PoHymn: A Rustling in the Stagnant … July 25th, 2018

 Jonathots Daily Blog

(3745)

The Process

by Jonathan Richard Cring

Ineffective

Stalled

Broken

Evaluated

Rejected

Offered

Refused

Presented

Snubbed

Condemned

Abandoned

Worthless

Available

Comical

Revisit

Curious

Concerned

Careful

Courageous

Cleanse

Scrape

Repair

Replace

Restructure

Reinvent

Renewal

Reveal

Tepid

Uncaring

Critical

Short-sighted

Persevere

Time

Chance

Music

Dance

Notice

Appreciation

Praise

Admired

Mine

Our guest reader this week is Janet, who lives in Florida with her family, and is a master musician.

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Dear Man/Dear Woman: A Noteworthy Conversation … March 26th, 2016

 Jonathots Daily Blog

(2885)

Dear Man Dear Woman

Dear Man: Cooperate.

Dear Woman: Is that an order?

Dear Man: No, I was just thinking about the word. Co, meaning the two of us, and operate … well, I guess that implies working together.

Dear Woman: The two of us working together. That’s cool.

Dear Man: Well, the trouble is, it’s not cool. We are taught to be independent. Self-sufficient. We’re working on our own biographies instead of a human story. Somehow we feel diminished if all the praise doesn’t come our way but instead is given to a cooperative effort.

Dear Woman: I see what you mean. Yet that’s always been my problem with collaboration. Rather than everybody standing back and rejoicing over the end result, each person has a tendency to point out his or her part in the process.

Dear Man: We can’t help it. Society tells us if we don’t toot our own horn it won’t get tooted.

Dear Woman: It is possible for somebody to blow your horn. After all, it is a horn.

Dear Man: That’s funny. And oh, so true. I guess we need to remember that we were created to be in a garden. It’s a co-op. No person is sufficient unto themselves without a common humanity and a common good.

Dear Woman: I have to be honest. I’m resistant to that concept. I mean, I understand it but it’s like I feel I need to have autonomy. Otherwise I don’t have my own thing.

Dear Man: I’m the same way. I would like to include you, but I really don’t want you to feel like you’re necessary.

Dear Woman: But it’s all over nature. If you don’t mind me bringing it up, even sexuality is kind of comical. The male and female parts are not competely compatible with each other unless the man and the woman talk, discuss and share.

Dear Man: So true. Yet at the same time, we feel like we should be complete within ourselves. It’s important to acknowledge what we have, otherwise we don’t know what we require.

Dear Woman: And it’s not stereotypes. Not all men are strong and all women emotional.

Dear Man: Absolutely not! Sometimes the female is the strong one and the man brings the emotion. It’s knowing how to co-op. In farming, one person plants, another waters and God and Nature give the increase.

Dear Woman: So why are we so damn afraid of this?

Dear Man: We’re taught to look at each other sexually, not practically.

Dear Woman: I can see that. Sometimes I’m just nervous talking to a woman because I’m afraid…I don’t know…that she doesn’t find me attractive.

Dear Man: What can be more attractive than an intelligent exchange? Or the realization that somebody has brought some information to you that completes one of your goals?

Dear Woman: So what can we do to initiate this co-op?

Dear Man: I think what stumps people is that in order to become strong, you have to know where you’re weak. And to use your weakness is to learn to recognize what you need before it’s pointed out to you.

Dear Woman: I think I could actually do that, especially if I had a friend to remind me when I was stumping around advertising my ego instead of being honest about my limitations.

Dear Man: Men and women were meant to cooperate–joining together to operate a plan that is only enhanced by their dual efforts.

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Untotaled: Stepping 29–(October 28th, 1966) Soaping… August 30, 2014

Jonathots Daily Blog

(2337)

(Transcript)

Halloween always brought out the “ween” in me.

I was never particularly fond of monsters, and dressing up like Superman, with my chubby physique, was inevitably comical.

On top of that, my hometown called trick or treat “Beggars Night.” It made me feel like I was running through the streets of Calcutta with my gunny sack, bringing provision home to my family of untouchables.

I think the worst experience was when I was seven years old, decided I wanted to be Casper the Friendly Ghost, and my mother discovered they didn’t make the costume of the gregarious apparition in any size except medium. Needless to say, I wasn’t a size medium, and the manufacturers never envisioned a 142-pound seven-year-old. Yet I was insistent, so my mother took scissors and trimmed it up so I could slide it on, but as I walked from house to house, it continued to rip where the scissors began, transforming me from a friendly ghost into a “holey ghost.”

I was grateful when I outgrew the experience.

That is, until my friends decided they wanted to go out for Halloween–soaping. It was a common practice of the time. Bored teenagers took bars of soap, snuck around town smearing messages on the windows of cars and homes, giggling and feeling rebellious to their Midwestern in-house imprisonment.

