Small Grapefruit… September 30, 2013

Jonathots Daily Blog

(2021)

I don’t think they know.

Matter of fact, I’m pretty sure of it. I don’t really WANT them to be aware because it’s a decision of my own.

When you’re traveling on the road with two other people, it’s important to have single-mindedness, but it’s also essential to make your own personal choices so as to control the quality of your work–maybe better stated, the quality of your life.

It is my job every morning to slice the grapefruits in half. Since there are three of us, every other day it requires the division of two such orbs. Although I have practiced for some time, I can never quite get the grapefruit cut completely evenly, so that the halves are identical. (I know this is my lacking, so you needn’t inform me.)

So then I have a decision: who gets the small grapefruit?

Honestly, my inclination is to view myself as the physically largest person in the room, so therefore it stands to reason that I should get a larger grapefruit. E-h-h-h–not for me. The notion of passing out grapefruit based on massiveness really turns me off.

I thought about having somebody else slice the grapefruit, but then I’m depending on their good nature and sense of fairness to be superior to mine–and therefore end up with the small grapefruit anyway, right? So the only way to guarantee that the grapefruit will be distributed to my liking is to carve it myself.

So back to the question: who gets that inevitably smaller half (which ends up being kind of a third by the time I finish mutilating it)?

It didn’t take me long to come to a conclusion: I always take the small grapefruit.

It’s not because I’m a martyr. It’s not because I’m trying to win points in heavenly places. It’s just that the decision to choose any other option is so selfish, stupid and ridiculous that I don’t even want to entertain it.

I wouldn’t want to think that I’m better than anyone else so I get the bigger grapefruit.

Now you may find this really silly, but I think it’s supreme.

Matter of fact, if I were transported back in time and could give counsel to Adam and Eve, I would say: “Listen. Take care of the small grapefruit, and the apples will take care of themselves.”

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Trinity to the Third Power … September 29, 2013

Jonathots Daily Blog

(2021)

A Father who loves us.

A son who is our elder brother, to explain things in “people terms.”

And a Holy Spirit, to remind us about good things–and forgive us when we slip-slide away into the bad.

It’s a great system … unless you happen to teach that the father in question is really an abusive step-dad who hates you because you aren’t his kid. Or that the son is a jealous older brother, who constantly reminds you of the sacrifices he’s made for you. Or that Holy Spirit follows you around, critical of your every move, reminding you of only one thing–your inadequacy.

I guess it’s all how you teach it, right? Or maybe it’s how you view it.

I would not be interested in a God who was not my Father. As my Father, I ask Him to take responsibility for His part in creating me.

I would not be interested in a Jesus who was a son who suffered from a persecution complex and hung around the cross all day, just to punctuate the point about his martyrdom.

And I really cannot be interested in a Holy Spirit that IS more of a ghost sent to scare us away from a devil’s hell.

I go to Trinity Lutheran Church in Circleville, Ohio, tomorrow morning. I’ll be curious to see if they use the trinity to its third power–or if they have drained the juice and merely have a trinity by name.

But I will tell them about a loving Father, a friend who sticks closer than a brother and a Spirit that gives us wisdom in our hour of need.

Who knows? Maybe they’ll be interested.

The producers of jonathots would humbly request a yearly subscription donation of $10 for this wonderful, inspirational opportunity

Please contact Jonathan’s agent, Jackie Barnett, at (615) 481-1474, for information about personal appearances or scheduling an event

Morse Code… September 28, 2013

Jonathots Daily Blog

(2020)

What an absolutely magical and simultaneously bizarre sensation it was last night as I turned onto Morse Road and headed to my gig at Ascension Lutheran. From the 3-C Highway to High Street is about a three or four mile stretch of pavement which explodes with memories from my childhood. I breathed them all in, smiled, heading off toward my evening’s activities.

Right on the corner was the location of Stan’s Restaurant, a place where, as a young boy, my parents would stop to eat dinner after their weekly excursion of puttering around at the Northern Lights Shopping Center. We children were always instructed to order the “chicken in a basket” while my dad had a T-bone steak. We didn’t care. It was eating out.

Right next door was the Lion’s Den Gentlemen’s Store. There was one church in town that didn’t think it was an establishment for gentlemen. They picketed against the pornography and made the newspaper for a season, but as the years have passed, the church is long-gone and the Lion’s Den, prosperous.

Just  down that road was the Northland Shopping Center, one of the first places I took my music group to perform in front of bustling patrons more interested in sales than in a rag-tag music group attempting to gain their attention. We were oblivious. The mall gave us fifty dollars for doing two shows, and we thought we had struck oil.

At that mall I also played the part of Santa Claus, which was suited both to my body type and my financial needs.

Just a few blocks down was a place called Schmidt’s Sausage House. The company still exists, though they long ago moved from the original location. Mr. Schmidt (or whoever the owner was) encountered our music group at a Catholic church, and he liked us so much he asked us to come in and perform on Monday nights, in the hopes of building his crowd by having live entertainment. (I’m not so sure we ever did that for him, but I do have great memories of a “Bahama Mama,” which, by the way, is a sausage, not an exotic dancer.)

