

Yours in cremation,

Michael Main

An hour or so later my phone rang at home. In a matter of seconds the woman calling told me she was from Oldsmobile and, suppressing a laugh, informed me that, "Any G.M. car dealer in San Antonio can perform this repair." She added, "I've read all these silly emails and I have no idea why our customer service department didn't suggest that in the first place."

She then told me she had contacted a dealership less than 2 miles from my home and would arrange to have the ignition switch replaced at my convenience.

It was that easy.

We shared a few more giggles over the absurdity of the situation. She apologized for the confusion and I thanked her profusely for being able to look away from the customer service handbook and the dealership locator tool long enough to see common sense.

I'm having the ignition switch replaced tomorrow.

To get to sensible, sometimes you have to take the scenic route.

The Preacher Spike

I was half planning on writing today about how my brief dalliance with blogger fame was waning.

After being mentioned recently when Gordon outted himself as Real Live Preacher the number of visitors to my normally quiet little blog spiked dramatically. I noticed yesterday however that my 15 minutes of blogosphere notoriety appeared to be fading.

Now Gordon's done it again and the hit counter is spinning at an abnormal rate.

So, welcome all you RLP readers.

I have to confess I did call Gordon and half heartedly inquire if he was playing one of his social engineering experiments - remind me to blog sometime about the time I took him to a bar and we spent the night altering the mood of several well oiled folks in the crowd by making specific musical selections on the jukebox - but he assured me his motives were far more pure than that.

I believe him...he is my Pastor after all.

Of course now that I've planted the seed...

Tuesday, June 01, 2004

The Wind Is There In Spirit

Several years ago, my preferred form of exercise was bicycle riding. My preferred excuse not to ride back then was usually not the rain, or the heat, it was often the wind.
If the wind was blowing hard I automatically knew it would be a tough ride. Sure, when the wind is at your back it's great, but sooner or later you have turn into the wind and on a bike that translates into a lot more work. If the wind is blowing really hard, it can be truly exhausting and can ruin a good ride.

Recently, as I've mentioned, my preferred form of exercise is walking. Ironically though I've actually tried to convince myself on occasion that it was reasonable to skip my daily march because of the lack of wind.

There is actually a modicum of sense in this admitted rationalization. For example, yesterday it was hotter than blazes, humid enough to make any swamp creature smile, and there wasn't so much as a whisper of a breeze. By the time I finished my trek I was completely depleted.

However if there is even the slightest movement of air on any given day, I know when I climb a tough hill or exit into an open area at a brisk pace, I will be refreshed almost instantly by the breeze. The wind helps me maintain and often regain my momentum.

I'm told in both Hebrew and Greek the term Holy Spirit is something of a translation injustice. In Hebrew this component of the Godhead is often described with the word ruah; in Greek, the term k'numah is used. Both of these are powerful descriptions when teamed with the Lord. They literally translate to the very breath or wind of God.



It dawned on me today how my exercise efforts have been something of a metaphor for my spiritual growth.

When I have found myself fighting the wind, I have been slowed and at times defeated. When I find myself seeking the very breath of Christ...the God Wind...I am refreshed, renewed....and I know I can keep going.


In his hand is the life of every creature and the breath of all mankind. - Job 12:10

Stargazing

"The world should know of those who give so much for liberty.
The dearest thing in all the world to a father and mother---their children."
- Congressional Record 1917

Each day on my walk I pass this image in the window of a home on a small cul de sac.



Many of you know what it symbolizes, but in case others might want an explanation, it is what's been termed a "Blue Star Flag" or "Service Flag".

It's a tradition started during the First World War - American families displayed small flags or cardboard placards in their windows to let others know that someone in their family was serving our country in the military.

The tradition grew more popular during World War II, thanks in large part to radio promotion. In recent years, there has been a small resurgence.

Tradition calls for the blue star, which symbolizes hope and pride, to be replaced with a silver star should that family's service member be wounded....if they are killed, a gold star is put in its place representing sacrifice.

As I mentioned, one of these small placards sits prominently in the window of a home I pass every day. It is in fact the home of the two young red haired boys I wrote about a couple of months ago.

I don't know what family member of theirs is serving, but when I saw the placard placed in the window a few weeks ago I started thinking about those little boys differently.

I considered writing this on Memorial Day. I thought that would have been fitting, but then I decided that would actually be wrong.

You see, that placard is in the window to remind passersby like me that a great sacrifice is being made by the family in that home. It's not something they put out once a year on holidays...it's an every day reminder.

It should be for me too.

I've also decided each day as I walk past that home I will say a small prayer.

A prayer for safety...and a prayer of thanks.


Aw Heck

The Lakers won and it was 104 degrees in San Antonio on Monday.

Did I miss the rapture?

Monday, May 31, 2004

Just Say Huh?

One of the interesting things about the new blogger templates is the profile section which keeps running stats. It says since I started writing this blog I've written 138,229 words.

