OBESE PETS -- SKINNY POOR PEOPLE

I dare you to take me for a walk.  I'm still hungry, so there!


Well, here are my thoughts for you, dear fat, over-fed, over-stuffed spoiled, ugly, wrinkled, pug-nosed slug.
I only feed people, the hungrier the better.  So read my true feelings right there under your dripping, sniveling nose.

I HAVE THOUGHTS ABOUT PETS

Today, as  I was out and about
As opposed to in and around
I felt that I would at once expound
About pets and not leave a doubt
In any one's mind as to where I stand.

I tell you now what I observed
With jaundiced eye quite cynical
With opinion close to clinical
That doggie’s health is far from served
Living at the end of an ever feeding hand.

A small dog it should have been
Who now, could only waddle,
For an obese dog, the perfect model.
Sad, this dog who should be lean
Lives with a human and not in a pack.

I share the planet with God given beasts,
The four quadrants of the earth they roam.
As for me, I stay close to home
With humans to celebrate my feasts,
mourn my pains, struggle to stay on track.

For company, it is to humans I speak,
Not dogs, cats, birds, fish or snakes.
When I share eggs, toast or flakes
A hungry man, woman or child I seek
Rather than a beast that cannot talk.

Furthermore, when human friends eat
They see to it that when nature calls
They respond before the residue falls
All the while remaining discreet
Without my needing to take them for a walk.

As for animals, I only take them for a wok.

You've read me say that before.

BEAT THE CARPET -- HOUSEHOLD CHORES -- 1940'S

This is going to be fun.  It is born of a Saturday, so it owes its gestation period to those rare moments when your blogger was actually deeply devoted to the great "Honey Do" chore of the day.  About which more, after I finish what the Voice from the Kitchen assigned for the day.
The cartoon is something that came up on Google.  You would not believe what you get from Google when you ask for "Beat the Carpet."  This is the only thing that came up with a person about to do the task that was so common in the '40's...when I was growing up.  There are a lot of pictures of people vacuuming and all sorts of similar things, but just this one lame  cartoon that depicts what the actual exercise is all about.  We did have carpets in our house.  Mostly they were more like what we would call today, "scatter rugs" or "area carpets."  Nothing that could ever compare to Persian rugs, of course.  Those were for people who were not like us.  They were either rich or "Pêtent plus haut que le trou."  [Sorry, no translation available.  Remember what I said about the value of being a polyglot?]  Roughly, it means that if they weren't rich and they had a Persian rug, they had forgotten their roots.
Anyway, this was also the time that you had linoleum of varying quality, surface design and price per square foot depending on the room in which it was installed.  Once again, some slightly luckier, or more economically favored families had a room or more of polished hardwood floors.  More that likely with high traffic areas protected by a Persian rug!  You see, the carpets that I beat were Sears & Roebuck quality, if you get my meaning.  Not only that, but if you consult Google you will see some pictures of real carpet beaters.  The tool, not the person doing the beating.  Once again, who needed one of those?  Only those same PPHqlT people who didn't want the neighbors to see that they were using the handle from a worn out broom instead.  
I got all these thoughts and memories flooding back to me this morning as I was cleaning the family transportation per the desires expressed by you know whom.  Yes, I used a whisk broom to clean the inside floor, not a vacuum cleaner and I beat the floor mats to make sure that they were more deeply cleaned than the broom could do.  See, we've forgotten our roots too...we have fuzzy, quasi carpet floor mats in a six year old, 136,000 miles, $12,000 car!  Paid in full.  
By the way, let me show you what else I found when I searched for "Beat the Carpet."  Now this is what I want to try.  I wonder how much it costs?  Do I have to go to Siam for this kind of carpet?  If I do, I'll give it some thought so that I can really be a true PPHqlT!

I want one.  Imagine the fuel savings.  What do they do in the rain?

