Helping The Gene Pool ~ Early Evening Thoughts

I have to admit I've been watching a lot more "news" television than I should over the last several days. I've reached a stage of "You have GOT to be kidding me" over what the talking, frothing heads are choosing to be talking and frothing about. I really was needing something to make the day(s) better - something to offer some kind of hope.

Even though it's too early for the official "Darwin Awards" - they will come probably in January, there are some nominations that I thought I might share. The published purpose of the awards is stated quite simply:

The Darwin Awards salute the improvement of
the human genome by honoring those who
accidentally remove themselves from it...

These stories have been verified and are not urban legend. . . .

(July 16, 2008, Italy) Ivece Plattner, 68, was queued at a traffic light in his Porsche Cayenne sportscar. Before one reaches the light, there is a railroad crossing. As you might imagine, given Murphy's law, a train was coming.

The man did not let the queue progress forward far enough before he crossed the railroad. The safety bars came down, leaving the Porsche trapped on the rails. It took the driver awhile to realize he was stuck, according to witnesses. Finally, he jumped from the car and started to run -- toward the oncoming train, waving his arms in an attempt to save his car!

The attempt was successful. The car received less damage than its owner. He was pushed hard enough to land 30 meters away, and attempts to revive him were unsuccessful.

---

(8 March 2008, Czech Republic) Steel is valuable, especially the high grade alloy used in steel cable. Scrap metal dealers do not ask questions. They pay in cash. And a good supply of cables can be found in elevator shafts.

This particular goldmine was a towering shaft inside an empty grainery near Zatec, 40 miles northwest of Prague. The cable was tightly fastened, and the far end of it disappeared into the shadowy distance above.

After substantial wear and tear on a hacksaw, our man finally cut through the strong steel cable. At that instant, the counterbalance, no longer held in check, started to move silently downwards, accelerating until it reached the bottom of the shaft.

Result: one proud winner of a "terminal velocity" Darwin Award.

R.I.P.

---

The telephone company was replacing above-ground telephone lines with buried lines. In one sparsely populated farming area, if lines crossed a country road they would dig a trench halfway across, so rural traffic could continue through. Then they would fill in the trench, and dig a trench on the other side.

One morning, local farmers called the sheriff to report a smashed-up pickup. Inside were two ranch hands who were last seen the previous night, heading home after last call. You see...

On their way to the bars, the men had decided to play a prank. They stopped their pickup, and moved the flashing warning signs from the trenched side to the good side of the country road. Crime scene analysis later confirmed that they were the culprits who moved the flashing stands. Investigations also revealed that at the time of the accident, they were driving at an excessive speed with an impressive amount of alcohol in their systems.

No crime scene analysis is capable of determining whether the ranch hands forgot their prank, or chose to see what would happen if they hit that trench at a high rate of speed in the middle of the night.

No good prank goes unpunished.

---

Snowmobiles and alcohol are a dangerous mix. Then came the rabbit.

After a day spent partying and racing snowmobiles in the wilderness, a group of snowmobilers were headed back to their cabin, when up popped a jackrabbit! They gave chase. Several collisions were narrowly averted, and so all the snowmobiles backed off... except one.

This snowmobiler kept his eye on the quarry and rapidly closed in. The rabbit darted aside to save itself. The snowmobiler closed in again. The rabbit ran toward the road, where there was less snow. Trying to ram his rabbit before it crossed the road, the man accelerated to Mach 1.

But the rabbit had other ideas. It darted into the culvert beneath the road. Witnesses stated that the snowmobiler never even braked. There was a metallic crunch as the accelerating vehicle rammed into the culvert, followed by a blast that shattered the snowmobile into a thousand bits.

This brand of snowmobile had a fuel tank mounted in front. The culvert admitted the tip of the snowmobile, then cut into the cowling, spilling fuel over the hot engine. The body of the snowmobiler was blown twenty feet back into the field.

The rabbit's whereabouts was unknown.

---Rare Double Darwin!

Three hale and hearty young men had finished their basic training. Before heading out to their respective assignments, they decided to spend their few days of leave with one's grandmother, who lived in the town where they had completed basic training. The privates descended upon Grandmother, who filled them with home cooking and gave them soft beds to sleep in. Grandmother had a swing job to make ends meet, so the privates were left alone late into the night.

How could they repay her for her kindness?

Grandmother had three children. To commemorate the birth of each child, a pine tree had been planted in the front yard. In the fifty years since the last tree was planted, the pines had grown considerably, and the middle tree now blocked the view from the living room window. The privates decided that they would cut down that tree, letting the sun and the view into the room.

A case of beer went into the planning.

To keep the 50-foot tree from crushing the house, the privates reasoned that they would tie a rope to the top of the tree and pull the rope away from the house as the tree was cut.

The middle pine tree, the doomed one, was slightly closer to the house than the other two. The privates climbed an end tree, wound a rope through its upper branches, and threw the rope to a private in the middle tree. He tied the rope around the trunk. By this device, they could pull the rope from the ground. The middle pine tree would fall away from the house, and the privates were also clear of the path of the falling tree.

Climbing a pine tree is very sappy work, and scrapes and gouges are infliced by the natural roughness of its bark. But the hale and hearty privates completed the preliminaries without complaint. The middle tree was lassoed and levered by the rope running through the end tree.

So far, so good.

Two privates were situated on the ground, each straining to pull the tree away from Grandmother's house. The third private revved his 20 HP chainsaw and started to cut. Lo and behold, the tree actually fell away from Grandmother's house! However...

The rope-pulling privates had wrapped the rope around their waists, not considering that the falling pine weighed several tons. As the middle pine tree fell, both privates were ripped off their feet and smashed through the branches of the end pine tree. At the height of their acceleration, they broke through the top branches of the tree, and were briefly airborne before being jerked toward the earth when the middle tree hit the ground. The privates entered into Darwin history, either on the way up through the branches or on the way down to the cold, hard ground.

