New Survey about Cat Ownership

A few places in the World Gone Mad

Where did these commercials go? To where have they disappeared? Back when folks used things called VCR's, I would have a tape cassette in the recorder, timed out right, ready to record any good commercials so that I could watch and re-watch whenever I pleased. Now I figure...what's the point, right? Where has the creativity gone? have we run out of good stuff insise of a very short 15 year window?

Look at the commercials today? Are they intriguing? Do they cathc your attention? Why? Are they creative or do they use tricks and tactics and body parts to attract and retain your attention for 32-61 seconds? I would check myself, however I don't have cable or satellite...which might be a good thing with regards to the messages I receive on what's available today and how poor the programming has become.

I was listening to a song/message from an artist a couple days ago that was played at numerous high school graduation ceremonies until it died a few years back. It's just thi sguy giving decent advice with a good musical background. one of his statements were that when we get old, we'll fantacize of how when we were young, prices were low, politicians were noble, and children respected their elders. Ya' know what...he's right. I don't recall New York going from one senator/governor to another who has admittedly committed adultry while in public office. Does that mean it wasn't happening back then? Nope. We just didn't hear about it. Does that mean commubnication hasd gotten better, more elite, faster? Are we sneakier now because we can discover trash like that about people? Or were we more sneaky 15 years ago becuase politicians hid thier private life better?

I was talking to my lovely wife, Joyce, about the gas prices being 98 cents a gallon when I was growing up, and we as kids respected our parents and grandparents. Now they have psycho therapists for 4 and 5 year olds and the most common drug handed out on the market is riddlin, to middle schoolers. Why? Are they more hyper today then they were 20 years ago? Please!

So, before we start ripping out hair out, tearing our clothes to shreds, and weeping uncontrollably, might I suggest a nice hot, shot of espresso, and a few screenings of the following or preceding commercial to help soothe your wear mind and body in a World Gone Mad:

Peoplenip

I've had a Jones for Cinnamon lately. I don't get it. All the sudden on a Sunday afternoon my taste buds perk up and start chanting..."Red Hots, Red Hots, send some now! Send some now!" And I can think or focus on nothing else until I can scrounge around and find either red hots or Cinnamon bears...otherwise I go completely nuts, of course my wife would say that I act the same with or without the red hots...which is where we see things differently. I am afraid that I am addicted to cinnamon bears and red hots. I would say that it is hereditary because I recall my mother carrying in bags the size of me filled with red hots, and would frequently grab a handful as we watched ALF, but thought nothing of it at the time. So, barring that, I would say that it is in the genes, however, I recently read an article regarding cinnamon bears and red hots and the peoplenip that is injcted into each one in post production. Peoplenip is similar to cat nip, however it is tastless, odorless, and has no color, very much like IO9 powder used in the film, "The Princess Bride". It is virtually undetectable to all felines and humans who adore cats. I on the other hand would very much enjoy seeing a reality tv show about cats surviving the bitter cold of the freezer and blistering heat of a microwave and/or clothes dryer...I'm just sayin'.

"I Have The Power!"

I was sitting at Taco Bell yesterday, writing some notes and munching on some taco grindage when a group of about 7-8 kids walk through the door with two adults. I imagined they were from a pre-school or private daycare out on a lunchtime excursion during Spring Break. I return to my notes fumbling through the child chatter of what they were about to order. I recall my early days growing up and what excitement bubbled within as we would pull into a Burger King, McDonald's or Taco Bell for lunch or dinner. It was indeed a treat as my father was very cautious with how the family bones were spent...and did so in a healthy way. As a child, pretty much everything is huge! You slowly enter the aroma-filled restaurant with every kind of fat and grease still lingering in the air and your taste buds began to saliva while your stomach awoke and prepared for some food. You could just sense your stomach saying, "OK fellas, time to get up and around. Somethin out there smells good, and I got a feeling it's comin' this way. Fall in for roll call!" Of course this was prior to the government stepping into the restaurants and regulating how much taste they can actually offer to one individual before he or she sues because their is just too much fat on their plate. For shame...but that's a blog for another time.

I would step up to the counter and look at the broad menu which seemed to stretch for miles with all kinds of burgers, fries, and drinkies. A kind old lady behind the counter working her way through social security would welcome me with a big smile and ask me what I would like. I was a king, and she was taking orders for what I was about to feast upon.

