Sit Down Comedy …February 8th, 2019

Jonathots Daily Blog


The Alphabet of Weight Loss

A  need for change

B  uy it

C  ry it

D  iet

E  Gads, this sucks

F  ry it

G  ain it

H  ate it

I   am looking pregnant

J   esus, take the spoon and fork!

K  ale fail

L  ose, then cruise

M unch

N  estles

O  no, here we go

P  oints

Q  ueasy

R  unning

S  lipping

T  urnover (apple)

U  are not the biggest loser

V  itamins

W eird, it is

X  tra weight hiding

Y   is my scale lying?

Zzz I need a napDonate Button

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3 Things… March 22nd, 2018

Jonathots Daily Blog


To Do When You’re Trying to Lose Weight and Suddenly Become Convinced That You’re Hungry

1. Drink.

Water, tea, cola–some sort of fluid. Eight ounces. Don’t chug, but drink it down in less than two minutes. Fills space in your stomach.

2. Change your location.

Leave the room, depart the house, take a nap, go to bed early. The brain changes with your whim and motion.

3. Tell the person with you that you are struggling.

Talk. Speech relieves the instinct to eat because it uses the mouth. If you’re alone, pick up your phone.


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3 Things… December 28th, 2017

Jonathots Daily Blog



To Remember Going into the New Year

1. Stop calling it stress. It’s just life.


2. Charge yourself 3 dollars an hour for watching TV, movies and Internet programming. Then take one-half of that money and give it to charity, and the other half put in your retirement fund.


3. Take a nap. It’s better than exercise.

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Jesonian: Pillow and Little Ships … October 25th, 2015

 Jonathots Daily Blog


Three faces

The Bible is not meant to be a story, but rather, a script.

When we approach the Good Book as a story, we end up isolating off a few verses without considering what comes before or after.

When you look at it as a script, you can study what motivates the scene of our story, and also what the outcome ends up being.

In Mark the 4th Chapter, Jesus spends all day teaching on three distinct subjects. It’s important to know this in understanding the story that follows. It helps us to comprehend the mindset of our protagonist, Jesus, as he encountered the elements of the unfolding of our script.

Here are the three points Jesus made to his disciples all day long:

  1. “If you don’t sow seeds, nothing happens.”
  2. “Since you’re going to be sowing seeds, learn the process by which things grow.”
  3. “Understand that what you’ve been given is a responsibility to prepare you to use it well, to be given more.”

So when nightfall comes, Jesus is tired and heads for the boat to go to the other side. The disciples follow him and other folks also decide to make the journey, but their ships are not quite as big. Matter of fact, they are referred to as “little ships.”

Jesus doesn’t stop them. Instead, Jesus grabs a pillow and heads for the stern to take a nap.

Although I think it’s important to consider “what would Jesus do?” in our everyday lives, it is much more effective to notice what Jesus is already doing.

Any astute disciple should have registered that Jesus had taught all day about taking responsibility for your life and that he was heading into the ship to take a nap, while lodging no objection about other tinier vessels traveling alongside.

Did Jesus know there was going to be a storm? Possibly so, since the sky usually foretells of such things.

What was Jesus communicating to his disciples? It’s clear to me.

Sometimes God would like to take a nap.

And since we’ve been well-trained, well-taught, and by the way, several of us are fishermen, we should be able to handle a storm.

We should also notice that Jesus is sleeping without any fear for the smaller ships which would be in much more danger from the upheaval.

I believe Jesonian faith is doing what we can, knowing that God is responsible for the rest.

But the storm rages and the disciples do what ungrateful souls always do. They wake Jesus up and accuse him of not caring. “Don’t you care that we’re perishing?”

Please understand this–if the big ship is in trouble, the little ships must be in jeopardy also, but the disciples don’t have much concern about them.

Jesus is pissed off. Even though he calms the waves, he rebukes the disciples for having no faith.