The event spoke for itself.

---

Somehow not being able to get the garland hung outside today seems to pale in comparison.

Please Pass (Over) The Nuts ~ Late Morning Thoughts

Christian Hate And Christian Witchcraft

Christian Hate:
This week the Westboro Baptist Church (God Hates Everyone Except Us) founded by Fred Phelps (Godhatesfags.com) tried to go into Canada to hold a hate-filled protest at the funeral of the innocent man who was decapitated on a bus trip. Quoting from Paul Gackle,Winnipeg Free Press as published in the National Post:

"Residents rallied Thursday to protect the family of a young man murdered on a Greyhound bus last week from a posse of radical religious protesters planning to portray Tim McLean's death as God's wrath.

Earlier this week, the Westboro Baptist Church - an organization branded as a hate group and infamous for protesting the funerals of slain U.S. soldiers - announced they would picket Mr. McLean's funeral to let Canadians know that his decapitation was God's response to Canadian policies enabling abortion, homosexuality and adultery.

But Shirley Phelps-Roper, daughter of church's founder, Fred Phelps, said a small group of protesters was stopped at the Canada-U.S. border on Thursday afternoon.

"They won't let us in, but we have a group that will cross in another spot," she said. "They'll have to strip search everyone who crosses that border or they won't know who we are. They'll have to see the WBC (Westboro Baptist Church) tattoo on our butts."

The resistance to the planned funeral protest started on Facebook yesterday morning when Jim Cotton, a resident of Winnipeg Beach, launched a page asking city residents to help protect Mr. McLean's funeral. . .

. . . Mr. Cotton was outraged and asked Winnipeg Facebookers to circle around the seven picketers tomorrow and pray for Mr. McLean's family.

By mid-afternoon Thursday, Mr. Cotton's page had over 100 friends. Rodney Taylor, an Ottawa resident, found the page and pitched in.

Mr. Taylor phoned the Prime Minister's Office, Public Safety Minister Stockwell Day's office and border services, asking them to keep the Westboro group out of the country. He also created his own Facebook page urging other offended Canadians to follow his lead.

"These people are callous, vicious and shouldn't be let into our country," he said. "We have freedom of speech, but they are inciting hate."

Mr. Taylor's plan worked. Winnipeg NDP MP Pat Martin said his office was flooded with phone calls yesterday from angry Winnipeggers.

"These people [from Westboro] are almost as crazy as the murderer," he said. "If they are here to disrupt the social order, that constitutes grounds to deny them entry. There is no redeeming virtue in the message they are bringing."

According to Mr. Martin, Mr. Day's office sent an alert to border patrol to "look out" for people with signs and pamphlets that fit the hateful messages that the church promotes and to keep them out of the country.

"In the opinion of his office, coming up here with the message they're articulating constitutes hate speech," said Mr. Martin.

Members of the Kansas-based fundamentalist sect were already planning to picket in Canada prior to last week's bus slaying. The group was scheduled to protest in Toronto Thursday night at the opening of playwright Alistair Newton's "The Pastor Phelps Project: a fundamentalist cabaret", which satirizes their leader's fervent anti-gay stance. . .

. . .In 1999, the Canadian government said it was powerless to prevent Mr. Phelps from entering the country when he was planning a protest in Ottawa over a Supreme Court ruling extending rights to gays and lesbians.

At that time, the government said the minister could only make exceptions at the border to grant people entry who might otherwise be denied, not deny people entry who would normally be admitted. . .

. . .The Winnipeg Police Service said they were not planning to block the funeral protest if the group successfully crossed the border, but they were prepared to be on hand if necessary. "

This hate group was a no-show at the funeral ~ citing concerns for their safety - but in actuality they must have realized that they lost the opportunity for publicity as 250 Winnipeg residents were on hand to protect the funeral and the family.

What troubles me so much is that this group - while spewing hatred for everything and everyone that doesn't believe in them are now trying to export this brand of hatred. Adding insult to injury, they are also spewing in the name of God, that God has already decided who is going to Heaven and who is going to Hell, so it makes no difference what you do - (unless you're a Westboro church member - which automatically grants you access through the Golden Gates). I'm not going to get into the murky waters of predestination and/or pre-ordination. But rather the manner they are going about it.

The church itself (as a non-profit organization) is supported by the donations of its members and those who share their perverted view of God's law and God's attributes. And without publicity, their donations would, in fact, start to dry up. Trained as a lawyer, Fred Phelps was disbarred in 1979 by the Kansas Supreme Court, which asserted that he had “little regard for the ethics of his profession.” Which says a lot to me.

Once a group moves from sharing what they believe and trying to beat people into submission of ONLY what they believe ~ they have moved into being a cult, not a belief. But to this group of hate-mongers it makes no difference. They have become publicity whores and donation driven. How else could he and his family afford all these trips to perform at "20,000 protests" (their claim) and put fairly well done videos on the web? Being non-profit gives them incredible tax advantages which helps fund their activities.

But here's what troubles me the most. What is it within people that makes them believe in this kind of activity and speech? Is it within each of us to fall into this kind of trap? Is there something within me that festers and decays that would allow me to live in that kind of hate and fear? That's the troublesome question. I have some very strong held beliefs, could those turn into a driving force pushing me "over the edge?"

--thus endeth part one of today's meditation

THINK!!! ~ Some Mid-afternoon Silliness

I don't very often post videos on my blog, but after I cleaned up the coffee I spewed and dropped on my computer keyboard ... I just couldn't resist!!

And I refuse to be responsible if you get offended ...

SOMWPP (Part 2) ~ Late Night Thoughts

As I mentioned last night, a new member has joined the household. As tomorrow is going to be a very busy day, I am going to do a short post tonight, and make up for that tomorrow. And I PROMISE that the following not become a regular ~ "let me tell you about my dog..." posting. There is a lot going on in my life that I want to share ~ he just happens to be immediate (and somewhat demanding of attention! ~ not taking after me, of course!).