These kids reflected the same excitement. They all placed their order and one of the adults escorted them to what seemed like the perfect place to them...just a couple of rows away from some crazy w. fatman attempting to get some work done. Let's be honest, what kind of poor, humble youth worker goes to a fast food restaurant to get some work done? Honestly? (You have to say it like Dr. Evil, otherwise...it just really isn't funny at all. And if you have no clue who Austin Powers is, then completely disregard the previous 2 sentences and move on)

The adult had yelled back to her colleague, as politely as possible as one could talk loud enough so that she could be heard from across the room, "If you want to bring the food, I'll get things started and we'll go ahead..." her words softer towards the end of her message, but it sounded like they were going to pray. All of the sudden, from a few rows away from me arose a small voice singing a prayer to Jesus. The entire restaurant went dead silent and all I could here were the fryers behind the counter and the scratches of my pen. I put the pen down, looked up, and sure enough...all eyes were drawn to this little girl and her innocent prayer to her Heavenly Father thanking him for the food and the day. Smiles slowly crept to the fellow patrons sitting and eating their entrees. "How Amazing" I thought to myself. The power of prayer, in the name of Jesus...and stopping people dead in their tracks, silencing all, amongst a World Gone Mad

Aah, the art of...wait a minute! Why is it an art?

I have checking accounts at two different banks, and believe me when I say that I am in no way bragging about that. I just simply have a hard time switching all of my auto-pay, auto-deducts from one account at one institution to my account at the other.

I was strolling up to the window at my credit union and rolled down the car window, popped out the capsule, slid in my check and deposit slip, placed it back into the vacuum...and waited. I changed the radio station a few times, popped in a cd, made a couple of personal notes...and to this point had received no greeting.

I look up to the window, but of course could not see through their reflective privacy glass...so it was as if I were looking at myself. This is wear I began to practice some patients...thinking to myself, well, there's a car in the other lane, I guess you could say they are...nope; that doesn't cut it. You can't say they're busy simply because there's another car there. Maybe the lady behind the counter was having a bad day. Although I believe it is part of their responsibility to check their personal problems at the door when they come in for work, because their job is all about us at that point...not about them, however, this course of thinking does not reflect an attitude which states that I should be handing out smiles to those who need them. I should be thinking about how I may be of service to others as my hero as exemplified throughout his life...not how can they serve me.

After another couple of minutes, I received the capsule back, a little cash, and my receipt along with a very short and quick, "Thank You" which to their own dismay, is what I have come to expect from this credit union. Afterwards, I take the dough over to my bank, stroll up to the window, slide the money in the capsule, press the button, and once again...begin to wait...patiently. Within 1 minute, I hear an angelic voice saying, "Welcome to Wells Fargo, my name is Angela, ...making a deposit today?"

With confusion draped across my face I reply, "Yup. That's it." A couple of moments later I hear the capsule coming through the flute and a voice very politely saying, "Thanks so much for visiting us today, you have a wonderful weekend." Again...remember I was at a bank. I drove away asking myself, "Where am I? In What Twilight Zone episode am I? Into What dimension did I accidentally fall? With money and receipt in hand I continued to drive away with the notion that perhaps the art of customer service is not dead, even though it should have never been considered an art form, but you rarely see it in the World Gone Mad.

Your son has what???

We hop in the car to get something to eat and right away he says, "Dad we gotta play our game!" I had to think for a moment as to which one it actually was. Then he follows with, "I spy...something Blue." Before I could answer he blurts out, "It's the sky. Ok, your turn Dad."

We went back and forth like that the whole way there. He'd start out saying what he saw, and then tell me what it was before I could get the opportunity to answer. I found it to be rather humerous and recall the game being played a tad different when I was growing up, but what do I care. The rules are less important then the players.