Four of my friends decided to go on such an escapade and invited me, so we bicycled to a deserted garage just outside of town to practice before we went out on the actual adventure. We bought bars of Ivory Soap (simply because it was 99.44 % pure).

I was so nervous that I pushed too hard on the window pane at the warehouse and it broke. This concerned my fellow Musketeers, so they decided to uninvite me so as not to be deemed vandals in their pursuit of cautious rebellion.

So I sat at home on Halloween pouting. Not even seven Milky Way bars could alleviate my suffering.

The next morning I discovered that my friends got caught on their ninth house, and the constable levied a punishment by placing their pictures in the newspaper, and made them wash all the windows they had desecrated.

Honestly, I didn’t know whether I felt grateful for getting out of the retribution or a little sad because I wasn’t one of the cool guys who had a story to tell.

So I guess I need to close this off with some sort of moral. And that would be, there are just some things that go together:

  • Salt and pepper
  • Love and marriage
  • Congress and confusion
  • And soap and water.

So be prepared–if you’re going to use your bar of Ivory, you might want to be aware that you’ll probably end up … washing.

 

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The Sermon on the Mount in music and story. Click the mountain!

The Sermon on the Mount in music and story. Click the mountain!

 

Click here to get info on the "Gospel According to Common Sense" Tour

Click here to get info on the “Gospel According to Common Sense” Tour

Please contact Jonathan’s agent, Jackie Barnett, at (615) 481-1474, for information about scheduling SpiriTed in 2014.

Click here to listen to Spirited music

Click here to listen to Spirited music

Untotaled: Stepping 22 (May 14th, 1965) Jack Smack … July 12, 2014

 Jonathots Daily Blog

(2289) 

(Transcript)

School was nearly out. I cannot tell you the relief I felt to finish out the year.

Having survived my infatuation with Jennifer, I had disguised my feelings by using revenge or attempts at ridicule, to make it seem that I no longer cared about her.

We were two days prior to summer vacation, in the midst of a school-wide festival, which had loosened the reigns on the tight restrictions usually imposed on us by teachers and principals.

I was feeling so darned good that I felt like I could say “damn.”

I was in the hallway with my friend, Craig, when we both noticed that Jennifer was standing next to the boy’s locker room door, absent-mindedly staring out the window into the school parking lot.

I had an idea–another way to embarrass Jennifer and therefore appease my male ego from her rejection. I whispered my inclination to Craig and he giggled.

So we ran forward, grabbed Jennifer, opened the boy’s locker room door, and pushed her in. It seemed hilarious in the moment. We lodged our bodies against the door as she pounded and screamed to escape. Her pleas sounded a bit comical to us, so we were in no hurry to set her free.

Suddenly she stopped crying out and the pushing on the door ceased.

So both Craig and I ran back into the festivities, hoping to blend into the crowd so that our misdeed would go unnoticed. Little did we know that in the boy’s locker room was Coach Swartz–and that he had walked out of the shower to discover that Jennifer was there, peering at him, creating what could only be the personification of an awkward moment.

He quickly covered himself, ran around to the other door, to peek and see who was keeping her from escaping.

Now for a moment let me talk about Coach Swartz. He was a collision of cool, crazy and confusion. He was cool because he was very handsome and all the girls in the school thought he was dreamy. Crazy, because he taught health class, and thinking that he was a doctor, passed out some erroneous advice. And confusing because he once told us at football practice that black people couldn’t play quarterback because there was extra oil on their hands, and they couldn’t hold onto the ball.

We also knew his first name was Jack because he had a paddling board which he used to punish students, which he had surnamed “Jack Smack.”

Returning to my story, Coach Swartz, with his hair still wet from the shower, ran into the festivities, found Craig and me, took us into his office and explained his overexposure to dear Jennifer.

He wasn’t mad, but said we would have to be punished. He wasn’t even mad as he took the Jack Smack board from its perch on the wall and hammered us both on the ass, seven times apiece.

Matter of fact, from that moment on, I think he liked us more, winking at us in the hallway as he reflected back to his one-man Chippendale show for Jennifer.

Even Jennifer never complained about our prank.

So you see, even though I got my butt whipped, I didn’t learn anything about being a better person through this experience … whatsoever.

 

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Arizona morning

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Please contact Jonathan’s agent, Jackie Barnett, at (615) 481-1474, for information about scheduling SpiriTed in 2014.

Click here to listen to Spirited music

Click here to listen to Spirited music

 

 

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

Jonathots Daily Blog  

(2184)

(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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Click here to get info on the "Gospel According to Common Sense" Tour

Click here to get info on the “Gospel According to Common Sense” Tour

Please contact Jonathan’s agent, Jackie Barnett, at (615) 481-1474, for information about scheduling SpiriTed in 2014.

Rebirth Certificate… December 18, 2013

Jonathots Daily Blog

(2096)

birthdayJonI was born.