I would like you to meet "Bonzai" . . . the spelling is deliberate. He is 12 weeks old and about three pounds. His full weight will probably be a whopping four pounds (possibly dripping wet). When I went to meet him, we almost didn't even go in - I'll save that for a later post. When I went inside and finally met him, I realized that he had never been out of the "pen" (inside thank heavens) he shared with other dogs, never been on the floor, never been outside and never had a collar on. Oh yes, he was also covered with fleas, flea dirt and matted hair. The most interesting thing about him ~ he is litter box trained. If I get a cat that should be interesting!!


When we went to one of the pet superstores to pick up a "few" items he was going to need, I handed him over to get groomed. He did very well - but I can only imagine the confusion going on in his mind.

He was very good -- and was on the inside of my "hoody" with the zipper about 1/2 way down. His head would appear over the top when interested, and disappear when it was all too much.

Having him is much the same as watching a child (I'm thinking of my granddaughter who is holding him in the picture) discover the world around them. He's discovered that cement is very cold, somethings just don't taste good at all and that it's a big very LARGE world out there.

But then if you've been reading my posts about looking back to look forward ... so have I.

SOMWPP ~ Late Eveing Thoughts

A new arrival joined my house collection this evening ... hence the title of this post (**you will have to read through the post for the definition**)

I was given these sayings today and wanted to share them with you ~

Things Dogs Must Try To Remember . . .

I will not play tug-of-war with Dad's underwear when he's on the toilet.

The garbage collector is NOT stealing our stuff.

I do not need to suddenly stand straight up

when I'm lying under the coffee table.

I will not roll my toys behind the fridge.

I must shake the rainwater out of my fur BEFORE entering the house.

I will not eat the cat's food, before or after they eat it.

I will stop trying to find the few remaining pieces

of clean carpet in the house when I am about to throw up.

I will not throw up in the car.

I will not roil on dead seagulls, fish, crabs, etc.

"litter box crunchies" are not food.

I will not eat any more socks and then

redeposit them in the backyard after processing.

The diaper pail in not a cookie jar.

I will not wake Mommy up by

sticking my cold, wet nose up her bottom end.

I will not chew my human's toothbrush and not tell them.

I will not chew crayons or pens, especially not the red ones,

or my people will think I am hemorrhaging.

When in the car, I will not insist on having the window rolled down

when it is raining outside.

We do not have a doorbell. I will not bark each time I hear one on TV.

I will not steal my Mom's underwear and

dance all over the backyard with it.

(**SOMWPP ~ silly older man with pampered pooch**)

The sofa is not a face towel. Neither are Mom and Dad's laps.

My head does not belong in the refrigerator.

I will not bite the officer's hand when

he reaches in for Dad's driver's license and car registration.

---more tomorrow

O O P P S S ! ~ Late Afternoon Thoughts

I meant to add this to last night's post. When I flew up to Montana to speak at my Mother's memorial service as I was preparing my remarks, I found this saying conveniently attached to the candy jar. As a matter of fact, it fell off as I walked by ...

Life is a journey not for us to be lowered into the grave all pretty and looking rested. It is a journey for us to slide into the grave broadside ~ banged up, used up but still proclaiming (shouting?) ~

Wow!!! What a ride...WOW!!! What a RIDE!!!

---more later

At Long Last ~ Grateful Thoughts

Starting next week ... I guess this week actually... I will have access to a computer with internet. It's part of a new venture I am beginning. I know that many of you have had questions about what's been going on, and I intend to answer as many of the questions as possible. For those who've commented and sent emails I thank you!

It's been an interesting journey over the last couple of months. And I also am grateful to everyone for their patience as I literally have put my life back together!!!

Look back in the next couple of days!!!!!

Something Borrowed ~ Very Early Evening Thoughts

Forgive my silence over the last couple of days, but things have gotten a little out of hand over the last 72 hours. While not completely in a bad sense ... just in an exhausting sense. Of course, there will be some stories to tell about what happened, but for tonight ... I'm going to borrow from an article that really meant something to me the other day:

The Facebooking of America by Suzanne Fields:

Every generation is sure that its social and cultural trends are here to stay. When history moved slowly before the dawn of the electronic media, it might have seemed so. But with instant communication through cell phones, fax machines, e-mail and Internet meeting places, such as Facebook and YouTube, cultural trends accelerate dramatically. The future as imagined by Generations X, Y or Z is easily blown away by the high velocity winds of change.

You can read the entire article --->here<--- ~ I would have reprinted the article, but I couldn't get permission. I think you will enjoy it as much as I did being of ...ahem.... a certain age.


---more complex tales and thoughts tomorrow

Article trackback link: http://rss.townhall.com/trackback/www/f38cf657-27f9-4df0-9263-e5b4d12fb3ae/

Aging Rambo (Complex Tales) ~ Early Evening Thoughts

As much as I enjoy getting out and doing ~ sometimes, with my knees it can turn into an adventure. I usually in the grocery store get one of those electric carts and enjoy terrorizing doing the aisles and getting what I need. I even use them at what are called the "box stores"...large over filled and over crowded stores with the very recognizable name(s).

The other day I went on a new adventure ~ a home improvement box store. I decided upfront that I would use the electric cart and enjoy the ride. The person I was shopping with decided that my cart would be an excellent repository for various items being purchased for our two complexes.

The screwdrivers, drill bits and such I didn't mind. However, the sections of wood began to present a bit of a problem ...and then there was the boiler pipe. A nice, round L O N G piece of pipe. I had that balanced on one shoulder, and had some ability to steer with the other hand. I'm sure it was quite a sight.