We hit the McD's, spread our arms like airplanes, and raced inside as if our lives depended on it. Right away he spots a friend of his from daycare, shouts his name, and runs to him with arms wide open, without thought to whom was around or what others would think of him. They hug like brothers and Nicki, my son, expressed how much he missed him (which is funny 'cuz I think this kid has only missed a couple of days...but as the song goes, who's counting?) All the Mcd's gals do their "awe" thing like girls do when they see something cute. I placed our order for nuggets, bbq sauce, fries, coke, and then one fo the workers, which must have been this kid's mother stepped out from behind the counter, walked over to me and began to tell me that it's not a good idea for Nicki to hug her son because he has strep throat and ahsn't been feeling too good.I thought o myself, "Well it's a good thing he is at home resting up where he is not contageous to the general public. I look over to check on Nick, and his 4 year old friend has his shirt lifted over his head, baring his chest, and in his loudest volume possible expresses how he can't go back to daycare until he gets rid of his ugly rash! That's about the point my facial expression of pride and joy for my son who is able to toss aside his fear of what other might think of him for hugging his friend turned into anguish for the mere thought of mile high doctor bills and a bed stricken four year old. Crap! Why does my son have to be so nice, and loving, and charitable? Why can't he be more like his mother?



(Kidding) I am ever so glad that my loving wife has dispensed hugely important qualities into the lives of our kids such as love, charity, and kindness towards others. And aside from the word RASH ringing over and over in my ears and thew thought that my youngest son had just bumped chests with this kid who has unfortunately been sick...spending time with Nicki for the few minutes we had together was undoubtedly the highlight of my day.



Is there someone you know that has been wanting to spend time with you? Is there a way for you to make that happen? What moveable obstacle is standing in your way?

"Box up your valuables" ???

I was on my way to the office this morning and as usual was thinking about the course of the day...all the important things, I had a good steak breakfast, did I rememer to pack my lunch? What were we having for dinner? Do I need to pick up more Black Forrest Gummie Bears...ya' know, all the important stuff. I turned to look at a sign which read, "Box up your valuables where they can be safe. Rent a lock box today!"

I thought to myself...interesting. I had never had a lock box before. I've never known anyone who has owned/rented a lock box at a bank...at least not that they have mentioned. I had seen them numerous times in spy movies and bank robbing movies. I often thought it would be neat to have one, carry in a big brown leather-bound bag with a few dollar bills peaking out of the top (with the rest of it full of phone books and newspaper - to make it look like I had a large sum of cash - just to mess with their heads. It's good for 'em, trust me) But alas, io have never opted to rent one. The sign got me thinking. Valuables? What is valuable to me?

What is valuable to you? For me, in terms of the physical realm, obviously we need at least a little money to purchase goods and services - the basic necesseties of food, clothing, shelter...but that which is most valuable to me I could not fit into one of those little things. I value my wife, my kids, my family, and my friends, and above all...my relationship with my God. HE tells us in the scriptuires to store our treasures in heaven, not here on earth in some lock box, which isn't to say that it's a bad idea to rent one for certain reasons and things which you do not want lost or stolen...I can understand that as much as the next minister. The point is that the bible teaches us to store our treasures where moth and dust can not destroy and where thieves can not break in and steal...for where our treasure is...there will our heart be also.

There is nothing wrong with having stuff, or a safe place in which to keep it, but if your main focus is on your stuff rather than your relationships and most importantly your relationship with God, then it is most definately time to re-evaluate your priorities...and I would do it quickly before you become consumed by your stuf, at which point you may very well be adding to the problems of The World Gone Mad.

I just wasn't thinking...

The Komets were playing at the Coliseum this past weekend, and I thought to myself..."Self, did you not have a great time when you went to see a hockey game as a kid?" Absolutely! I asked my two oldest boys, ages 11, and 6, if they wanted to go see a hockey game, somethin different than renting a movie or playing a vid game..."Sure," they said with a spark in their voice. I thought, sweet! Some Father/son time...just them and I...a night with some greasy - not good for you, full of fat and carbs and sugar-type food with some sugary soda to chase it all down while we watch tough guys battle it on the ice...who wouldn't want to go?

We stopped at Rally's before heading to the coliseum - smart move on my part if I do say so myself. They do have the best fries known to mankind! We got burgers, fries, and cokes, and then it was off to the big game. I recall as a kid the long walk from the parking lot to some huge building, and then waiting in line to get our tickets, and then walking up some huge ramp, I mean orka huge, bigger than Brad's mom type huge, and when we finally got to our seat, we shed the jacket and cheered, screamed, yelled, jumped up and down - I didn't really know why, I was just a kid being a kid at the time. What did I know?