Where did their faith fail?

  • They didn’t take responsibility for what they had just heard and learned.
  • They didn’t notice that Jesus was communicating complete confidence by taking a nap on a pillow.
  • They didn’t understand that Jesus would not let the other littler ships suffer.

They thought they were being faithful by being overly dependent. And Jesus told them it was actually the opposite.

They had little faith.

What do I learn from this?

After Jesus teaches me and trains me to be a born-again human being, he just might grab a pillow and expect me to guide us through a storm … and take care of the little ships.

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Running out of Gas(tonia) … December 3, 2012


Mewhat I think I can do.

Mywhat I actually can do.

Minewhere I end up doing it.

Always remember: frustration is the residue from unrealistic expectation. There are certainly human maladies that cannot be healed by a change of attitude, but frustration and despair certainly are self-induced–because we have overestimated our self-worth.

I experienced that this weekend. Even though I find myself in a wheelchair, the rest of the world is not so bound nor inclined to be terribly sympathetic. Stairs are everywhere, walking is a must and weakness is viewed with pity instead of admiration.

So when I looked at my schedule and realized that I had three shows to do from Saturday evening through Sunday afternoon, which would include three separate set-ups, tear-downs and travel from place to place through the countryside of North Carolina, it seemed feasible in my mind because my brain temporarily became confused and thought I was twenty-two again.

I am not. I am healthy and still strong but require supplements of relaxation and naps to fuel the engine. I had none of those this week-end.

So it came down to whether I would be able to fulfill my mission and do justice to the lovely people who had gathered to hear what I have to offer. Fortunately, I learned a lesson many years ago–really, a very simple formula for success. Let me lay it out for you in three steps:

  1. Trim your self-worth.
  2. Multiply your talents.
  3. Go the second mile.

One of our biggest problem as human beings is that we over-exaggerate our abilities and don’t adequately compare them to the greater talents of others. It’s a mistake. In the pursuit of having confidence, which our culture touts as an essential for possessing fruitfulness, we end up with an inventory of our particular attributes and abilities that is far beyond reality. Trim your self-worth.

It doesn’t hurt to play down what you can do, because exceeding your promised package is only pleasing to other people. For instance, I was so happy on Saturday night when our sponsor told me that she was “really anticipating a great show–but this evening exceeded my expectations.”  Aha. There you go.

Now, here’s the double punch. Once you trim your self-worth, then start working on multiplying your talents to bring some surprises to those around you, who felt that maybe you had reached your limit. When I rolled up to the church Sunday morning, there were six steps to get into the sanctuary, with no ramp for my wheelchair whatsoever. The dear-hearted pastor of the church was wondering if they were going to need to carry me up the stairs. Since I have no Caesar complex, I rose from my wheelchair and ascended the tiny mountain on my own, with the aid of the sturdy handrail. They didn’t know I could do that–but it was a talent I needed for that moment and have worked to maintain for just such an occasion.

You have to multiply your talents or you become so predictable that humanity just might find you boring and then you could be silly and become offended.

Finally, there is a place we think we should be, but it is never where we end up. Even though I worked really hard this weekend, I found myself in front of about 150 to 200 people. A case could be made that I could have encountered more folks simply by setting up my equipment at the Kannapolis bus station. But since that was neither available nor even a pleasant thought, I ended up where I ended up. I don’t resent it. I don’t wish I was somewhere else. I don’t feel slighted. I feel blessed to have anybody give an ear to my thoughts.

Because of that, I can come in and give those people a show I would be proud to put on Broadway or network television. It is my second mile. I never perform for the size of the room. I always perform for the size of my faith.

You will find yourself running out of gas even in Gastonia, North Carolina if you get your “me, my and mine” out of whack. But if you take the time to trim your self-worth as you multiply your talents, accept where life has sent you and go the second mile, you not only will be valuable to the world around you, but you will be endowed with a giddy feeling of satisfaction–such as fills my soul on this morning.

