Breakstart … March 24, 2014

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toiletTradition is a habit that seems to have a purpose. Yet every once in a while, we have to stop and ask ourselves, “Is there a better way?”

Otherwise, tradition, lacking a reason, resembles a prison.

Please allow me an oversimplification. When I was in my twenties I traveled with two women in a music group across the country. I learned two things about women:

  1. They are human beings just like me, and
  2. If you truly want to impress, dazzle, seduce and even receive respect–just put the toilet seat down.

I know it sounds trivial, and facts are, it is. It is so trivial that not recognizing it as simple and easy to do is an obvious breach of respect, tenderness and concern.

Let’s be honest–when a man lifts the toilet seat to do his business, the flusher on that pot is right next to the seat on the way out the door. In other words, if you reach for the flusher, your hand is already on the seat, able to permit it to come down. So making an excuse that it’s two separate motions,  hard to remember or difficult to execute is not only ludicrous–to the female mind, it’s insulting.

We are never going to learn to do extraordinary things until we openly admit that we’re ignoring ordinary things that could be done but are being passed over by us out of either insolence or laziness.

It took me about ten tries, but on the eleventh one, it was not only natural to put the toilet seat in the position more suitable for the ladies, but I did it without even thinking.

Or was it that I did it with thinking?

It may be traditional to have the classic battle between men and women exemplified in the bathroom, with the toilet. But success is doing something you don’t have to do, knowing that it will make someone else’s life easier.

Break a tradition and start a miracle–because miracles never happen when you’re repeating yesterday’s efforts. And by the way, you want to startle and enthrall a woman?

Put a lid on it.

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Jesonian: Picky and Goofy … March 23, 2014

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camel“It’s important.”

I hear it all the time.

People have gone off into their own soul, deciding for themselves what they have determined to be of value in life.

Sometimes it’s religious, other times political and often it’s business.

My job? Listen, learn, observe–or face their wrath.

Here’s my problem with the “important” crowd: it’s not open for discussion.

Matter of fact, they become very picky. They not only want you to know it’s important, they take you to step two, which is: we need to do it.

Now it’s not only important, but we need to do it–and the we demands me.

Step 3: “If we don’t do it, we’ll be in trouble.”

At this point, any objection I might lodge would be anti-God, anti-American, anti-human and anti-reasonable. And of course, unfortunately, this lends itself to a fourth conclusion: “Don’t listen to anything else.”

Thus, 350 different Christian denominations in America.

Everybody has gotten picky, decided that we all need to do it, and if we don’t we’ll be in trouble–and by the way, if you’re smart, don’t listen to anybody else.

So here’s my assertion–I believe that “picky” leads to “goofy.”

Once you choose a lifestyle of being certain about everything, you start getting goofy about enforcement.  For instance:

How much flax is my your cereal?

Ridiculous discussions in church board meetings about whether communion wine could be white, or must be red?

Committee meetings in Washington, D.C. arguing over a point of parliamentary procedure (after fighting a war rebelling against Parliament…)

Picky leads to goofy.

Once folks get picky over little things, they often become goofy over the big things that are really important.

Offering a solution–may I call it a Jesonian one?

  1. It could be important–I’m not sure, but let’s chat.
  2. Let’s ask ourselves–what happens if we apply this? Do we learn, grow or go backwards?
  3. And what will is the progress? Are we afraid of evolution? Is it against our religion–literally?
  4. And finally, what is the next revelation? Because if we just discovered one important thing, what makes us think it’s the last one? There’s another one coming. Are you ready? Do you have some room in your brain? Can you open up your soul for it?

Picky people eventually become goofy and then they become more annoying than valuable.

So stop straining at the gnat and swallowing the camel.

It makes you look like you’re trying to be God instead of on a quest to find Him.

 

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UNTOTALED: Stepping 7–Tackling Laziness (September 4th, 1965) … March 22, 2014

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(Transcript)

Starting the seventh grade scared the crap out of me.

Actually, that particular cliché doesn’t fit very well because when you’re entering junior high school in a new building, the idea of any sound or bodily fluid coming out of your being is completely terrifying.

You want to simultaneously be invisible and also appreciated, which of course, is not only socially impossible, but scientifically implausible.

I had spent the week before school began begging my mother to allow me to go out for the football team. She was afraid I would get injured. This was a maternal prophetic sensation, long before the recent onslaught of concussions and head injuries. What was comical, though, about this assertion on her part was that I was nearly six feet tall and weighed three hundred pounds. The coach joked with her, when trying to solicit her support, that it would be more likely that I would hurt other children.

I whined, cajoled, pleaded, promised, praised, complimented and cleaned my room up enough to get her to agree to allow me to try out for the team.

So September 4th, 1965, was not just the first day of horror in the new junior high school. It was also my first day to go out after school and practice with the football team.

The trials continued when they were unable to find a pair of football pants to fit me.  (This was the era when men’s sizes stopped at extra-large, and anyone who needed anything bigger must order it from the sheep herders of Tibet.) So I wore a pair of tennis shoes and blue Dickey work pants to work out with the other guys, who were in suitable apparel. (They did find a helmet that fit my head, since the term fat-head is merely an urban legend.)

It became obvious to me immediately, on that small practice field, what I liked and what I didn’t.

  • I loved the game.
  • I loved tackling.
  • I loved thinking about what was going to happen next.

On the other hand, I hated exercise in all of its contorted, convoluted and fastidiously constructed forms. After all, every exercise program is really geared to skinny people–even the ones which insist they are trying to appeal to the obese. Their speculations always exceed our limitations.

I hated sprints, calisthenics, too much running of any type, and all the drills which they insisted were essential for becoming a great football player.

I endured the sport for three years, but finally my laziness regarding exercise overtook my love of the gridiron.