Then, I saw him ~ the "kid." You know the ones in the store - totally bored, trying to stay out of trouble, but looking for something/anything to liven up the day.

Then, he saw me. The one with the large metal pipe leaning on his shoulder, in a cart that could only move at a certain speed.

The following account is absolutely true. (thank heavens there were no video cameras!)

Our eyes met and there was an instantaneous silent agreement. There was a slight nod from him, and a narrowing of the eyes from me. I moved my cart into position.

He ducked behind a handy display ~ but I was ready.

I raised the boiler vent pipe to shoulder level and waited. There were two sales people that stopped, turned and looked. I waited . . . A pair of eyes took a quick glance from behind the display and then he made a run for it.

I didn't do anything, the timing wasn't just right. Again, he took a quick glance and made a mad dash for the hand tools section. I fired (loudly, I might add) ...once then once again ... each time taking careful aim with my rocket launcher. He took a direct hit from the second shot...and fell gloriously, noisily and with great dramatic effect in the middle of the floor.

At this point (to quote someone) the parental unit attached entered the picture. I think he would have liked to be upset, but with several sales people and customers laughing and his child unit dusting himself off ...it would have been very hard to be upset.

Understand that during this entire time not one word had been exchanged. I took a last look at him, smiled ...blew on my fingernails and dusted them on my shirt. He gave me an enormous grin and a thumbs up sign.

I went on my electrified way to find the friend I was shopping with, he went with the parental unit to check out and everyone went back to doing what they had been doing before all this happened. I certainly felt better - I hoped that he felt better about the day. My friend, totally oblivious that a major motion picture scene had just been filmed, apologized for taking so long to find something.

The Moment Of Non-Truth ~ Early Evening Thoughts

Once again, I was awake much earlier than I wanted to be. It fascinates me how in the early morning hours things that should not be a problem become magnified many times more than they are worth.

This is not to say that problems don't need solving, but in the moments between night and dawn ~ what should not be that big a problem looms larger and more oppressive then a couple of hours later when the sun illuminates the day ~ what seemed so large is revealed at its correct size. A size that is something that can be handled, dealt with or simply dismissed as not important.

I found this morning that my breathing changed (not for the better) and my mind became completely over-active with concerns that hadn't even made themselves evident in reality.

Being honest, it was nothing more than unsubstantiated fear. The kind of fear that creeps in on soft feet, and tries to take over the mind...which then translates into reactions of the body...the heart, breathing and even the skin temperature.

I would like to say that it's easy to say: "Begone!" But we know such is not the case. Sometimes, I literally have to get up and deal with each phantom individually~ individually, and firmly.

Perhaps you don't have these night-time holograms ~ if so, be very thankful. To those, such as myself, who do ~ I offer these quotes:

I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain.
--Frank Herbert, Dune - (Bene Gesserit Litany Against Fear)

Fear makes the wolf bigger than he is.
-- German Proverb

Fear is a tyrant and a despot, more terrible than the rack, more potent than the snake.
--Edgar Wallace - The Clue of the Twisted Candle (1916)

Fear is only as deep as the mind allows.
--Japanese Proverb

Never be afraid to try something new. Remember, amateurs built the ark, professionals built the Titanic.
--Unknown

You gain strength, courage and confidence by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face. You are able to say to yourself, 'I have lived through this horror. I can take the next thing that comes along.' You must do the thing you think you cannot do.
--Eleanor Roosevelt

To fear is one thing. To let fear grab you by the tail and swing you around is another.
--Katherine Paterson

No matter how hard you work for success if your thought is saturated with the fear of failure, it will kill your efforts, neutralize your endeavors and make success impossible.
--Bandjuin

Fear defeats more people than any other one thing in the world.
--Ralph Waldo Emerson

If I can endure for this minute whatever is happening to me No matter how heavy my heart is or how dark the moment might be... If I can but keep on believing what I know in my heart to be true, That darkness will fade with morning and that this will pass away, too... Then nothing can ever disturb me or fill me with uncertain fear, For as sure as night brings dawning, my morning is bound to appear...
--Unknown

Don’t be afraid of fear
Because fear is afraid of itself
You give into fear when you doubt yourself
Fear makes you a complete opposite of yourself
Draining every bit of confidence your body has left
Fear tricks you of your potential
Wiping away your credentials
A life ruled by fear is life without hope
Of course people are going to have raining days
But with fear, everyday you will have your droughts

Be confident and put your head up high
How can fear overtake you when you’re looking at the
Beautiful clouds high in the sky
--Rico Graham

Happy Birthday Warren!!! ~ Early Evening Thoughts

If you've been around me for any length of time, you know that I believe in love. Love that trancends orientation, age, looks and what other people think. It must come from the depth of love my parents had for each other ~ and somehow, that was just wired into me.

One of the blogs I read each day is --->Our View On Superior<--. I've enjoyed it from the first read. Here are two people that are deeply in love, work at their relationship and totally enjoy each other.

As I said it's something that transcends orientation...it is that kind of love that is deep, powerful and something to be honored and cherished. Today was Warren's ...ahem...uh...birthday and a milestone birthday it is as well. I wondered what he would have to say about it. I was sure it would be moving and profound, and he didn't let me down. Let me rip quote from today's posting. Drop by his blog and wish him well, if you want, I know he would appreciate it.

To quote:

-It's my birthday and the love of my man is the best present I could
ever have!

-Yes it was on this date...a number of years ago that my mom and dad gave birth to me - right here in Minnesota. My dad had just returned from World War II after having served over seas.

My mom and dad actually met just prior to the war starting and had gotten married before he left for the military service.

I suppose being gone for five and one-half years - he was ready to come home and see my mom. Many children were born that same year - we eventually became known as "baby boomers".

Probably should have been called "baby exploders" because kids were coming out at a rapid pace that year. It was 1946.