And not too far down the road was a place called Lowe’s Theater. It was one of the closest movie-going places to my hometown. It was also the site of my first date with a girl at age sixteen. I can remember that I was so glad when the movie started, so we didn’t have to keep coming up with things to talk about. After much consternation, about three-quarters of the way through the film, I worked up the courage to reach over and hold her hand. I was surprised at how wet it was. I don’t know whether it was my perspiration or hers, but it was the first time I shared sweat with another human being.

And finally, down on the corner of High Street, there used to be a Frisch’s Restaurant. When I was twenty-four years old I sat in that restaurant with a friend and made one of the major decisions of my life. I decided to take my family, in our beat-up van, along with my music group, and move to Nashville, Tennessee and try to make a go of it. I was tired of being a local singer, pretty well-respected for my talent, but completely disdained and criticized for having no money.

That move to Nashville was undoubtedly one of the highlights of my young existence–and changed everything from a dream to a pathway of reality.

So when I went in concert last night at Ascension Lutheran and only fourteen people showed up for the “local boy who’s done good,” I had to laugh. It was another piece of my own personal Morse Code from Morse Road–another memory to add to the scrapbook.

And I guess I’ll just keep adding them–good, bad and ugly–until there are just no more pictures to be taken … because I’m gone.

The producers of jonathots would humbly request a yearly subscription donation of $10 for this wonderful, inspirational opportunity

Please contact Jonathan’s agent, Jackie Barnett, at (615) 481-1474, for information about personal appearances or scheduling an event

Ascension Attention… September 27, 2013

Jonathots Daily Blog

(2019)

Some things certainly “captain my hook” while others never “tinker my bell.”

Thus is life in these United States.

So this morning when I looked at my calendar and realized I would be performing tonight at Ascension Lutheran Church in Columbus, Ohio, I got to thinking about the word “ascension.”

Obviously, it means “to ascend.” But in reference to the Good Book, it specifically puts a spotlight on a day when Jesus “lifted off” from the earth and headed back to heaven–right in front of the peepers of his best friends.

Now you see, the ascension doesn’t turn me on nearly as much as the resurrection–not because I believe giving new life to a broken, crucified body is more POSSIBLE than levitating into the ethos. It’s more that … I don’t really care.

At the risk of incurring the wrath of those who maintain their spirituality without question, I will tell you there are stories in the Good Book I really like and others I kind of ignore.

I am not alone here.

After all, the folks who get upset about abortion and gay people have certainly failed to peruse the rest of the texts that tell us “not to judge” and to “do unto others.”

But there is one part of that ascension story that I do find inspiring and entertaining. Shall I refer to it as “an angel with an attitude?”

Generally, when angels appear on earth to do the beckoning of the Father in heaven, they often show up with a bit of chip on the shoulder and some sardonic wit. These angelic visitors have been known to strike people blind and deaf due to human disbelief, satirically ask women who have come to a grave to add their spice to the burial “why they seek the living among the dead,” and at the ascension of Jesus into heaven, it is recorded that an angel, a bit peeved, asked the gawking disciples, “Men of Galilee, why are you staring at the heavens?”

The logical answer was that this was their first time to see somebody float skyward. Rather impressive. A guarantee of first place on America’s Got Talent (unless there was a country singer who lost his leg in Afghanistan and saved his dog’s life from a burning shack while supporting his mother by digging out horse crap from a stable…)

But it is a good question–one I suspect I will pose to the audience at Ascension tonight.

“Why are we staring at the heavens?”

After all, the other alternative–which most people select–is to stare at the ground.

But there is a lifestyle somewhere between the ethereal and depression. It’s the ability to live an honest and truthful existence, enabling you to look straight ahead, preferably right in the eyes of your brothers and sisters.

I have no intention of being downcast. But I also do not want to be upcast when there are people who need help, love, encouragement and challenge.

So why are we staring at the heavens? It’s because, deep in our hearts, we’ve given up on Earth and we think the solution must come from divine intervention.

Too bad.

So call me Peter Pan–but I still believe that we can do better…and fly higher.

The producers of jonathots would humbly request a yearly subscription donation of $10 for this wonderful, inspirational opportunity

Please contact Jonathan’s agent, Jackie Barnett, at (615) 481-1474, for information about personal appearances or scheduling an event

Too Many Gods and Not Enough… September 26, 2013

Jonathots Daily Blog

(2018)

A god: someone or something worshipped as supreme.

Yesterday as I drove in downtown Columbus, Ohio, there was a flashing arrow directing us that the lane was closing.

And then it began.

A few people got over immediately to serve the common need. But most people stayed in the lane which was closing as long as they possibly could–to get a little bit ahead of everyone else. I realized that these folks had no idea that they were screaming loud and proud their god choice.

The reason I have difficulty with religion is because it doesn’t make things better.

I do not understand why we extol the value of a worship system which allows human beings to act on their own whim.

Even if you’re an atheist, you have a god. Maybe it’s nature. Perhaps animals. Could it be morality? But each deity we consider to be supernal sets a style of behavior in motion which is often contrary to earth life.

