Jonathots Daily Blog
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You Need to Do to Make a Stew
1. Find out what you’ve got. (Don’t forget the back of the refrigerator.)
2. Chop it all up.
Drawing Attention … April 29th, 2020
Jonathots Daily Blog
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What I Realized on My Birthday
(tap the picture to see the video)
art by Clazzy
Click here to visit the Clazzy Art website
Scrambles … April 28th, 2020
Jonathots Daily Blog
(4394)
Take a few minutes and unscramble this week’s inspirational thought from the words provided:
have
already
need
Peace
and
want
of
where
mind
is
P. S. Find the unscrambled answer in today’s jonathotsjr.com
1 Thing We Know for Sure
We Are Not in Charge
The more we insist we are, the less power we possess.
The more we respect our surroundings, the greater our potential.
For you see, we came to Earth—Earth did not come to us.
Looking around at our times, we are suddenly struck with the realization that we are all the same.
There are no culture barriers.
This is something we manufactured because we had too much time on our hands.
Women are not inferior and men superior.
This was the makings for sassy TV—but an uncomfortable lifestyle.
Oh, by the way—we can survive with less, though more seems to be our favorite word.
Hugging is heavenly.
We are learning to mask our faces but unmask our hearts.
And once and for all, we’ve demonstrated, without exception, that worry is no damn good.
Guessing can be dangerous.
Thinking is like a prayer with knowledge.
Turns out that bitching, complaining and opinions are pretty much all the same.
Humor has become the gold that will actually bring back our money.
The virus is not impressed with our two-party system.
It mocks our checks and balances.
It humiliates our Declaration of Independence and Constitution—reaching every home, even our Gettysburg Address.
Since we’re not in charge, the only thing we can do is work on us.
Things I Learned from R. B. (April 26th, 2020)
Jonathots Daily Blog
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Episode 12
Three phone calls.
This is the extent of the contact I had with R. B. over the next two years. On the first two occasions, he tracked me down through a young man who was assisting us with scheduling and knew where we were at all times.
The first call was a chatty conversation about his latest meet-up with Kristall—how it was bittersweet because she was moving to New York City. He was already making plans to follow her, believing they were entwined in a harmony of purposes.
The second dial-up was to inform me that he had lost his job in Dallas and was moving to Tacoma, Washington. He explained all the maladies of his Texas situation—how he had needed to move on and was grateful for the urging provided by the firing.
But the third phone call came from me.
I tracked him down in Tacoma—really just by using the old-fashioned telephone book. My reason was practical.
I had received notice through the mail that a woman in Missouri was interested in purchasing one hundred copies of my first book, “The Gospel According to Common Sense.” She explained how much she had enjoyed it, and wanted to pass it along to strangers, who might find it easier to understand than Brothers Matthew, Mark, Luke or John.
I was so moved.
My soul was so hungry for some confirmation that what I was doing was worthwhile and who I was, meaningful.
Yet my book was out of print. I felt compelled to try to get it printed again and get those one hundred copies into this lady’s hands.
Maybe it was mission, or maybe vanity. I still don’t know.
I priced the printing and found out that all I needed was a hundred and twenty-five dollars. I had fifty.
I know it may sound ridiculous, but I had absolutely no way to lay my hands on that other seventy-five dollars except…
I called R. B. I told him I needed a loan. I explained it would be a brief period of time—because as soon as the woman sent me back the check for the books, I would be able to reimburse him.
My plea for the money was about two minutes long but the conversation lasted two hours.
R. B. stated, in a hundred different ways, how he was taught never to loan money. He asked me a half dozen times why I didn’t already have the money. He questioned whether my story was truthful. He made me grovel.
At the end of the two hours, having given me no official answer, he said he would think about it and call me next week.
As I hung up the phone, I realized he hadn’t asked for my telephone number—nor did it seem he wanted one.
I waited and I waited.
Finally, after two weeks, I contacted him again. He apologized and said he could give me the money at the end of the month—which was three weeks away. I reiterated that this was a time-sensitive affair, since the order was now four weeks old. He didn’t understand why a few more days would make a difference.