Life these years has been very good to me ... I've gotten a
good education, had only two jobs in my entire life, and lived very happily. I'm not a rich man, I'm not a poor man - but I've always been fairly comfortable - having what I needed in life and never to the excess.

I think that is perhaps the best life you can have. I find poor people however are happy in many ways, while those who are rich never truly seem happy and always want more - sad to say.

My parents died at a relatively early age and I was an only child. My mom passed away when I was 18 and my dad died when I was 31 years of age. So - I've basically lived alone my entire life. I realized I was "unique" and finally knew I liked guys when I was 13 or 14 years of age...but I didn't know why.

However; living in Minnesota I never came out - never told my family or anyone I associated with. I would have been shoved back into the closet so fast, it would have made you head spin. Back in the 50s, 60s, 70s, 80s and 90s, before I met Steve -people hated gay men.

Why would I want to bring hatred upon myself by announcing to the world "I'm gay"? There was no sense in doing that - so I just kept my mouth closed and enjoyed life as much as I could. I spent a lot of time looking at those guys in the Wards and Sears catalogs - who wore underwear! LOL! I thought they were cute.

To me they were the next best thing to having a guy. Well, after all - who knew who was gay back then?

I really never met many guys in my life - for fear of being found out and then be put up on a chopping block for society to cut away at me - because I lived in a small town area people would talk and I feared that. I sure as heck didn't want that - so I was very careful not to be actively seeking anyone.

I finished high school, went onto college and got my degree and
then found the two and only two jobs that I ever had. Both jobs have been good to me, both employers wonderful - providing me with a good salary, vacation, sick leave and health care benefits - what more could a guy need in life?

When I was about 23 or so, I accepted Jesus Christ into my life as my
Lord - and I've served Him ever since - knowing full well that God allowed me to be who I was - a gay man. I didn't really realize I was 100% gay until - I just figured it out one day. Seems dumb I know, but hey back in those days - if you liked guys it was not a good thing. Today, things are getting better and society is more accepting.

What did I need in life? Answer: A man!

Why was I gay? Why was I unique? In 1999, being a Christian - I set out for several months on an educational trip to explore the subject of being gay and what I was and why I was who I was. I read books and internet article and my Bible and anything I could get my hands on.

Conclusions from my 6 month study:

I was gay because the feelings I had came with me, right from my
mother's womb.

I was gay, because God created me as He wanted me to be.

I was gay and I was a born again Christian worshiping in an
Assemblies of God denomination. I was ok.

It was not wrong to be who God created me to be.

I could live just like anyone else, and still be gay.

Homosexuality is not a learned behavior. I learned that my sexual
orientation was inherited; and I was just plain wired that way.

Certainly some people will experiment with a gay lifestyle, and a gay person might experiment with a heterosexual one. If I was really gay, I'd find a place in life and in my community to be who I was.

The important thing is that people just love me through my life. What difference does it make if I am gay? I realized that people (everyone) needed to accept me, support me and not be judgmental toward me.

In the last week May of 1999, I put an ad on Yahoo Personals for the Duluth, Minnesota region - looking for a younger man and looking for love.

Well almost two weeks went by, and a couple people answered the ad - but they were only looking for sex - and I wanted a love relationship that lasted. My Yahoo User Name was "niceguyduluth". Why? Simply because I was a nice guy.

On June 12th, 1999 about 6:30 p.m. I was checking my Yahoo email - and low and behold - there was an email from a young guy in central Minnesota. He described himself as being blond, he was about 6 feet tall, 190 pounds, goatee, blue eyes and he was 26 years old. I thought to myself (1) can this be true and (2) could this work out, after all he was 150 + miles away from me - and long distance relationships don't work at all or not very well.

He was a gift from God to me!

Wow ... I was excited! We conversed back and forth via email and later that evening I told him to install Yahoo Messenger so we could chat - and believe me, we did chat for a whole week - solid. Morning, noon and night!

We set up a date for the following Friday, June 18th - I would drive to his home town and meet him and together we would go for the weekend to St. Cloud, Minnesota.

I arrived at his home that following Friday at 10:00 a.m. right on the dot. He was inside, wearing a pair of crutches - because he had dislocated a bone in his foot the previous Sunday while playing softball.

There he was...blue jean shorts, navy blue pull over shirt, blond hair
and big blue eyes - oh my gosh he was cute!!!

Well ... the rest is history ... we dated that weekend, and we fell in love immediately - then we dated for five more weekends - and on or about the six weekend - his vehicle arrived in front of my place with a big trailer loaded with all his furniture and belongings - and it's been the best 8 1/2 years of my life!

Steve was God's gift to me on that 1999 birthday, and he is still God's gift to me on this 2007 birthday.

So today, I'm 61 - but I feel like I'm 49 and I'll never change that. Jack Benny was 39 his whole life so 49 - hey that works for me.

Age is just a number, so I am told. If you don't mind, it doesn't
matter - and I don't mind my age at all. Birthdays come and go far to quickly - life is beautiful but it passes far faster than we can all imagine.

My final thought for the day is simply this:
Live life and enjoy every single moment you have. The possibilities for joy and fulfillment are all around you. Jump in right now and explore them fully - because that's what life is all about. I'm so glad today that I jumped into life in June of 1999 and became the man God wanted me to be with my partner Steve.

Steve was then and is now my birthday gift from God.

He's cute, he's hot and he's mine.

Happy birthday to me!

Happy Happy Birthday Warren!!!

--more complex tales tomorrow

Potporroui ~ Early Evening Thoughts

Tomorrow I promise to tell several of the "complex stories," including the almost indestructible lock story. But for tonight ~ a couple of items:

First of all ~ One of the bright lights of the performing world is (at last report) gravely ill with cancer. Beverly Sills (AKA Bubbles - her childhood nickname), conquered the opera world opera house by opera house. It's ironic that she didn't perform at the Metropolitan Opera House until shortly before her retirement. She was an amazing performer, but more important she was a wonderful person as well. When she retired from singing she became a force for all the performing arts. She was heavily involved with the New York City Opera and the Met, but she also championed all the arts.

