6 Minutes Dougie Fresh, You're On!

Well, that flashback to the glory days of hip hop are used to describe my post. I have to create various and sundry challenges for the writing discipline, because, well, I want to become a writer!

I'm doing the 6-minute challenge. I have 4 minutes left!

I overheard a (actual) writer on NPR, saying, "whatever you do, do not 'not write'" or something to that effect.

So I am trying to write. A lot. Maybe I should say 'often' because I'm just not going to get that much written in 6, make that 2, minutes. At least I am writing again, and I will be writing more.

Your gift, gratis, from me!

Late Christmas gift? Sure. New Year's blessing? Mos def!

THough I will end it with a friendly 'hello'. Wait, make that a friendly, 'aloha'.
Cause I gotta say buh-bye too. Six minutes are gone!

~pax~
MMS

The Stormy Calm Before the Calming Storm

So here I am, a roarin' back!!! Back for the attack!!! Well, perhaps more like tomorrow I am back.

You see, today is Labor Day. A day to do anything and everything other than real work.

Though I cannot look at this--writing--as work. It has become so very mch more than that to me. Its an interest, a passion, a pursuit: all of these thigns, mos def!

And it is slowly, but surely, becoming a lifestyle. It is something I love.

This brings me to two of my very favorite quotes. The first has to do with that 'work' thing. Something I belive in, support, and try to do well. And its somethign I often find mysefl avoiding like the proverbial plague!

The quote in question is, "do what you love and you'll never work a day in your life". Well, its something like that. And, its from someone like me. I think this way too, and its exactly what I am seeking with, for, and through my life. My life's work is to not work. Well, it is to do something, make something, say something, paint something (whether through words, music, electricity, wood, or even, say, paint?). My goal is to leave my mark on the world, on history and humanity. Though the goal is to devote my life to it, work as hard as I can in doing it, and never having it be work, per se.

A labor of love, if you will.

Now, the question is, what exactly is this? What is that true calling? What is my vocation to be?

I preach. I feel called to preach. I feel I do this well. Though there are so many parts of the preaching lofe that are NOT me. So much to ministry that is not minstry. I tmakes one wonder about being in ministry! And sometimes Christians make it so hard to find Jesus and help the gospel live in the world. Though I believe in nothing, if not sharing Christ's gospel--the true, biblical gospel, not some 'church culture of the 20th century' tradition of a meeting and eating club. I have to keep at this one--Jesus doesnt seem to let me stop! And that's cool with me.

I am a musician. At least, I hope I am. I play guitar, I have for a long time. Though the key is to go from being 'one who plays guitar' to 'guitarist' and then from 'guitarist' to 'musician'. And then, the ultimate transition is to go from 'musician' to 'artist'. Here's to that!

Then there is writing...you know how I feel about writing. At least, if you read the first paragraph, you know how I feel about writing. I want to find some way to bring writing into a predominant part of my life. Work? Well, maybe more like one of those "things I do".

I love animals and work hard to take care of as many as I possibly can. I'd do just about anything to have a shot at becoming a navy chaplain--or any other branch, for that matter. I love cooking and I cook very well, if I do say so myself. I actually enjoy doing electrical work, and--believe it or not-- I'm good at that! I could really see myself pitching for the Atlanta Braves and they can always use another good relief pitcher. Hey, as far as that goes, I love smoking and drinking and ordering in restaurants! (Not really, well, not all of those. Not anymore, at least). Point is, there is so very much I could see myself doing. Things I would hope to do--and I do hope to do them. I hope to do them well, and maybe make it a life's work. Maybe all of them.

To help narrow it down a tad bit, I use one other quote. I discovered this up in Harlan County, Kentucky. Not exactly where I would expect to find a real key to my future, but hey--you take what you can get!

It has become a guiding principle in my life, and I find the more closely I am to this ideal, the better things are.

"Don't ask 'what does the world need?', ask 'what makes me come alive?'. Because, what the world needs is people that have come alive".

Here's to that!

Have a day of rest and relaxation. Chilax a bit, if you will. Though tomorrow, I am getting down to business. I never been so serious about getting serious. And I aim to be hard at it--trying to devote my life to spending every free moment, using every gift I have, to make this world a better place. And in so doing, never work another day of my life!

happy Labor Day amigos!

MMS~

Me and General MacArthur

To the masses--the scores and scores of readers, to my dear friends, to complete and wayfaring strangers:

Hello there! Yes, it's me, the long-lost bloggist.