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Friday, It Better Be Good… April 6, 2012


6:41 A.M. I wake up and realize it’s time to take a shower–and in the midst of my thick-headedness, I step into the enclosure and immediately drop the bar of soap, having to bend down and pick it up, which is followed by two identical droppings. Three times–bending down in the shower to pick up my bar of soap. Why can’t I hold on to the slippery little booger?

Meanwhile, Jesus is carted off and then ridiculed in front of King Herod and his court because he refuses to do miracles as parlor tricks for their amusement.

7:21 A.M. I find it difficult to enjoy my breakfast because I only have two strips of turkey bacon. Even though it’s a decision of my own making, I’m a bit aggravated because several days ago I allowed myself four strips. Honestly, four strips would not kill me. It’s just that in the pursuit of trying to lose some weight, I felt it was a simple area to cut back on. It doesn’t feel simple today. It feels like someone stripped me of my bacon.

Simultaneously, Jesus is unceremoniously returned to Pontius Pilate because he failed to gain the approval of King Herod. The religious leaders, lacking footing for their charges, decide to accuse him of sedition against the Roman government in order to gain the attention of the single-minded governor. There is no truth to their statement, but as is often the case with those who have a “political mind,” the mere whiff of impropriety frightens him.

8:30 A.M.  My right knee is sore. It’s sore because I’ve been exercising to try to achieve a status in which my right knee will cease to be sore. So what is the purpose of exercising to make your knee stronger, if in the short run it makes it more sore, which makes you want to exercise less? It may be the true definition of a defeated purpose.

Baffled as to what to do, Pontius Pilate makes a decision to whip Jesus thirty-nine times with a cat-o-nine tails to satisfy the blood-thirsty nature of his enemies, without completely draining the life from his body.

9:51 A.M. I open up my Outlook Express to discover that I have no emails from friends and family today. I do not understand why they forsake me, considering that I am faithful to write them each and every week. Would it kill them to put down a few words or send along some niceties? Or just type in my email address and claim they forgot to include a message? I do not understand why people are the way they are. It doesn’t mean I don’t like them. I don’t think it’s mean to lack understanding. I think it’s kind of mean to not send an email to somebody as cool as me.

Following typical human logic (which lacks any true merit) the decision on the fate of a young man from Nazareth who preached love and healed the sick is left in the hands of a howling mob which has been paid off to yell the correct phrase: “Crucify him!”

11:32 A.M. I just realized I left two things in the van that I need–and it’s also laundry day. These are in two different directions. It’s not that I’m lazy. It’s just that I’ve reached an age where I like to economize my efforts. Also, I’ve been exercising and my knee is sore. And more walking will just make it sorer, right? So I’m going to take a few moments to figure out how I can lessen my activity without coming across as perniciously unmotivated–and still get the two things out of the car I need and also help out with the laundry. Maybe if I think long enough Janet will get tired of the delay and do it for me.

A night without food. A night without water. A severe beating and numerous verbal and physical attacks. A beam is placed on the back of Jesus of Nazareth as he is commanded to climb up the Via Dolorosa to his position of death. It’s too much. He falls under the weight of the cross. He feels humiliated that he’s unable to man up to the moment. Another is called to bear his load as he stumbles his way to his execution.

12:21 P.M. I open up my cupboard. Lunchtime. And I realize that several days ago I purchased the wrong soup for lunch. I was looking for some sort of chicken soup, but ended up with an anemic chicken noodle that tastes like you hosed down a hen in the coop. Suck.

Jesus is nailed to the cross and in the midst of the initial burst of agonizing pain, he speaks to those who will hear and says, “Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they are doing.”