One story concerns her debut performance at one of the most legendary opera houses in the world ~ La Scala. The performance venue was known for "diva" behavior by its stars and those who performed. As a matter of fact it was expected. There is probably no person less like a diva than Ms. Sills.

As the story goes - there was a problem with one of her costumes ~ as in ugly, didn't fit, etc. She made several attempts to work with the costumer to no avail. At this point, evidently, a hush fell over the rehearsal as people watched to see what she would do - and establish herself as a true diva.

In typical Beverly Sills fashion, she took the costumer's scissors and proceeded ~ without a word ~ to cut the dress into shreds. She then handed the scissors back to the costumer and hung up the costume on the rack. Still without a word, she restarted rehearsal. Legend has it that there was applause from cast and crew - and she cemented her place as a La Scala Diva.

My thoughts and prayers are with her ... and here is a performance from 1976 - singing Una Voce Poco Fa!!



Oh, and there was nothing "stuffy" about her either ~ here she performs with Danny Kaye and managed to completely "break him up" at one point:



She also performed with Carol Burnett as well as the Muppets. I couldn't find a clip of her duet with Carol Burnett, but I did find this Muppet show clip (it's not in English ~ so the speaking (not singing)is dubbed.

__________________________
__________________________

I really should save this for an afternoon -- but it's just too funny to pass up. This really is a Late Evening Time Waster and I'm not responsible for lost sleep as you continue to --->press the button<---- ~over and over and over .... (thanks to the thinking blog)

And with that - the almost last doses of medicine have "wiped me out" ...

---More tomorrow

And Your Little Dog Too! ~ Early Morning Thoughts

One of my daily read favorite blogs is called "Don't MAKE Me Get My Flying Monkeys!" I have to admit that the very first time I saw the title, I had to repress an enormous urge to shout: "I'll get you and your little dog too!!!" As I have followed the blog over time, I have have found out just what a delightful person Laurie is and those connected to her as well.

Laurie ~ you have kept all of us so updated on your life, and then you began the series involving Dale and ALL that he has been going through in the hospital (to say nothing of your (1) hysterically (2) described (3) trip (4) - well, the drive (5) anyway - to get there). While convincing me all the more, that a hospital is not exactly the place to get well ... at least Dale has been surrounded by love, care, concern, hope and a decided lack of fear. (If anyone hasn't read it - now would be a good time to click on the link above ~ or the one -->RIGHT HERE<-- )

Now, you are faced with the wrenching problem of having to leave for a time.

As much as I hate to leave Dale in this condition, I have work duties that have to be taken care of. Making the decision to go is one of the hardest things I've ever had to do. I don't see any way out of it and it is breaking my heart.

I know just how difficult that decision has been and is for you. There is such a sense of feeling that you will not be there -- and not be there for Dale. However (comma) I want you to assure Dale:

I may not be physically present,
but my spirit remain.
My hope
is ringing
the hospital bed
on which
you
lie.

I may not be physically present,
but my concern
and love remain.
That love
has seeped
into the walls
around
the hospital bed
on which
you
lie.


I may not be physically present,
but my thoughts
and belief remain.
They will shine
from the corners above
the hospital bed
on which
you
lie.

I may not be physically present,
but I will see you
at every turn,
I will see you
in a stranger's smile,
a word of greeting,
a moment of silence.
I will hear your voice
as I look out over
the valley,
as the cats play
terminator with
their cat pole,
and
as the wind comes across
my face
in the mornings.

No, I may not be
physically present ~
but I'll be (insert favorite "cuss" here)>)
if you're going to
be
rid
of
me ~ yet!
---wd

(An aside to Wolf:)

As you know, I play a character on World of Warcraft ... allow him to imbue your armor with +25 stamina, your chest plate with +16 Int, +5 Crit. I'm going to add +22 healing to your armbands and +16 healing to your ring of defense. Go forth young Warrior!!

--picture of the flying monkey was labeled as a Mattel toy. I'm sorry I don't know the date of manufacture.
--seeping light picture from www.theleggett.com/index.php?tag=art

Carousel Of Life ~ Early Morning Thoughts

I'm continually amazed at what can come my way at a time when I need it most. As I was pulling together a business idea today, I came across this wonderful story - with a wonderful depth of meaning and hope...but above all hope.

The Carousel Horse

It's been so long now; it's really hard to remember or maybe it's because of the way I feel or have always felt. when was I born? I could say when they carved me I guess or when they finished painting me, or when I was mounted on the carousel. But if I'm really honest about my feeling I'd have to go back even further, to when I was a part of a beautiful tree in the Black Forest. Oh so long ago. I have fond memories of my growing years. I learned to deal with the elements that are. I learned patience and I learned that you can be taken away from everything that you love and know, and be put into, oh such totally different circumstances and still live. Why even thrive. Yes, it's been a good life. I wouldn't say easy, but well on to my tale.

I'm proud of the way I look and I must say my life before I was injured was full of compliments. Even when I was being carved, the expert woodsman remarked on my quality. "Now this is what I call a perfect piece of oak." Yes, I remember it so well. The man who carved me was quite old. His hands were rough but I didn't mind because he touched me so lovingly. He was constantly caressing me as he sought out the perfect horse that was captured inside.

He worked slowly, puffing on his old pipe. The smell was delicious. I can still smell it, even now. It kinda permeated my whole being as he carved and puffed for all those months. "Say, now that's a pretty one, Joseph." the man stood, hands on his hips, and scrutinized me closely. "I like the lift of the head and the way you've raised her front foot in the air. She's a real beauty." Joseph puffed on his pipe and looked at me as he ran his gnarled hands over my now almost completed surface. "Yes, this one's special", he mused. I was so proud.