Though I first let you down. I am sorry to say that you will not have too much to read. Take a second. Compose yourself. I let you down gently.

It's not all that bad. Maybe it's more like all-good? You see, I will be back to feed your literary and intellectual hunger once again. "An enigmatic union of esoteric thought"*. It's just a matter of time.

I am using the remaining days of (unofficial) summer, that is, the days leading up to Labor Day, to rest, work, think, compose my self, and compose...myself~

The return is tentatively scheduled for the Tuesday, Wednesday, or Thursday after Labor Day, whatever date that is. I know, I know. I do this a lot. Though hey, I love me some national holidays! There are such excellent opportunities to regain strength, regather steam. And they are a professional procrastinators dream! Hey, it's just my way.

I am seriously pondering adding a bit of new--to me--technology to my repertoire. I have avoided Facebook and other 'social networking' sites and groups and web-based communities like the plague. No, not entirely because I'm an adult (I borrowed that joke from Entourage, one of my very favorites. And I don't entirely agree with the joke). I just get lazy with some techno-trends. Some I stay away from just because others are go so completely ape-sh#t over them. I tend to do this with over watched, over-hyped, and over-discussed t.v. shows. Por ejemplo, I have never watched an episode of American Idol, Survivor, The Apprentice or any other piece of reality-based garbage. I'm sure that makes a powerful statement and completely shifts the balance of power on the world.

I routinely stay 2-5 years behind most everyone else with new stuff. Unless it's musical in nature. Or, unless I can afford it.

Though the dear and beautiful Mary Ann seems fairly interested in Facebook. It seems to be the least dork of the choices out there. I know several other very cool people that are Facebook enthusiasts. And some of them are even over the age of 30! ( I still think that people under 30 completely cringe when the over-30's break into those domains, though it's becoming more and more tolerated.) They go with the millions of others that are completely uncool with Facebook, the dreaded Myspace and any others that are fly by night, day, week, or year. And Twitter, well, Twitter seems to be fairly blog-friendly in nature. I suppose that's like the main goal of it, actually. And so that just may be a perfect compliment to this here 'Artesian well' of written-word brilliance. Put that with the coming storm--make that the coming Storm (a Blackberry at long last!!!) and we may just have a full-on artistic and technological revolution and renaissance. We shall see.

In any event, I shall return.**

best,
Mateo~

ps-for the theologically-minded, spiritually-pulled, homeletically-curious, or those who just like to read, speculate, pontificate, or argue, please don't forget about my more ecclesially-oriented blog, www.bum-cat.blogspot.com! there will be an update or to added to that sooner than later. pax~

*borrowed form the most brilliant Dream Theater, and their song, A Rite of Passage

**borrowed from the famous declaration of one General Douglas MacArthur:

"The President of the United States ordered me to break through the Japanese lines and proceed from Corregidor to Australia for the purpose, as I understand it, of organizing the American offensive against Japan, a primary objective of which is the relief of the Philippines. I came through and I shall return."

The Process

hi there. good Wednesday to you, good people. the morning is fine, the latte is smooth, though stout! life is good and off to a good start today.

I am increasingly drawn to this craft. writing. what makes writing good? what writing do we want to read? how does one write? why?

this here blog was created, and is, hopefully, created often with the intent of exploring these questions and quests. ah, to write and be read. or, simply, to write. the process.

the last thing I want this arena for the great craft to be is a sort of electronic journal. an e-diary. well, one doesn't necessarily need blog or other electronic medium or space to keep a daily journal (that's what Moleskin's are for!)

and why write a personal journal or diary to share with the world? I mean, some folks do it--its their cup of tea. anyway, others are much better at that than I.
but let's face it, if it was the inner-most, or most-mundane, dia rhetorical thoughts of a celebrity...it would be a hit.

with the occasional inner-voice gone outer (the classic "inny" v "outty" debate), the occasional self-musing, or the oft over used parenthetical phrase (of which I am quite fond [obviously!]), notwithstanding, this place must be another thing. it will be something different. I hope.

to that end, I will keep write. writers write, and I want to be a writer. my last teacher of Christian Thought--that's a particular class, not a lifelong devotion of connecting with Jesus--was Brooks Holifiled. I know, he sounds like either a kind of shoe or child or the latest wife of the great champ Evander! (Evander is Holyfield) He is neither. A is a good teacher. He was a very difficult teacher for me, and thus, a good teacher. In this case, though=good. That's not always true. But for me, and him, it was true. HE was a good teacher because I learned some things.