While I was waiting for R. B. to provide the final funds to order the books, a letter arrived from the lady canceling her request and scolding me for not having the integrity to respond in time.
It hurt so badly.
Not only did I fail to give my writings an opportunity to be used, but I was thrust into the role of the incompetent child.
I did place a brief fifth call. (I forgot about those last two.) It was to inform R. B. that he would no longer need to provide the funds.
He laughed and said, “Well, it’s probably for the best.”
It wasn’t—for the best, that is.
As I look back on my journey with this fellow, I have to be honest and admit that this incident might have colored many of my views and inhibited some of my compassion. I would hope not, but I am a bit suspicious of myself.
Cracked 5 … April 25th, 2020
Jonathots Daily Blog
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Reasons That Cauliflower Should Not be Put in Pizza Dough
A. It’s just naturally a little stinky, stinky, big-butt
B. Although white, it doesn’t seem to possess the “privilege”
C. Just because it has “flower” in its name doesn’t really make it flour
D. People try to escape the taste by adding more fatty cheese and greasy sausage
E. God is really pissed.
Sit Down Comedy … April 24th, 2020
Jonathots Daily Blog
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Sometimes good people do bad things.
Likewise, bad people do good things.
More often, people do nothing.
This compels us to ask the question, “Should folks be judged by what they accomplish, or by the dictates of their beliefs and the parameters of their character?”
It does come up.
For the greatest among us are often splattered with iniquity, while simultaneously making a notable contribution.
Such is the case of a man named Henry Ford.
He is arguably the inventor of the car. The argument exists because there were many souls experimenting with the “horseless carriage,” but Henry was certainly the first one to take it to market, promoting a product known as the Model T.
Mr. Ford jokingly once said about his Model T, “The customer can get it in any color whatsoever that he may want, as long as it’s black.”
Along with this massive achievement of motorizing the race, Mr. Ford was also known to be one of the worst bigots and enemy of the Jewish people. He even received an award for his writings from Adolph Hitler and the Nazi boys.
So history has handled the dilemma by enjoying the automobile and leaving next to it an asterisk, which quietly tells about its creator, Henry Ford.
Perhaps that’s the best way.
But the truth of the matter is, Henry Ford took something that was impossible and made it pleasing. Why was it impossible?
A gasoline combustible engine.
Can you find a word in there that isn’t dangerous?
Yet Henry took on the job of making a shell to sit on top of that engine safe for traveling.
He did it by following a three-step process. And though I don’t agree with Henry about the Children of Abraham, I cannot ignore the visionary approach he took for making the renowned family car.
First step: make it work.
It doesn’t matter how pretty it is, how many colors it comes in or how many seats it has—if it doesn’t work.
It has to function without people choking from all the smoke. It has to start up instead of needing repair on every trip. It must be reliable.
Now wait a second. I must be candid—over half the things we have going on in this country are negated because they don’t work. They are pretty, popular, spiritual, touted—but they don’t work.
If you’re going to do great things, you have to make sure the great thing you have come up with actually kicks ass, while taking names.
Number Two: make it comfortable.
It was not easy to ride a horse for twenty miles to the next town. That’s why they came up with the carriage in the first place. But it had its drawbacks, with broken wheels, axles and many a sore buttock.
Yet people were not going to give up their horses for something that did not work—and was not pleasant.
Room for at least three inside.
A little padding on the seats.
Glass in the windows.
A way to get fresh air.
And a way to start the vehicle that didn’t demand priming the engine each time or turning a crank.
And then, once you make it comfortable:
Number three: make it fun.
All the things that have been added to the automobile since Henry Ford pushed his little invention down the road have been all about making driving fun.
- Radio.
- Speedometers.
- Air conditioning.
- Heated seats.
- Video.
- Audio.
- GPS.
- Mirrors everywhere.
These have turned the car into more than just a means of transportation. Now it’s a way to brag about your success.
Henry Ford, in spite of his bigotry, took an idea and made it work, made it comfortable and made it fun.
Somewhere along the line we will have to do this with everything we wish to accomplish in America, or we will drag our feet, fail to pursue great ideas—and shall we say—back the wrong horse.
Jonathots Daily Blog 