Maybe if I’d had the right kick in the pants from an authority figure, or perhaps mercy at the right moments and toughness at others, I might have continued playing the game. I don’t know.

But because I didn’t tackle laziness on the football field, it took me too many years to overcome that gooey, drippy vice that drags one down, draining off potential.

So the next time you run across a kid who has ability, but not much drive, please don’t assume that you should leave him alone.

I was left alone. And fascinatingly enough–it was just lonely.

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G-16: Monkey Angels … March 21, 2014

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G pic

It takes billions of years to evolve billions of years.

Therefore, it stands to reason that following billions of years, billions of things probably happened.

Yes, in the culmination of billions of years, the universe was birthed–with a tiny little baby planet called Earth, occupied by a bizarre diversity of flora and fauna, sharing one common concern: survival.

It is a situation which Nature blindly accepts, but a Creator ponders:

  • Is there more than survival?
  • Can a creature be brought forth from the jungle and be granted an emotional awareness, a deeper mental capacity and a spiritual yearning?

Monkey angels.

The Creator formed a being which was unwelcome in the arms of Mama Gorilla, and required a bit of rehab in order to hob-nob with the angels–a homey with no natural home.

Human: monkey angels.

A little bit of everything tossed in the crankcase, never quite certain if the engine will actually turn over.

Monkeys are unimpressed and angels are baffled. Are we a joke? A drunken experiment? A paradox? A mystery? Or the pride of the original “Big Banger” Himself?

It certainly explains why we feel insecure. It clarifies our nagging sensation of not belonging. It justifies the search to find ourselves.

It is why our monkey curiosity caused us to choose the wrong tree, leaving our angel abandoned in the jungle, needing the garden. We require both a cage and the freedom of the sky.

The entire creation of monkey angels seems a bit tongue-in-cheek. It is suited to those who have the playfulness of the chimpanzee and the resilience of an archangel.

Monkey angels: more than survival–chasing the banana for further study.

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The Gospel According to Common Sense (A Remake) … March 20, 2014

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I have a heart cluttered with emotion.

I possess a soul yearning to believe.

I am caretaker to a brain which can think, but prefers to react.

I live in a body filled with appetites and desires.

Sure looks like I’m a mess.

But it’s my mess.

“You break it, you own it.”

Remember that one?

So I need something to get these parts to work together.

Theater focuses on emotions.

The church, on the soul.

Education, on the brain

And the world, on the body.

I need more.

Common sense.

It isn’t so common–or we might stumble on it more often.

So here’s a clue to common sense–a passage, if you will:

I will clean my heart by being more honest about what I feel.

Pleasant and not so pleasant.

I will reawaken my soul by looking for God in people

Instead of begging the heavens.

I will think about good things more than bad.

It’s like a breath mint for the mind.

Then I will use my clean heart, loving soul and fresh brain to teach my body to exercise healthier appetites.

Finally, I will do the world a favor:

I won’t call them crazy, but I won’t go crazy with them.

Common sense.

When our common need with one another calls us to sit down and talk sense.

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Populie: Doesn’t nearly everyone watch porn? … March 19, 2014

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bigger mona lisaEleven years old and stuck on a Saturday afternoon at my aunt and uncle’s house, so bored that my brain was itching.

I made my way upstairs to their bedroom and began to look through their drawers–when suddenly I heard a scream from behind me. It was my mother in her fully enraged mode, scurrying in my direction, waving her finger.

“Stop looking in their drawers!”

I was so frustrated and angry about being put in this situation that I fired back, “What’s wrong with it? They won’t care!”

She paused for a moment, and then, in a more even tone, said, “I care. You’d better care. And they should care.”

I will never forget those words.

As I have sat quietly by for the past twenty years and watched America redefine the issue of pornography, entitling it “adult entertainment” and now donning it with the cute nomenclature of “porn,” I am not only appalled, but feel a sense of helplessness.

For after all, to some degree, in order to object I should have some intelligence on the issue, which means I should do a little investigation.

I have not.

I won’t.

It will probably leave you in disbelief when I say this, but I have never indulged in pornography. Only once–I sat at a friend’s house and rummaged through Playboy magazines for about three hours. Those images are still available in my mind, should I check them out from my upstairs library. After that, it just didn’t have any appeal.

The issue is difficult. If you find yourself opposed to porn, people will call you a prude, a moralist or ask you if you have any personal experience.

I’m not a prude. Anyone who spends five minutes with me will tell you that I am certainly relaxed on the issue of human sexuality.

And I’m not a moralist. I’m not judging those who participate or perform in such actions.

I’m not willing to go on an extensive study to try to prove my point.

But I will tell you–I think it is one of the more egregious POPULIE propagated in our society. Here’s what I believe about romance:

  • There should be no pain, no humiliation, no domination and no rape.
  • It should be filled with pleasure, appreciation, communication and agreement.

I see none of those positive elements in the pictures which are occasionally sent to me over the Internet by young women and men on Tumblr, which I quickly delete.

The fact that they are willing to do this to make money does not change the situation. We certainly would not have allowed slavery to continue in this country because Uncle Tom was comfortable at the Big House.

And we should likewise discourage men and women–but predominately females–from being subjugated just because they temporarily become comfortable with the oppression.

I know it’s not popular because the populie has permeated every facet of our society. I will tell you that over half of the ministers in this country–who probably have too much time on their hands–have fallen victim to pornography.

But I think the advice my mother gave me when I was such a snoop so many years ago still holds:

“Stop looking in people’s drawers.” 

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Quatrain of the Train… March 18, 2014

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train gif

Stay on track

Gain some steam

Make some stops

Welcome new passengers.

 

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Published in: on March 18, 2014 at 3:50 am  Leave a Comment  
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