Well, I learned one thing that I know of, and it's about writing! So, God bless Brooks Holifield.

In his class Brooks stressed the importance of writing for those past-present-future practitioners of the Christian faith. (btw, it is not a true Christian faith if it is not practiced. theoretical theology never saved the world). He told us what, ihho, writing is.

Writing is re-writing.

It took me a little while to fully grasp that. But I am still starting to get it. It you simply go with the first thing that jumps in your head, its not writing--it's journeying. It's a stream of consciousness. It's a diary.

Those are certainly forms of writing, though not the kind of writing I am after here. I want to create a body of work that is good. Good work is important.

While we may not think work is necessarily pleasant, unless you are a work-a-holic, I think it can be. If you love your work. Business should rarely, if ever, mix with pleasure less the two become confused with the other.

I love this kind of work, and would so love for writing to be my work. I already employ writing in my work in many ways. That's a real gift from God. And so, I will write. And re-write. And write.

An important element of which to be aware with these musings is the particular process I use for this particular medium. I tend to arrive at the 'publish post' button-pushing-time somewhere between 'editing ' and 'finished'. That would mean there's been some re-writing done, and that there is plenty more re-writing left to do!

One could say that my 'publish post' button needs replacing much more frequently than my 'save as draft' button. And one would be correct in so saying.

The reader's of The Digital Moleskine will typically see something like a 3rd draft with each first version. And then, over time, the post will be progressively more and more re-written. Re-fined. Re-al.

Many, many things bring this about. Occasionally I will lie awake at night fretting the possibility of glaring typo's (imagine the embarrassment of trying to text 'I forgot' with a misplaced 'r' for a 'g'!) or other mistakes and errors. Occasionally the notion to add, delete, correct, clarify, qualify, or otherwise alter and change something from the first stab.

Point being, pretty much all the time, it's a work in progress. Though hang in there with me, won't you? It is my joy to try and offer you something of worth over time. It is my hope that this little blog o' mine be worth your time.

I aim to provide some good work, good reading, good stuff. I aim to not only write, but re-write and re-fine and give you something that you can re-gurgitate. Not make you re-gurgitate, mind you. Though something you can and will want to remember. And maybe, pass it on. And maybe, re-spond.

Be well, do good work, and keep in touch.*®

M~


P.S.--that tag line is some one's good work. It's Garrison Keillor, from The Writer's Almanac.
That show is some great work. Do check it out: writersalmanac.publicradio.org

Part II

Yo, ho, ho and ahoy mateys!

"I'm back, baby!" (Bender, Futurama)

Typically, I see alligators on t.v. I have seen some at the zoo, of course. And to tell the truth, my folks tell of a wild adventure down through the Florida Everglades when I was a wee tot. Though, I rarely--actually, I have never--seen an alligator at the donut shop! Great minds think alike, I suppose. This Florida gator is just the latest addition to the cast of characters and incredible moments that I have experienced in these past three days.

We must start by saying how very fortunate--how truly blessed beyond any proper appreciation--I am that I was born in these here Unites States of America. And to the Republic, I give thanks to God. I am proud to be an American. I kind of hate that song, no offense to Lee Greenwood, but hey...

What I really hope is that this sense of pride I feel never turn to arrogance. That my patriotism never see nationalism. And may I always be painfully aware that the only thing I did to deserve such freedom is to be born inside the lines. Well, I suppose I did dabble with the United States Air Force for a brief time...

Though as my wife and I stood at The Hangout, a faily new, well, hang out in Gulf Shores, and watched a bang-up fireworks display, I realized how good we have it. And one should always remember that there are just as many, if not many more, that do not have it so good. And more than likely, those that have it good usually benifit from those that dont have it so good. Every action, equal and opposite reaction and so on, and so forth. Those that dont have it so good? Well, they were born outside the lines. Funny ole' world.

But its this nation's birthday that got us down here. Well, thats what gave MA a less than common off day, which gave us a nice little push down the highway. The 4th of July holiday is an extraordinary time. And its a meaningful moment to soak it all in. Reflect. Celebrate. Eat.

In the next day or so, you will be reading about my new love and appreciation of all things Jimmy Buffett. There is much to tell of how we ambulated round the streets of Gulf Shores, seeing the sights, eating the shrimp, and swimming with the fishes.