1:41 P.M.  Jan drank all the diet Coke and all that’s left is diet Sprite. Do you think I’m being picky to be upset about this? There’s plenty of diet Sprite. Of course–because it’s NOT diet Coke. I don’t want diet Sprite, but I don’t want to fight with her about it. That would make me seem small. So I pour myself a cup of water, which I really don’t want, so I don’t have to drink diet Sprite, which would make me mad because she drank all the diet Coke.

At this point, nailed to the cross, having lost nearly a third of his blood, he is plagued by a nagging thirst. With a dry, parched throat, he rasps out to the surrounding guards, “I am thirsty.”

2:22 P.M.  Taking a few moments to check out the television shows available, nothing looks good. There is a Law and Order episode available but I’ve seen it too many times. Daytime talk shows and HBO has its crappiest movies on. So many television shows, so little potential. And all I want is a bit of entertainment to pass the time.

In the midst of the agony of dying, a companion on a cross nearby asks for grace in the upcoming realm of the afterlife. Jesus takes a moment from his own concerns and tells the young fellow that “this day you will be with me in Paradise.”

2:59 P.M.  Television is a bust. It’s not time to do my next project. I’ve already completed my other work. I can’t eat any more because I’ve used up all my calories for mid-day, so I allow myself the grace of becoming bored, which soon leads to believing I’m tired, as I settle down on my pillow and give in to a delicious nap.

Back on the cross, Jesus has lost all energy to lift himself up to gather a breath. His chest is heaving; his muscles are cramping. Right before his heart explodes from all the pressure, he says, “It is finished.” And into the Father’s hands he commends his spirit. He is dead. He is alone.


Thank you, Lord, for saving my soul. Why? So I can be petty, trivialize important things and search for reasons to be dissatisfied? Maybe someday, because you died with such dignity, I will finally live long enough to learn how to take my cushy, relaxed and privileged life … and make a difference.


Below is the first chapter of Jonathan Richard Cring’s stunning novel entitled Preparing a Place for Myself—the story of a journey after death. It is a delicious blend of theology and science fiction that will inspire and entertain. I thought you might enjoy reading it. After you do, if you would like to read the book in its entirety, please click on the link below and go to our tour store. The book is being offered at the special price of $4.99 plus $3.99 shipping–a total of $8.98. Enjoy.

Sitting One

 I died today. 

I didn’t expect it to happen.  Then again, I did—well, not really.

No, I certainly didn’t expect it.

I’ve had moments of clarity in my life.  Amazingly enough, many of them were in the midst of a dream. For a brief second I would know the meaning of life or the missing treatment to cure cancer.  And then as quickly as it popped into my mind it was gone. I really don’t recollect dying.  Just this unbelievable sense of clear headedness—like walking into a room newly painted and knowing by the odor and brightness that the color on the wall is so splattering new that you should be careful not to touch it for fear of smearing the design. The greatest revelation of all? 

Twenty-five miles in the sky time ceases to exist.

The planet Pluto takes two hundred and forty-eight years to circle the sun. It doesn’t give a damn. 

The day of my death was the day I became free of the only burden I really ever had.  TIME.


Time is fussy.  Time is worry. 

Time is fear.  Time is the culprit causing human-types to recoil from pending generosity. 

There just was never enough time. 

Time would not allow it.  Remember—“if time permits …”

Why if time permits?  Why not if I permit?  Why not if I dream?  Why not if I want?  Why does time get to dictate to me my passage? 

It was time that robbed me of my soulful nature.    It was time that convinced me that my selfishness was needed. 

I didn’t die. The clock in me died, leaving spirit to tick on.  

So why don’t we see the farce of time?  Why do we allow ourselves to fall under the power of the cruel despot?  Yes, time is a relentless master—very little wage for much demand.

I died today. 

Actually … a piece of time named after me was cast away.

Make My Day… December 30, 2011


Jonathan in Miami

It all really boils down to three hours and where you decide to plant that 180 minutes of fertile possibility. Because even though there are twenty-four hours in the day, we all know that those passing moments are not within our grasp and care. Failure to realize this causes us to procrastinate and end up frustrated and fretful.