Joseph's wife was to paint me. I liked her. She would come into the studio always wit a a smile and a jolly laugh. "Oh, now that's real nice, Joseph. I love her big thick mane and her wonderful tail. I like the way it lifts and curls. Why Joseph, she's just beautiful." She always smelled like fresh baked bread and she always made Joseph happy. When she'd leave him he'd hum away and I could feel a kind of new energy through his hands.

When it came time for me to be painted I couldn't help being excited and could hardly wait to find out what color I would be. White, black, chestnut, it was all I thought about for days. They chose golden palomino with a glorious antique white mane and tail. My saddle was burgundy with gold trim, and the draperies that graced my sides were rose and cream with dark green trim. I looked wonderful.

I was installed on the carousel in early spring. It was all new and boasted rabbits and pigs and birds along with its many horses. I think it's only fair to say though, that, well I could hold my own. The children flocked to me. Even grown ups. I remember once a man lifted this pretty girl up on my saddle and as the music played and I moved rhythmically up and down as we turned, he proposed. she said yes. But ah, it was the children, the wide-eyed, happy boys and girls who wrapped their arms around me like they would never let go. I carried them gently up and down as we moved along the crescendo of sound and lights.

As the years moved by I began to feel my age. My paint was cracking here and there and finally I got pretty crackled all over. I had dried out some and there were even hairline cracks in my wood. Who'd of ever thought it. The carousel was getting older too and it creaked a bit and groaned at times but we all kept going rain or shine and the kids kept coming. I wasn't getting the compliments I got when I was young but I knew they enjoyed me and that was the most important thing. Then one day the engine quit. The children were very disappointed. I remember the little boy on me kept kicking me and beating me with his fists. I was more hurt than hurt, if you know what I mean. This engine trouble became pretty regular, then the trouble with the gears or something. Then it was just trouble, trouble and pretty soon the kids didn't come anymore. I felt terrible but that was just the beginning. they took us apart and discarded us like old worthless junk.

I was thrown , yes thrown, they broke my neck, into an old dark warehouse. I laid there for years in the dark and the roof leaked. The rain would drip down from the high, dark ceiling and run in cold rivulets over my exposed side. It was awful. My paint, well, let's not even talk about it. I was a mess. Then one day they opened the warehouse doors and started looking through the piles left from so long ago. They laid all the carousel horses in one place and they looked us over. They inspected me. "Might as well burn this one. I think it's hopeless. Look, it's neck is even broken." a young man looked down at me. He touched my neck. Oh, it felt good. It had been so long. He ran his fingers over the cracked neck. His companion shook his head. "forget it. Come on let's check out the rest." He left.

They spent about a week selecting the chosen ones and they put me in a heap, and not too gently, with the other rejects. I heard what they were planning for us. They said old oak made a great fire. I just couldn't believe what was happening to me.

Then they drove the truck into the warehouse. It was one of those cold, wet mornings. The sky was dark and I felt a chill run through me. They started throwing, yes throwing, us into the back of the truck...then the young man walked in. He walked over to me just as they were grabbing me by the tail. "Wait, I think I'll take this one home." "fine with me but I sure don't know why. It's a wreck." "I know, I know, but there's something about her." He reached down and picked me up and I fell in love. He carried me to his van and gently laid me down inside. I could have wept. He drove me to his home and took me inside. His wife opened the door. "Oh my, it looks like she's been through a lot." She touched me and I knew I was finally safe.

He worked on my neck. He sanded me and polished me and rubbed oil on me night after night. I was beginning to feel pretty good, and oh his pipe, I loved his pipe. It reminded me of, oh so long ago. Then it came time to paint me. I had heard them discussing it. They were going to paint me exactly like before when I was young. I was thrilled and what a job she did. She couldn't have been more careful. I knew she liked me.

They placed me by the window in a large kitchen and I look out over rolling hills of oak. The sunsets splash the last light of day on me every evening and I am content. She polishes me a lot and I'm constantly complimented. But Joe's my favorite. I mean, he saved my life but, I don't know, I just love him anyway. There's something about him.

His wife walked into the room. Joe was reading at the table smoking his pipe. She walked up behind him and ran her hand through his hair. The sun was setting and cast a golden light on the carousel horse. "I just love that horse" she said. He nodded, "Yes, I know. I've always wanted one. My grandfather used to carve them. Did I ever tell you that?"

---Tom Voiss
Quiet Moments
painting of horse by Nancy Glazier

The Wonder Of It All ~ Early Morning Thoughts

I had been "doing" today, and when I got home there were still things I needed to be "doing." Finally, there was time to sit and contemplate. All that I could accomplish (OK, read that as WOULD accomplish) had either been done or passed onto that list of to do later. I was looking up something on-line, and instead found an amazing article titled "A Wonder-full Life" by Juan De Pascuale: (edited/abbreviated, full link below)

All of us are a little like Gulliver in Jonathan Swift's masterpiece Gulliver's Travels-- sailing the sea of time in our fragile bodies, repeatedly finding ourselves shipwrecked on our voyage to the Unknown. In this parable of the human condition, Gulliver's accidental voyages take him to strange worlds inhabited by odd creatures. Perhaps most bizarre is Laputa, the island world that floats like a Zeppelin in the sky high above the ground.

The Laputans who inhabit this island have one eye permanently turned inward as though in literal introspection, while the other is turned upward as though in permanent contemplation of the stars. They worship the abstract sciences and have a passion for theoretical reflection; they are devoted to the study of mathematics, music theory and astronomy.

(additional note:The population of the island mainly consisted of educated people, who are fond of mathematics, astronomy, music and technology, but fail to make practical use of their knowledge (the rest are their servants). They had mastered magnetic levitation and discovered the two moons of Mars, but couldn't construct well-designed clothing or buildings - reason for this being that measurements are taken with instruments such as quadrants and a compass rather than with tapes.)