THough the best part, which means its really, really, good, is the sights and sounds of children in the time and place. There was a little crying (I think resulting from a live band's full sonic assault and repeated droppings of the F-Bomb). There was some bossing around, and some bullying (brothers and sisters will be brothers and sisters). But best of all, was just the chatter of wonder and the laughter of youth and summer and sand and sea. It took me back, a long, good, way.

I had a great life goring up, with a better-than-great family. From our first trip in the Everglades, to our next, last trip (for this trip) to the beach today, its still a good life.

I'm ready, excited, and committed to start really living it. Take a huge bite of that peach that is life and let those juices drip from my chinny-chin-chin. Bt first, I have to go save Mary Ann from that ole' donut loving reptile. Perhaps I'll name him "Homer". TTFN.

ciao,
M~

The Pirate, the Sea, and Luca Brazzie

Face front, true believers!

Yes, it is true. I am back! And this time...of, its all been said before. Just know that I am back, and I am ready to write. And write I will. And, later it will be. You see, I am square in the middle of a wonderful adventure. And its sharply dinnertime in this particular wonderful adventure. My bride of 13 plus years (the fare Mary Ann, of course) and I have yet to dine. And dine we will! More than that, we will sup together on this fine day--it is a fine day, the 4th of July, a fine day, indeed--with some fresh catch. Tuna I am thinking. Of course, the obligatory fresh shrimp, probably some crab--legs or claws--taters, maybe some maters, corn, and the rest...well, leave that to your imagination.

This entry is a quick one. Check that. This is a rushes entry. I have so much to tell, and yet MA is actually ready ahead of schedule! So, the opportunity, as the day, must be seized!

I will be back, although it may be, technically, July 5th. But in an effort to show my readership (hopefully more than the triumvirate of "me, myself, and I") that I mean business, and pleasure, with my new commitment to write...I am back, as promised. And its Independence Day.

Happy Independence Day. Come back. There is much to tell. Read. Celebrate. Live.

See you soon.

M~

Never Forget

On this fine day, I plan to kick back, relax, and enjoy life--a life made possible, not entirely, but, in large part by some folks who have died. They died for me, and they died for you. Particularly if one is a citizen of the United States, one should feel a great debt of gratitude to the American soldier. and very much as well the United States marine, the sailor, the air men and the officers of each.

Memorial remembers, and honors those many men and women who gave their life while fighting enemies of the United States, foreign and domestic and those that threaten our constitution. That's Memorial Day. Now it is a fine thing to remember all servicemen and servicewomen, though the day belongs to those who have died. As in the saygin, "all gave some, some gave all". Let's never forget what they did, and why they did it.

It is a pet peeve, probably nothing more, that people tend to mix and match and confuse their holidays. We make so many things a holiday without giving the ture weight and reverence to what the very term means: holy day.

Holy means set apart, and there are some days that a worth setting apart. Memorial Day is one such day. So is Veteran's Day, to be sure but the two are not the same. Please...learn the difference, share what you have learned, kick back, relax, and remember.

Peace be with you.

epilogue--yes, you are correct. I'm back baby!!! I've been gone way too long I know. Though I will be slipping back from obscurity into regularity more and more throughout the summer. I will be away for a few more days yet, though I'll see you soon. In fact, I'll see you on the solstice!

Cause I'm the Taxman

Yeah baby! The Beatles and the IRS! On tour and coming to a lap-top near you! Or me!

Today, all day and all night, folks will be scrambling to get those tax returns post-marked with a 4-15 date. It's the yearly bedlam that so many of us forget about until this very day. Some, tragically, remember this date the day after today! Sounds like someone I know...real well.

I have learned my lessons, and learned them well. I don't need the stress...there's plenty of other sources for that. I file for my extension early!

So may I suggest that as people are crashing the servers and o.s.'s with exchanges of spreadsheets, e-files, emails to their accountants (I just so happen to have the best in the world, Miss Linda Bynum--she keeps me straight) that you add just a little bit of aural magic to this otherwise calamity of a day. And since John, Paul, George and Ringo had it figured out so well, may as well listen to them, no? This song, Taxman* opens Revolver. Folks, Revolver is an album--a serious album. This masterpiece from The Beatles, released August 5, 1966, is brilliance and soul: the potential source for a terabyte of blog, a library of books and a lifetime of blissful listening.