It was great to have those memories come rushing back as we entered the coliseum, picked up our tickets, and found our seat. I was enthused by their expressions throughout the beginning ceremonies and their excitement for our team...it was very cool for me to be there while they experienced everything for the first time. I can imagine our heavenly Father taking pleasure in seeing us enjoy something pure and rich and good, for the first time. HE must be enthused to see our excitement rise as our senses are triggered - sights and smells, and the memories made.

Speaking of which, I think I may have goofed, and will hopefully be forgiven. You see, i am far from a rich guy. I'm luck y to be able to spell the word, "wealthy". I am, but a poor humble podcaster and thus attempt to be rather conservative in our spending...not a penny pincher by any means, but I certainly hate to waste money on things I see of no value...just for the sake of buying something 'cuz I have money in my pocket...'sss just how I am. Here's where I made the mistake: The game ended, Komets, our team, won 5 to 2. Victory tasted very good. We grab our stuff and off to the exit we headed. On the way out, Christopher, 6 yrs old, asked if we could get a hat. I thought of myself, we have plenty of hats at home that he never wears, why would he want another? Of course I replied, "I don't think so, bud. You got hats at home that you never wear." His face drained of enthusiasm a wee bit, and I took it as just a disappointment that he didn't get me to buy anything.

He asked again, "Well, Dad, can we get something? A shirt? Something?" I thought...why? Why do we need to buy anything? He's had some ice cream, a soda while there at the game, we had some Rally's earlier...why do we need to spend more money? So, of course I stated my position again, "Chris, we don't need to spend more money. We're good. We've had fries, ice cream...we're good." I didn't hear him ask for anything else on the way to the car.

We hopped in and headed for home. The boys we're out like a light within minutes leaving just me, the radio, and my imagination. And then it hit me. I felt like such a moron. He had this poster that salespeople were just handing out for free as we walked into the arena, and Chris really wanted one, so I grabbed it and then he hung onto it, which inevitably meant that I would be hanging on to it. I though to myself, can't we just pitch this thing? I don't want to be carrying this around the rest of the evening. I figured that if I ask him to carry his own poster, then he'll eventually pitch it out of exhaustion of carrying around this thing. I was wrong. It never left his sight...or his hands. He held on to that free poster for dear life. Just like I held on to the one I received nearly 20 years ago at my first hockey game. I am a moron. Why did I not see it earlier?

He wasn't trying to get me to spend money. He only wanted to get something else by which he could remember the evening he spent with 'ol Dad and his brother at the hockey game. Looking back, it wouldn't have cost but maybe $10-$15 dollars...but oooh no! I had to be ever so frugal. I just wasn't thinking.

So, as a bit of advice from someone with fantastically clear hindsight who screws up on a regular basis: If you are the one looking for a souvenir, don't be too upset at the one with the money if they tell you, "NO." They are simply thinking about saving a little money.

And if you're the one with the money, who's got a couple of guys asking you to part with a small amount, it's ok to save, but don't be TOO frugal...they are just looking for something to help them remember that special day in the World Gone Mad.

Clutter

I remember time and again as a little guy walking into my Dad's office and seeing a mound of paperwork covering what at one time had resembled a desk of some type upon which one would conduct work, but you really couldn't tell it was a desk. It reminded me of our excercise equipment that has now turned into furniture...you know what I'm talkin' about! You buy it in January with every intention on using it at least three to four times a week and by February it now holds three pairs of pants, a couple shirts, and your favorite hoodie.

I absolutely hate clutter. Let me say that again for it bears repeating...I absolutely hate clutter. It drives me insane. It is increasingly difficult for me to concentrate when there is a great deal of clutter surrounding me. I can actually feel it crawling towards me and it actually sucks the oxugen out of the air making it hard to breath or even speak. Before I know it, it grabs me by the leg and drags me to the bottom of its depths like an alligator and rolls me around until I stop moving and gasping for air.

We are all attacked, each and every day by advertising clutter, music clutter, sound and video clutter, which can make it hard if not impossible to concentrate on what's important, or as they say in the 'ol country (Italy) Importare'. The clutter interrupts our thoughts, our mind, and can literally destroy our concentration. It detours our focus from where it needs to be...which is on God.