Although present, I retain no memory. Apparently there were people who were excited about the idea, who later became overwhelmed with the duties and responsibility and eventually settled into a nearly comical profile, blending pride and disappointment. Funny thing about family–it is often touted as our greatest benefactor. But truthfully, it’s more like investors grumbling over the return.

They gave me a certificate at my birth to confirm that the appearance actually happened–that I was not an alien and therefore was qualified, or at least permitted, to be President of the United States if I reached such an arrogant and ridiculous conclusion.

As wonderful as it is to be born of the wife of my father, I have found this year that to be born of Mother Nature and honoring my Father in heaven to be an even greater transformation.

Yes, this year I feel like I have received a “Rebirth Certificate.” It was really quite simple to procure. After all my years of earth travel, I have finally surrendered to a pair of principles that make everything work together to the good:

  1. Don’t expect too much.
  2. Don’t get offended.

That’s it.

If you can remind yourself of these two ideas every day, you can finish out with the setting of the sun having a joyous resignation to reality.

Of course, the society I live in denies these two precepts and replaces them with “dream big and don’t take crap off of anyone.” Matter of fact, you can get a cheer in almost any gathering by proclaiming your uniqueness, individuality and determination that you will not be overcome.

Not me.

Today is my birthday, so I’m going to tell you what I’m celebrating:

  • I have taken this year to lessen my need and increase my gift.
  • I have used these 365 days to find a way to accept my surroundings as the available climate for my next endeavor.
  • I have reached inside myself to find the Kingdom of God instead of demanding that others adhere to my theology or moral code.
  • I have challenged the only person I am able to affect: the one who stares back at me in the mirror.
  • I have realized that the treatment I receive from strangers has nothing to do with me, but rather, their ongoing struggle with understanding their own birth.
  • And those people who are determined to hurt me waste valuable time that they could be using to pursue their own personal excellence.

It is a “Rebirth Certificate.” I don’t expect too much and I try real hard not to get offended.

Since I have no recollection of my initial forthcoming from my mother’s womb, if you don’t mind, I will celebrate this new experience.

Born again.

Yes, I think I finally get it.

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

Click for details on the SpirTed 2014 presentation

Click for details on the SpirTed 2014 presentation

Please contact Jonathan’s agent, Jackie Barnett, at (615) 481-1474, for information about scheduling SpiriTed in 2014.

click to hear music from Spirited 2014

click to hear music from Spirited 2014

Hone to Own … December 7, 2013

Jonathots Daily Blog

(2086)

  1. “I did my best.”
  2. “It must not have been in God’s plan.”
  3. “It wasn’t fair.”

You have just read the three excuses that keep mankind pursuing a mediocrity that teeters us precariously between animal and God.

These excuses are so universally accepted as “facts of life” that to question them is to be declared either cantankerous or un-American. Yet, may I address them?

First of all, I don’t know what my best is.

It is both arrogant and surrendering to make the statement. Arrogant because I am presenting that my best should be good enough, and surrendering because I portray that life should not be about the pursuit of improvement.

I have the responsibility to hone my talent. “Hone” is an unusal word. We don’t hear it much because it requires the combination of critique and passion. Actually, if I follow the Good Book, I am told to multiply my talent–which in reality, is the only way to hone it. If I am not looking for subtle ways to create differences and increase my potentials, I will gradually slide back into mediocrity.

I critique myself, and then pursue with passion additional avenues with great joy due to the possibility of getting better.

Secondly, God’s plan, put bluntly, is to give people the freewill choice to not perish.

As a matter of fact, it says that: “It is not God’s will that any should perish.” Then it adds this caveat: even though it is not His will that any should perish, He wants us to pursue repentance.

Repentance is changing your life in the direction of success.

If you actually believe that God planned for you to suffer, you might want to start checking out those Greek gods from Mt. Olympus.

And finally, “it wasn’t fair” is comical because life was never meant to be fair–but rather, balanced.

And the balance in life is found by combining events with my reaction.

In other words, if a blessing comes my way and I gloat, I set myself up for future failure by ignoring the need for reflection. If a trial comes my way and I become depressed, I am a duck sitting in the middle of a pond in front of twenty-five hunters.

It is my job to hone my abilities in order to own the privilege of determining my destiny.

Don’t cripple yourself with self-confidence. Also, don’t limit your prospects with self-pity.

  • You haven’t found your best yet.
  • God’s plan is for you to succeed and not perish by adding the miraculous ingredient of change.
  • And searching for fairness is futile when the only balance in life is giving a great reaction to whatever comes our way.

In conclusion:

Answer the question

Question the answer.

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

Click for details on the SpirTed 2014 presentation

Click for details on the SpirTed 2014 presentation

Please contact Jonathan’s agent, Jackie Barnett, at (615) 481-1474, for information about scheduling SpiriTed in 2014.

click to hear music from Spirited 2014

click to hear music from Spirited 2014

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