Since you are no doubt busy this day, I shan't keep you any longer.
Keeping with my commitment, sort of, to stay regular, current, and disciplined with my writing--blog writing at least--I had to get a quickee in on this monumental day...oh behave!

I just blogged to say I love you.

See you next time and get those taxes in! as ridiculous, unfair, unbalanced and oppressive as our tax system is, you must do it or there will be big trouble. Trust me...I'll be climbing up hill for the next few years. Though I will make it to that hilltop. Thanks again Linda! Thanks again everybody!

Peace to you amigos~
Mateo, Tax Payer Reluctant



*For more info on this incredible song and landmark album, you may search your local library...or check this link. You may need to tweak it a bit, though its cool. Out.
http://www.songfacts.com/detail.php?id=101

Me and Slim Shady

Well hello dear readership! Guess who's back! Back again! Yes, there's your Slim Shady/Eminem reference. It's likely the only one you'll see here.

Still, it fits. I have been gone, and gone too long. Now that statement reminds me of a wonderfully classic KISS song! No, not God Gave Rock n Roll To You, classic as that is. In it's own way. I mean the song 100, 000 Years. The first few lines perfectly fit, expletive included...

And now, on with the show da*n@t!!!. Say...that reminds me of a song on Motley Crue's first album...ah, enough already!

I am here, today, primarily, to say that I, the consummate bloggist, am back! The blog is back at least. I am still asleep for all practical purposes. And so, for every thing non-practical here goes. I want to announce my return, and a return to regular submissions on this here weblog of mine. I'm gonna let it shine! Sound like a song?

We all have songs, songs that describe nearly every situation this ole' life can throw our way. So today, know this: my song says that I am back and back with a vengeance--screaming for vengeance! (Judas Priest). And this time its personal. I'm all amped up. (Mom, that means 'excited'). Oh, how it feels like the first time. Foreigner. Good Foreigner, as in from the first, self-titled release back in 19 and 77.

Though my gift is my blog, and this one's for you!

Wow-w0w-we-wow! What a nice little hybrid between Reginald Dwight* and Budweiser. We continue...

I had hoped to come roaring back on Saint Patrick's Day. You know, because, like most people I know, I believe to have all that Irish blood coursing through my veins. Though I actually do! Maybe. I think. It's mostly a hunch. Many claim that my red hair is the proof of my Irish heritage. Though some claim that my hair is not red at all! Genomes and genealogies notwithstanding, I didn't make the 3-17-09 promise. I told myself that I would, and then I didn't. That's not procrastination, that's an early April Fool's on me. Got me!

Sad to say, today is a mixed bag of emotion. You see folks, though this is my triumphant return, over the course of composing this little piece I have decided to retire from the writing game. I frankly, unbelievably, have too much to do. This will be my last piece of blog.

And that it your little gift for this special, foolish, first day in April! Too much to do??? Please...

Actually, I do have a lot on my plate right now. Except breakfast, and I need some!

I will be reading, and writing, and teaching, and preaching, and sharing as much as I possibly can read, write, teach, preach, and share. My hope is to be as regular as a prune-eatin' puppy! I refer to my submissions. Submissions here, that is. My blog, that is.

So now friends, as the end draws near, until the next time as we continue to share our adventures in all words written, I leave you with best regards...and the chorus from the aforementioned Motley Crue masterpiece, On With the Show...

"on with the show, goin' on with the show,
come on baby, no, no, no!!!
ooh my, my, my,
my, my, my"

Genius. Pure. Genius. Now wipe those tear-stained eyes as you sit back in utter awe, inspired by that sublime work of art, and have a beautiful day. Write to you soon.

au revoir~
Matthew

*You may best recognize Reginald Dwight as Sir Elton Hercules John. Or something else even.

Next week..."A Thousand Words on Black Sabbath" or "The Pomposity of Ordering a 'Usual' at the Coffee Shoppe".

A New Day Dawned?

I hope everyone had the chance to watch our President's inauguration yesterday. And before any of you start, with all your "he ain't my president, I didn't vote for him!" and all the regular delusional denials, yes, he is your president. Just as W and all the Bushes, the lot of them, was your president and mine. Just as Clinton was your president...and mine. I support them all, in my love of our nation though I believe 100% of none of what they say and little of what they do! their too human I guess. Though we have one president. One at a time, that is.

And while radio hosts (yes, I fell off the wagon and listened to Rick n Bubba today, for a short while) are tending to focus on the trivial points of the speeches and music and appearances that they can hopefully turn from molehill to mountain, there was a lot more going on.