The cerebral Laputans are masters of a wide array of esoteric arts and sciences that gives them the ability to control the land below and hold subject the ordinary earthly citizens. However, they have difficulty in social situations. When they go out into society, they must be accompanied by a servant carrying a stick to bash the Laputans on the head so that they don't drift off into flights of absentminded speculation, ignoring the person in front of them.

What is truly astonishing, however, is not the mystery of life, that some things move and other things don't, that in every life's voyage there are shipwrecks, that you never know what tomorrow will bring ...
These mysteries are merely the tip of the metaphysical iceberg hiding beneath our everyday concerns. What is truly amazing is the fact that there is anything at all.

Being itself -- to be! -- is the most uncanny datum of our experience, and yet it simply stands for everything. It is this very act of writing, the air we breathe, the space we move through and this time that we are sharing. It is here, there, all around us, between us, it is us. It is now. From... to the thoughts in your mind, to the most distant galaxy: All this, the world itself, is, and it is wondrous that it is. And yet we tend to lose sight of the wonder of it all in the midst of it all.

It is our capacity to wonder at the mystery of being that makes us human and separates us from the rest of creation. To wonder about being is like having the top of your head removed and feeling with your naked brain the icy cool presence and unfathomableness of everything.

When you fall into wonder only one sentence forms on your lips: Why is there anything at all and not, rather, nothing? I am not seeking a "cause" or a general explanation of what is, which might or might not be provided by philosophy, religion or science. I am, rather, acknowledging a deepening experience of everything around me. Prior to the experience of wonder, I now realize, I took the full weight of existence for granted, as most people do most of the time.

You cannot, however, deliberately choose to wonder. You can only ready yourself for it. Wonder always happens as though from the outside in. One slides into wonder, is surprised by wonder, is overtaken by wonder; but one cannot will to wonder. And all of this happens under the most ordinary of circumstances. Maybe it has already happened to you. Maybe you have already fallen into wonder. Or maybe you have been touched by wonder but turned away.

Maybe you have had the experience, as I have, of awakening in your familiar bed only to find it inexplicably alien, and not because of what you drank or took the night before. A morning when, for reasons unknown, you woke up before the alarm rang and, somewhere between a dream state and clearly felt reality, found yourself bathed in astonishment at your mere being. At the fact that you are at all, let alone here, now, in this particular place at this particular time in this familiar yet so strange bed of yours. A moment when everything you cast your eyes upon-- your shoes on the floor, the plant on the windowsill, the pile of books on the desk -- fills you with a mixture of awe and anxiety as you let yourself admit to yourself that the mystery of life, of being itself, is so overwhelmingly shocking that it leaves you powerless and speechless.

Many of us, however, have had ...moments of realization of what it is and means to be. If you have, then you know that no amount of description can capture the actually lived felt-sense of being in awe of being. You also know with certainty that it changes you forever. You know that you have rubbed up against the very edge. There is nothing that could be further or deeper.

No one knows what being is or why it is. Not Plato or Aristotle or the Buddha or Einstein. There is no knowing the what or the why of what is. There is only the understanding of life that is acquired through the asking in the state of wonder. But that's enough. And it better well be because that's all there is for us mere mortals.

The experience of wonder brings the world into relief and makes a person take life seriously. In wonder you realize that this is it. You have the opportunity to swim through the river of life rather than just float on it, to own your life rather than be owned by life. If attended to, the experience of wonder gives birth to self-examination and to a mindful awareness of the world. In time you come to know yourself as you have been and are -- and this gives you the possibility of choosing how to be. Through the experience of wonder we become true individuals and true citizens of the universe.

Most people, however, live out their lives unaware of the mystery of existence. Everyday routines of work and entertainment keep them from seeing the world and themselves in the light of wonder. They drift quietly through life like the autumn leaves that float on the surface of a river, barely noticing that they are adrift even as their place in the river of time empties into the ocean of death. This is the most common kind of life, literature and art tell us. It's the life of Tolstoy's Ivan Ilych, Arthur Miller's Willy Lohman, W.H. Auden's Unknown Citizen and Kierkegaard's aesthete. The average life of the average person seeks to become just that, average -- to be "just like everyone else."

But why do people drift through life like dead leaves? The answer is simple: Drifting is easy and has obvious advantages visible to everyone, while the advantages of letting wonder teach you to swim through life are known only to those who actually do it. Yes, drifting can lead to worldly success, but it can cost you the only thing in life that you can truly call your own -- your self. And therein lies the tragedy.

What good is it to know the world but not to know yourself -- to be the scientist who succeeds in mapping the 30,000 genes of the human genetic code and thereby hold the biological secrets of all of mankind in the palm of your hand, but not to know the very person who holds this knowledge in his hand?

What good is it to find a high paying job, fit well into the community, be well-liked and thereby succeed in "living well" but, for a lack of time or attention, fail to succeed in dying well?

You cannot will yourself to wonder any more than you can will yourself to love, but you can prepare yourself for it just as you can for love. You can choose to move slowly through this fast life mindful of your experiences. You can strip down to your bare self and press up against what is.

That is where I want to be, how I want to be. To be completely open to wonder (remember child-like enthusiasm) and the sheer wonder and joy of living. However, I don't want someone to have to bash me in the head to bring me "back to earth."

-- from Notre Dame Magazine
Spring 2003 issue
www.nd.edu/~ndmag/sp2003/pascuale.html

--laputa picture from www.martiniere.com/imagepages/gulliver13.htm
--photo of ice ribbon by Andy Goldsworthy
www.arthistory.sbc.edu/artartists/photoandy.html
--picture 8 courtesy of "eternal"
www.sheezyart.com/view/1095036/
--boy on sidewalk - "Sidewalk Circus" by Paul Fleishman and Kevin Hawkes