The more clutter we have in our daily lives, the more destracted we become until we come to a point where God is covered up by our clothing and the Bible has been burried under mounds of paperwork. We neglect to spend time in the word because we have fooled ourselvwes into believing that we have so much to do. Because we never shut off the radio, tv, or ipod, we never spend time in silence and being still, and wanting to hear HIS voice. And listen for his direction.

May I offer a suggestion? or a challenge? And if you're not up for something that may very well be the hardest thing you have ever had to do...then click away and read not further.

If you are serious about wanting to clear away some of the daily clutter that disrupts your focus from your Lord, and my Lord...then shut off the TV, and the radio, and the ipod, and the dvbd player. Find a quiet place in your house...and sit. Close your eyes. Relax. And listen. For 5 whole minutes. It may even change your life...if you allow HIM to. Do this, and it could give you a whole new perspective on this World Gone Mad.

Who provides for you?

I was in my car on the way home from a weary day. My legs and eyes were heavy with a lack of sleep, and late nights. You see I had not been sleeping well due to some financial woes which were keeping me up and we were really feeling the squeeze on the 'ol wallet. I was thinking to myself, "What am I gonna' do?"

So there I am, in the car, cruising along, trying to stay awake and stay in one lane of traffic repeating the question, "What do I do?" and the statement which followed, "I gotta provide for my family!"

All the sudden it hit me. The question had changed. It was as if Jesus himself was sitting in the back seat tapping me on the shoulder and saying, "Pardon me sir, I didn't quite catch that last phrase. Would you mind repeating it for me please."

I said it again. "I gotta' provide for my family.

And then I pictured him in the back seat, looking at my tired eyes in the mirror and saying,

"Now let me get this straight, my child. Who is it that provides for you?"

I felt like pulling over the car, hopping out onto the side and balling my eyes out. I had been seriously mistaken and paid for it with many nights of lost sleep (not to mention all the fresh, tasty espresso that did me no good) It was my fault. I was trying to carry a burden that God never intended for me to do in the first place.

Again, I pictured my Lord in the back asking me, "Now who is it that provided you with a home, a shelter, a roof over your head?"

I sheepeshly replied, "It was you, Lord. Thank you for reminding me."

"And refresh my memory, but who was it that introduced you to your lovely wife?" I pictured him asking...

"No one else but you, oh Lord."

"And would you be willing to tell me who gave you those three little healthy bambinos? Who keeps the clothes on their back? and the food in your fridge? and the Black Forrest Gummie bears in your lower right desk drawer?" (I didn't know he knew about the bears. Now I gotta' share 'em)

Again I would reply with, "It was always you, Lord. You have given me every good relationship and possession that I have."

With tears in my eyes, even now as I write this entry, I sat there as I felt him say, clear as a bell..."What makes you think...I would not continue to provide for you now?"

I sank deeper into my chair as those words bellowed over and over in my head. Apart from HIM, Jesus Christ, my Lord and savior, I am nothing, and I have nothing. It is only because of HIM and his loving mercy to forgive all the stupid stuff I have done in my life, that I have been blessed with positive, uplifting and encouraging relationships with friends, and more importantly my own kids, and especially my loving wife. I would have none of that to worry about if it were not for HIS grace. Thus there is no need to worry...God has only asked me to be a loving husband to my wife, a loving father to my kids, a good son, brother, and friend to those around me, except for cats. Jesus asked us a long time ago to cast all our cares upon HIM, and he would do the rest. I needn't worry about how to continue providing for them, even in the most dire of circumstances...as they say in the union...'SSS not my job. God has asked me to simply manage my relationships and my stuff as best as I possibly can and in a manner that reflects his love toward us and glorifies HIM, and HE will take care of all the complicated stuff.

Perhaps God placed me in that situation to remind me that it is HE who takes care of me, and provides for me and my loved ones. Maybe he placed me in that situation to tell this story becuase I am not the only person out there who stays awake at night wondering how to keep the heat on in the winter, or keep the roof over our heads, or keep food in the fridge...and that by this story you might be blessed and reminded that none of it is ours anyway, we're to simply manage it the best we can until our next assignment rather than try to take over control and worry about anything and everything which would be nothing more than a waste of our energy and time in a World Gone Mad.