No, it ends up being about three hours. And I find that people make one of two choices on that matter–they either choose their three hours of sanctified time late at night or early in the morning. If they choose it late at night, kind of following the pattern of a college student, they usually wake up pretty groggy and a bit wasted until mid-day. If they choose it early in the morning, they may lose some of the glittering promise of the nighttime glitz, but wake up fresher and more ready to go.

Here’s how it breaks down for me (and I must caution you that my lifestyle is not yours, nor are my particular preferences perhaps to your liking. The goal of this particular essay is to just get both of us to agree that twenty-four hours do pass by, leaving us only a small window for our own personal use.)

I usually get up about six o’clock in the morning–so six o’clock to nine o’clock becomes what I call MINE. There aren’t a whole lot of people vying for appointments or interfering. I can get up, enjoy myself, write my jonathots, send out some personal emails to friends and family, plan my day, have breakfast and pretty well do what I want to without intrusion. I always start off my day by being silly. I do it on purpose. I sing silly songs, say silly things and even think about silly matters. I believe the brain needs a chance to flush out all of yesterday’s fussiness before it starts trying to take on today’s sufficiency. You may find that childish. (Of course, my morning habits are completely irrelevant to you unless you happen to find yourself hanging around my presence at about six o’clock in the morning.)

I have breakfast–not because I believe it’s the most important meal of the day–but because it’s a chance to eat, which I have never found to be unpleasant. I know that about nine o’clock, humanity will start teeming around me and I will need to be ready to interact with folks. So I refer to the time between nine and twelve o’ clock as OURS. Emerging from MINE, I proceed into OURS. My goal is to have enjoyed myself so much during my previous three hours that I’m ready, decent and welcoming enough to deal with my fellow-human-beings.

From twelve to three o’clock every day I enter a phase I call RESTFUL. I separate myself off, have a meal, talk to a few friends on the phone and even slide in a small nap. I have had six hours of private time and interaction with people and I would like to give my heart, soul, mind and strength a chance to absorb the blessings or survive the ordeal.

From three to six o’clock I RE-ENGAGE. I like that time of day–a second burst of energy, a chance to do a trailing project that didn’t end up making my early-morning list, and just a delicious opportunity to finish the day on a high note instead of a discordant one.

From six to nine o’clock at night, I RELAX. I try not to take on anything that’s too important unless I happen to be doing a gig. And even if I am in front of an audience, I find that the relaxed profile does me–and them–well.

And then about nine o’clock, as I’m moving towards bedtime (always before twelve), I enter a precious position of power I call THANKFUL. Too many people spend the last moments of their day upset over what has happened or worried about what will happen. I become thankful. It’s interesting–thankful always makes me sleepy, because as my heart opens up in generosity to the goodness of God and life, my tension disappears and rest comes easy. And that’s usually what I do–from about twelve to about six in the morning, I rest. Since I’m getting older, that solitude is occasionally interrupted by the need to trot off to a bathroom. Or an inspiration may strike my fancy about a jonathots I could write. But usually it’s a very restful time because I have ended my day with thankfulness.

And that’s how I make my day. I recommend portions of it to you, as you’re able to apply it, because trying to grab your private time late at night can make you nasty in the morning, and trying to squeeze some self-worth into hours after work can be hectic and unfulfilling. For me, six o’clock to nine o’clock in the morning is MINE. Nine o’clock to twelve noon is OURS. Twelve noon to three o’clock P. M. is RESTFUL.  Three  to six o’clock  P. M. is ENGAGED. Six to nine at night is RELAXED. And nine until I go to sleep is THANKFUL.

Time passes quickly, my dear friends, and when you really only have three hours a day to grab for your own, it’s a good idea to invest wisely.


Jonathan wrote the gospel/blues anthem, Spent This Time, in 1985, in Guaymas, Mexico. Take a listen:


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