That’s why, in the Christian faith, we pursue the presence of Christ while ignoring the essence of Jesus. After all, dangling a cross from the ceiling, drinking wine from a magic cup, baptizing and reciting prayers do not replace the Golden Rule. If you allow a convert to follow ritual without learning the “rights” of humanity, you do nothing to improve our planet, but instead, merely unleash another selfish person who is desperately trying to get to the front of the line.

So please allow me to complete the title of this essay: too many gods and not enough human beings.

For I will tell you–some of the most selfish, arrogant, uncaring, unfeeling and disconnected people I have ever met in my life have just emerged from the hallowed halls of a church house. Why? Because we give them a godhead to worship without teaching them how to get into the head of God.

There are only three standards that work. You can refer to them as spiritual, or if you seek no divinity whatsoever, you can acknowledge them as essential:

1. Do unto others as you would have them do unto you. No law, edict, philosophy or set of rules work if we don’t have an understanding and an empathy for the common traveler.

2. NoOne is better than anyone else. Whether you totally believe this statement to be true or not, to contend anything else is to set in motion the prejudice which leads to bigotry, which ultimately concludes with murder and war.

3. Don’t judge or you will be judged. Some people call it “karma.” Other people call it “even-steven.” Whatever you call it, how you evaluate other human beings is the way you will eventually be critiqued by others–with a little edge added on. This doesn’t mean I don’t have opinions; it means that my opinions are trumped by my realization that even people who live in stained-glass houses shouldn’t throw stones.

We have too many gods and not enough human beings.

• Laws will not work without mercy.
• Rules are broken without understanding.

Where can we start? We can start by honoring the essence instead of just bowing down in adulation to the presence. In so doing, we might be surprised that the presence of God will not need to be conjured, but instead … will dwell within us.

The producers of jonathots would humbly request a yearly subscription donation of $10 for this wonderful, inspirational opportunity

Please contact Jonathan’s agent, Jackie Barnett, at (615) 481-1474, for information about personal appearances or scheduling an event

Flawed and Blessed… September 25, 2013

Jonathots Daily Blog

(2017)

A rather new phenomenon. At least, I think so.

I can’t remember a time in my four-decade career when people have led so persistently with their diagnoses.

Perhaps that’s a bit unclear. Here’s what I mean: when I meet new human beings, within a very short time they tell me what ails them, the name of their condition, their treatment, and sometimes even the conclusion.

Now, this is not limited to older people. Younger folks do the same thing, although sometimes it will be proffered from their parents standing nearby.

To a certain degree I think our society has become the victim of “diagnosis-hocus-pocus.” Rather than coming to the conclusion that we’re just human beings, and therefore an amazing collage of “flawed” and “blessed,” we are beginning to establish our distinction based upon the uniqueness of conditions.

I, too, received a diagnosis–actually, several of them–about eighteen years ago. I don’t share these. Why? Because pity in no way resembles respect, and sympathy is a horrible substitute for love. But if pity and sympathy are what you want, then having a nearly unpronounceable illness might be valuable.

I know this could be misinterpreted as an attack against the medical field, or some sort of assertion on my part that “we should not be so concerned about our health.” I do believe in modern medicine and am quite aware that ailments exist, even to the point of tormenting my brothers and sisters.

But I just think that how we feel cannot be the impetus for what we are.

We are all flawed–and if we develop a sense of joy about being alive, we can persevere and achieve blessing.

I, like all my fellow-travelers, could describe my aches and pains and keep you busy for a good hour and a half. But there’s a wonderful statement in the Good Book that says, “Let everything be done to the edification of all.”

I just don’t think anyone is edified by hearing me complain. I don’t think humanity grows by realizing my weaknesses.

Somewhere along the line, each one of us has to walk away from a diagnosis and move toward a prognosis of living on with a little hurt.

I’m not saying we shouldn’t take treatment–but I am saying that when treatment overtakes your desire to excel, multiply your talents and love life and the folks around you, you’ve already put one foot in the grave.

• Not every child who is hyperactive needs medication.
• Not ever skin rash is a sign that we are allergic to forty-four different chemicals.
• Not every headache is a brain tumor.
• And not every sore knee means that you should be wheeled into surgery and turned into an android.

All of us are graciously flawed and blessed–flawed in order to truly appreciate the value of our blessing; and blessed so that we don’t spend so much time thinking about our flaws.

The producers of jonathots would humbly request a yearly subscription donation of $10 for this wonderful, inspirational opportunity

Please contact Jonathan’s agent, Jackie Barnett, at (615) 481-1474, for information about personal appearances or scheduling an event

Quatrain of Our Anniversary… September 24, 2013

Jonathots Daily Blog

(2016)

 

Nobody agreed we should

We ignored the advice

Forty-three years later

The critics are mute

 

 

The producers of jonathots would humbly request a yearly subscription donation of $10 for this wonderful, inspirational opportunity

Please contact Jonathan’s agent, Jackie Barnett, at (615) 481-1474, for information about personal appearances or scheduling an event