If you let your differences win the day, then I have sorrow for you. You missed something spectacular, and something that we may not see much in our future. Truth be told, I haven't seen it much in the past either.

I am not referring to the historical nature of B-rok being our first African-American (well, one-half so) president.

I am referring to the awesome sense of oneness, hope, promise, and truth I am beginning to feel. I sensed it in the presidential election, especially in the enthusiasm among the youngest, freshest, newest voters. I say it and heard it and straight-up felt it yesterday it the inauguration. I grooved on that there vibe (that sounds like Lowry)

I was a little annoyed at HBO's "We Are One" special with the 2000 most popular actors, writers, poets, directors, and singers, singers, and more singers. Mostly because the have shown it 203 times this past week.

U2 was awesome! The Boss was there, singing "This Land is Your Land, This Land is My Land" with, it looked like, the feller that wrote it. What could be better?

Crank up your what if machine and dream with me: what if we celebrated the new beginnings and potential of every president in like fashion. If we're going to live as one, then let's live as one! I could then stomach HBO's programming schema a bit better.

We must celebrate dissent! And we can start by allowing it. And then, we work it. Our differences can and should be out strength. There's a reason we all have different d.n.a. and it ain't just to find out if you are the true killer! (Just ask O.J. ...because he is still looking for the true killers. The man's committed, what can I say?)

back to the point...

People are starting to believe in America again. And you know what, it's Americans that are starting to believe in America again. It's not just because of who we put in the office of president, the lofty-titled "leader of the free world". It's more a feeling, a sense, a vibe.

For too long, too many people haven't cared about what others feel. Not what others think. Who cares about that? But what is it that we feel, and sense, and yes, even think collectively? That's what matters. And while I cannot put my finger on it just yet, I am feeling something new and good, feeling it down to my bones. And that's great right now, because my bones are cold!


It is remarkably good that the race battle lines has been beaten back, just a little bit more. And I am glad. I just love how it must be crawling all over Obama's detractors; even those who are among my closest friends from greater Mount Olive, Alabama: bastion of ground-breaking, intelligent, progressive thought, education and equality.

Its sad to say I was reminded just this weekend how alive and well those racial epithet remain. I can not tell f this is in spite of or because of our new accomplishments in showing just a hint of tolerance and equality. Though it matters not. Barack Hussein Obama is our president. A new day has dawned.

I am not a Democrat, nor even really the dreaded 'liberal'. Its funny and pathetic how people have come to hear and use that word as a insult. People use it to infer that one is crazy, or stupid. The word means 'generous'. Look it up. It's called a dictionary. And the fact that some professing Christians on the right say, and believe, that it is not possible for one to be a professing Christian and a Dem-o. Get real people. Watch out little iMac, my temperature's a risin'!

Though I am certainly not a Republican either, or the nearly as insulting 'conservative'. I would, however vote for 'Raw-hide Ronnie Reagan' 100 times in a row...though only if we stayed in the 80's. The Gipper did his part. That word originally meant 'careful'. It's not a bad word either.

In Massachusetts, I would be seen as some sort of "Evangelical, Religious Right Ultra -Conservative". For the record, from the past sentence, I would only use the word "right" to describe me currently, and not on the political line. Right as in just, I hope. I'm more into faith than religion, and I'm fine with my bosses in the religious establishment knowing that. I think they may already.

And in, say, Alabama, I would be described as a "tree hugging environmental-nut-job, crazy liberal that should move to California!" Environmental? Yes! Crazy? You betcha! California? Nah, more like Seattle. I don't know, you may prefer carbon dioxide to clean oxygen. I don't. You may want the polar ice caps to melt. I don't. Call me crazy--never mind, we already have!

I try to be a balanced person who seeks, works, and prays for the common good (or, as many people today call it, inaccurately, 'socialist'). I mean the common good that comes from everyone respecting and caring and standing up for everyone else. I call myself a 'card carrying moderate' who tried to think through one issue at a time, and live to destroy generalizations, stereotypes, and straight-ticket party voting! I am Wesleyan in my theology, or what I believe of and about God. That's a middle position, as in taking the best, most reasonable and rational from both poles. United Methodists are not Evangelical, in the sense of the term that people not involved in the Christian faith use it: like a political group. United Methodists are main-line Protestants. John Wesley practiced, and I try to practice, the 'via media'. Look that up. It's not in the dictionary.

