Yappy Your Year… January 1, 2014

Jonathots Daily Blog

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Too much yapping. At least, I think so.

I like talking, but do you really think we need shows filled with it?

Talk shows. Dozens and dozens of them, which eventually denigrate to prejudicial statements made by people filling time, pretending they aren’t gossiping.

I’m a little tired of pundits, too. (Except I do like the rhyme, “redundant pundit…”)

Yes, the repetition of stolen ideas is not only a thievery of material, but also steals creativity from the heart of the American people.

Would you allow me to point out that another intolerable portion of yappiness is TV preachers? At a time in my life when I am seeking greater and greater humanity, they bestow either the drivel of psycho-babble or the onslaught of unexplained divinity.

And equally as frustrating is the new wave of agnosticism and atheism being promoted as an evolution in intelligence of an emerging “people consciousness.” Listen folks, it takes no energy to be an unbeliever. I suppose that’s why this lazy generation selects it so voraciously.

Oh, my dear God … I am weary beyond words of “Ducks” who seek a “Dynasty” by quacking out Bible verses, while simultaneously I have to listen to all that the gay have to say.

Am I odd? Am I so self-possessed that I must scream aloud that I don’t really care who’s zooming who, but rather, whether we are progressing in our talents while learning to drench them in humility?

I hate polls. The reason I hate polls is because the questions asked by the pollster can be twisted to bring desired results for his or her organization. And honestly, most people don’t have the common sense to listen to a question and admit, “What in the hell do I know?”

That goes for Tweets, too. We used to believe in this country that some forethought, emotion, concern, courtesy and gentleness should precede the next thing spoken. But when you have a I-Phone in front of you and you can pour out your vile reaction immediately, why take time for reflection?

It’s 2014, so it’s the Democrat’s turn to whine about how “things aren’t fair,” and the Republican’s hour to criticize everything that’s going on. Just ten years ago, the circumstances were flipped. The Republicans were the whiners and the Democrats were the attackers.

Is anyone bored yet? To me it’s similar to going to see The Sixth Sense movie for the second go-round. It was interesting the first time, but after you’ve viewed it, you know the guy’s dead from the beginning.

And when we’re talking about our “Yappy Your Year,” may I request that we discourage, ignore and possibly eliminate alarmed folks?

Case in point: would you just tell me that it’s going to rain and there will be thunder, instead of describing all the atrocities that Mother Nature could be perpetrating on my house this evening?

Would you instruct me to eat more vegetables without warning me how my present physical condition flirts with disaster and death?

And could you put a bill through Congress without having to promote that you are the savior of the world for coming up with the idea?

Which brings me to the final piece of yappiness–the only one I can really do anything about:

Me.

Yes, I need to shut up more.

• Even in my blogs, I’m pursuing brevity, dreaming of achieving wit.
• On stage, more concise.
• And unless I’m asked for it, I vow this year to not offer advice to anyone.

I’m too yappy–and words that do not edify eventually find a way to destroy.

So Happy New Year to you, my friends! And remember–talk is never cheap.

It is costly … often leaving our character bankrupt.

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Except… December 27, 2011

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Jonathan in Miami

Yesterday was the first time this year. 

 “Happy New Year!” someone called. It was jubilant, optimistic, caring and filled with good cheer. I liked it.

But it got me thinking. Forgive me for that–I spend a lot of time trying to think because when I don’t, I find myself just reacting, which drudges up memories of childhood disappointments, failures, misgivings and a few grudges I still hold against people who ended up being better than me. Yuk.

Thinking is better than reacting. And the thought that came to my head is this: the word “new,” in reference to the year, is only significant if we’ve actually dealt with our “old” things.  Here’s my contention: nothing is old as long as it still works. I, for instance, have just turned sixty years of age but I am not outdated, irrelevant or without a sense of history and an awareness of the present. So candidly, I don’t feel old, nor do those who meet me attribute any agedness to my persona.

Nothing really becomes old until it doesn’t work anymore. And honestly, calling something “new,” if it’s just warmed-over hash, is equally as useless. In that case, “new” is just the replacement for the old lightbulb in our brain that doesn’t work anymore. Because “old” is the acknowledgment that we are pursuing a way of living, a plan of action or a style of belief that just doesn’t work.

If we continue to cling to it, it becomes “cold.” I do meet some cold folks as I journey across this country! I would characterize them as looking me straight in the eye and saying, “I don’t care if it doesn’t work–I still like it!” I am not so sure what to call this particular mindset. The liberals would attribute it to the conservatives and they would certainly toss the hot potato back the other direction. But it is a chilly way to walk through our lives because we’re never enriched with the sensation of doing something that’s really successful, but rather, repeating traditions that leave us unfulfilled, while we insist that life is meant to be miserable and hard.

But I’ve even seen people change when they turn cold.  It’s all about the word “repent.” We don’t use it much because it sounds Biblical–and God knows, the less we quote the Bible and Shakespeare, the more likely we are to draw friends our way. But “repent” is when you  come across something that IS old and doesn’t work–and even though you stubbornly wish that it did, you soften your heart in a kind moment to consider a better option. Because if you don’t repent, what was old and didn’t work, which turned cold through your determination to do it anyway, can turn into “mold.”

And oh, this is where it gets really nasty. This is when old people who don’t have anything going on that’s working, become really frosty, insisting that they like it anyway, and then become aggressive and defend the failure.  Yes–mold is when you defend the failure and leave it hanging on the ceiling, even though you’ve heard it makes you sick.

It’s WHY we repent–because if we don’t, Jesus says we will perish.

I sat at breakfast yesterday morning with a spread put out by my son and daughter-in-law from Miami. Ham, Quiche, bagels–well, the list goes on. I had a half a ham sitting right in front of me, and being the weak glutton I tend to be, I peeled one slice and another off of that former porker. I have no power to restrain myself from devouring such a product. I walked out to my car–or perhaps, “rolled out” would be a better term–knowing that I had something old in my life.

Overeating. It doesn’t work. It makes my legs want to sue me for cruelty, my heart choke up with cholesterol and my sugar rise in protest.

I also had to admit that this year I had turned cold on the issue. I didn’t really care about my weight. I rather liked the process of enjoying food and hell to pay. Fortunately for me, I did stop short of mold and did not defend my failure at weight loss. So as I drove down the road toward Fort Myers, Florida, I decided to stop being cold and deal with the old year. And what made it old? As far as me getting leaner–it just didn’t work.

I’m not so sure I’m going to be a roaring success, but I do know this–I have identified the old. I am ready to repent, which will make room for the new. Because except we all do, we will begin to perish. And economic problems, bad politics and stagnant religion are merely symptoms of the disease of unwillingness to deal with our inadequacies.

Except you repent … Well, I guess that’s when you can add “Happy” to “New Year.” Because the old that didn’t work and the cold that caused us to insist we liked it, turning into the mold that enabled us to defend our failures, is suddenly exposed by turning a light on in the room. Now the question is–what do we do next?

For me, the first step is trying not to sit so close to ham.

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