That's the equivalent of a couple of fairly good sized novels....or the forward to a Tom Clancy book.
=====
Has anyone else had it with the TV commercials for drugs that don't tell you what ailment they're used to treat? There's a reason for that. If the commercial mentions an actual disease, disorder, or dysfunction, the ads must also tell you the side effects. The ads that don't tell you what the drug is for are not required to tell you that it might result in cloven hoof syndrome or whatever. They can simply show you pretty pictures of happy people running through fields of daisies while the announcer urges you to"ask your doctor if profitmarginalis is for you."
======
Gee now I'm up to 138, 399 words.

Cool.

Sorry I wanted to round it off...ack, now I blew that. This could be addictive.

I wonder if there's drug for this form of inanity.

If so, do you suppose there are side effects?

I Hear Lakeside Calling...

The official countdown has started. I realized it this morning as I got in my daily walk when the temperature was 80 and the humidity was at 94 percent....it was 8 a.m.

I'm ready for vacation.

In 30 days or so we'll pack up for a little time on the shores of Lake Erie in Ohio. Today the high temperature in Lakeside is 75 degrees.

Let us pray.

Time Is For The Birds

Our annual ritual of spring/summer is about to complete its first cycle...the first batch of barn swallow nestlings are about to crowd themselves out of their home and into independence.



It always amazes me how quickly these birds mature. Only a week or so ago, Amy and I were remarking on how we noticed the eggs had hatched.

Time flies...next week I expect these little birds to do the same.

Sunday, May 30, 2004

Don't Blog Over Spilt Tea

As our kids grew up I attended innumerable events in which they were featured - band concerts, plays, half time shows, awards ceremonies, graduations, etc. For many years I took our video camera to every one of those events and spent the evening watching everything that transpired through the lens of the camera.

It took far too many years before I realized I rarely, if ever, went back and watched those video tapes. Once I had that revelation, I stopped bringing the video camera to events. I opted instead to cherish those happenings as they occurred. I held onto memories instead of Memorex.

My friend John and I had the discussion recently, and in fact it ended up on his blog, that one of the hazards of writing every day is that you can find yourself constantly on the lookout for blog fodder, stuff to write about.

Comparing blog fodder to those video moments is perhaps unfair. When it comes to blog material, the incident, event, or oddity has already been experienced. The decision is whether you write about it, or as is the case when you have several fellow bloggers experiencing it together, who is going to write about it first.

That's been a recurring theme between myself and Gordon, our Pastor and dear friend. Since until recently Gordon's blog identity was secret it became something of an unwritten rule that should we share an experience worthy of our blogs, one of us would have to choose. It's only happened a time or two where something notable, humorous, or bizarre occurred and one of us has turned to the other and said, "Are you going to blog about this or am I?"

Today something similar happened, with a slightly different twist.

Our church service today was meaningful, and moving. I don't want that to get lost in this story. Our community of believers held each other tight, and shared our struggles.

The beginning of our service in particular was very hard.

Our friend, Barbara, is dying. Gordon announced that Barbara is now hospitalized. The sudden and rapid decline of her health has been very difficult on our entire congregation. It's been especially rough for Amy who feels that, due to her own health problems, she has not had an opportunity to be there for Barbara.

Today we prayed for peace for Barbara and for God to somehow grant us the ability to accept His apparent will.

Amy wept.

I asked for prayers of strength and healing for Amy and our good friend Cynthia held Amy close.

I shut my eyes holding back tears.

Gordon prayed aloud and walked over to where Amy and I sat to lay his hands upon us.

Unfortunately my giant mug of sweet tea was in the aisle at my feet and when Gordon came to us, his foot hit the mug and a measure of tea reminiscent of the Exxon Valdez oil spill gurgled out onto the floor of the sanctuary.

It was no big deal, most of the church members didn't notice, and those who did didn't care.

Our small community of faith is quite used to messy church...personally I think that's how church is supposed to be.

To his credit, Gordon didn't miss a beat. He kept reaching toward Amy and prepared to deliver more deep and heartfelt words of prayer.

However, he did take one brief moment to give me a quick glance and jokingly whisper, "Don't blog about this."

It made me smile and despite her tears I saw a slight smirk from Amy.

Honestly, I'm not sure I could have asked for a more immediate answer to prayer.


Today is Pentecost Sunday.

Gordon's sermon message was clear: We don't have to have all the answers. In fact, maybe the answer is that we shouldn't expect to have the answers at all. Instead we should be open to the Holy Spirit, and trust in the mysterious ways and works of God.

I certainly don't have the answers, but today I believe God worked through a shared smile and spilt tea.


In the last days, God says, I will pour out my Spirit on all people
- Acts 2:17

The Heat is On

I've been unbending in my pledge to walk every day, which I started on Ash Wednesday. For much of that time, I have been blessed by weather atypical for South Texas. I think we've hit 90 degrees only once or twice so far this season and temperatures were moderate all Spring.

The good times are over now.

The heat, and what's worse, the humidity, have set in. I'm still going walking this morning ....presumably as soon as I stop trying to bolster my enthusiasm by writing here...

Okay...okay...I'm going.

Stop nagging.

Sorry sometimes I talk to myself.