This often makes me moderate or, centrist in my political stance. This often drives others crazy. The majority dismisses it as a cop-out, or an easy way out. Well, I am leery of cops and the middle is anything but easy. Just try it.

Well friendly readers, this latest entry seems to have shifted more to what I feel and believe and try to do. And that's...o.k. This has happened only because I am nothing short of inspired by the events or the last twenty-four to forty eight hours. The new day has dawned, and I have presented to you my new manifesto; the preface at least. I believe this to my core. This new truth can be self-evident, the best kind of truth. Let's not waste it, mmm-kay? Let's get at it! Today, we have our best shot in a long, long, time at becoming one world. Get it on.


For the record, I think Slash is just as African American as Obama. Though I am not expecting Slash to make a presidential run. I'd just settle for a new 'presidentially rocking' Guns n Roses album with the original line-up!


And by the way, if you still believe he (Obama or Slash) is Arabic or Muslim, and by the way, again, the two are not mutually inclusive, I have some beach property in...actually, I don't know what to do with you. I don't know what to say to you. Then again, if you believe these Muslim-captured White House conspiracies, you don't care much for truth and probably haven't read this far. I will pray for and with you, for and with me, for and with the Prez, and for and with the world. So, again get it on!

Farnsworth, We Hardly Knew Ye

Things are quiet around the Smith compound tonight. MA is asleep upstairs, the Golden Girls are with me submerged in my study. all of us, everything is...quiet.

and this is strange. of late, at least, this is strange.

no one hated silence, it seems, more than my little black friend, Farnsworth.
no, I'm not looking at skin-color again here. its fur color to which I refer.

Farnsworth was my little black puppy friend. he is gone to a new home. he has been gone for now one week. it has been a tough week.

the little guy ran in front of my car and into my life some 6 months ago. on Apple Grove Road, in the middle of nowhere, he jetted out from the mountainy roadside and got my attention, sure nuff!

my special little guy provided an additional, needed, male presence around the place. Trixie and Scarlett? both girls. of course, MA is all woman! and though one of our cats is technically 'male'...well, c'mon! its a cat! Little-Big-Man gave me another guy to pal around with and a man around the house when I was gone. one more vote for 'us guys'.

yes, that is quite lame. he is a dog, not a human. but I don't care. species be damned! I mean, you just had to know the pup and you'd understand.

Farnsworth kept my attention for the summer. and the fall. and I was, truth be told, hoping the rest of his little dog life. though it wouldnt have been fair to him, to Trixie and Scarlett or even to me and MA. it just wouldnt have been right. he needed a real home.

Trixie and Scarlett--two grown and nearly grown golden retreivers--keep us very busy. it takes a lot to care for dogs, that is, to care like one should care. we couldn't take on a third.

I believe I saved Farnsworth's life, and I believe he believed that.
and though I only brought him home to give him some water that day, I quickly loved Farnsworth enough to let him be ours until we found the right home. and we did. it was the right thing to do.

Zack, and seemingly very cool 8-year old young man, and his father Frank, and the mom of the family now have a new pet. a new family member, I hope (and bet!)
They had no dog, and they were looking. they were at the barber shop one day. I was at the same shop, the same day.

Frank and I later talked about coinsedence.
Frank said he doesnt like the word. I said I'm trying to rid it all-together. it was the right thing to do.

the little guy, 'strong like bull' though he be, came with us to Florida for the New Year celebration. it was great! MA's folks have a BIG back yard, fenced (well enough to trick Farnsworth, who is no dummy!). he ran to his and my heart was content. it was a beautiful sight. he barked at and chased the fireworks that ended 2008 and began 2009.

we strolled the beach together, just one day before he met his knew family.
for a season, I had a fearsome defender and constant companion: unusually smiling, many times peeing, always loving.

the term 'bitter sweet' it is pitiful excuse for the conflict of emotions this rough and tough, little , furry, black tornado has caused me. though a little painful, I'm glad to have them at the end of the day.

he is cared for, very well I hope and pray. and though Scarlett visibly looks for him, I have been able to hide it more. but I'm not as able to hide my tears for my friend who I may never see again, outside my memory and I pray, on God's Golden Shore. and I dont care about hiding the tears. its a good cry, in every sense. and I hope I always remember: it was the right thing to do.

adios amigo!

and goodnight to the rest of you.

MMS