THE TROLL GOT ME

BELIEVE IT OR NOT,
trolls exist.  One stole my post just as I pushed the "Publish" button.  I lost everything and nothing from the last 8 hours remains on the Google Blogspot and recoverable.  So, if I get back in the mood over the next day or two, I will go back and try to reconstruct what I created for this "Thought."  It was entitled, "Wattage, or was it What-age?"  It was both humorous and erudite with some esoteric excogitations that escaped unfettered from my cerebral synapses.  It's all the machinations of the creature on the left.  I kid you not.  I now leave you to your own devious devices while I throw myself into the amorphous embrace of my dear Morpheus.  Hopefully I will be able to drown my shivering disappointment in the sensuous comfort of my comforter cocoon.
I'm surprised that I am not punching holes in the wall.  We'll be back tomorrow.  I just thank God that it is a glitch with the Internet Provider and not my own machine.  So maybe that's why I am so cool.

GOD'S WORD -- HE HAS A SENSE OF HUMOR!

WHERE ARE YOU?

I have had some of these thoughts for a long time, so I figure that I may as well spring them loose on you.  I am sure that there are some among you who read the Bible now and then.  Just as I do.  I have to admit that there are certain parts of the Bible that make me smile.  Sometimes even an audible snort escapes.  Does the author of the Bible books intend humor?  Many very deeply intellectual people have written important documents on the subject.  The consensus is that though the Bible is not meant to be a humorous presentation, it does have a lot of low key, subtle humor.  The problem that most of us have is that we do not understand Hebrew.  That takes away our ability to appreciate the puns and the sarcasms and other forms of humor that are undoubtedly there.  My feel for Bible humor is more along the lines of comparing our beliefs about God and others and some of the sayings and actions that we read about.  I therefore invite you to try to see the humor in some of the following passages.

1. Genesis 3;9 - The LORD God then called to the man and asked him, "Where are you?"  'Scuse me?  You don't know where we are?  Hmmm...

2.  Genesis 8;1 - "and then God remembered Noah and all the animals, wild and tame, that were with him in the ark."  So, you just now remembered?  Thank you, Lord God.

3. Joshua 2;1-2 -- Then Joshua, son of Nun, secretly sent out two spies from Shittim, saying, "Go, reconnoiter the land and Jericho." When the two reached Jericho, they went into the house of a harlot named Rahab, where they lodged.  So, where else would soldiers go for a warm meal and a soft bed? Hmmm... [By the way, Rahab did help.  She saved their lives and changed hers.  She is in the Genealogy of Jesus in Matthew]

4. Judges 4; 1-8 -- Deborah the sitting Judge calls for Barak and tells him that Yaweh will help him to win a battle.  He is to go and get it done.  His response is: ... "If you come with me, I will go; if you do not come with me, I will not go." Real brave commander, eh?  Catch the name?  It means "Lightning." I wonder if he was left handed.  Now get the punch line.  This is rich:  "I will certainly go with you," she replied, "but you shall not gain the glory in the expedition on which you are setting out, for the LORD will have Sisera fall into the power of a woman."  Don't mess with Gog's women, Barak!

5. Tobit 5; 4 - 5 -- Listen while the Archangel Raphael tells a fib - "Tobiah went to look for someone acquainted with the roads who would travel with him to Media. As soon as he went out, he found the angel Raphael standing before him, though he did not know that this was an angel of God.  Tobiah said to him, "Who are you, young man?" He replied "I am an Israelite, one of your kinsmen. I have come here to work." Tobiah said, "Do you know the way to Media?"  Of course I do.  I've been there many times.  Read the story.  The unveiling is at the end.  There is a lot of "good stuff" in this wonderful story about good, God loving people.

I could go on and on, but I won't.  I had this thought because one of the most humorous passages in the Gospel is the entire chapter 9 of St. John's Gospel and it was read in church this past Sunday. The characters in this little drama are so wonderfully sculpted that it is impossible to read this chapter just once.  My favorite part is when the ex-blind man really takes it to the Pharisees, they take offense ... ""You were born totally in sin, and are you trying to teach us?" Then they threw him out." [John 9; 34]
Don't ya just love it?  Geddoutta here!  Think about it, you probably know someone to whom that has been done.  Maybe it was you.  I know that I've gotten the bum's rush a time or two...once by a bishop.  I showed him, I'm still alive and he isn't.  Schadenfreude!
Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, cats and dogs, snakes and frogs, cows and asses, drink your water, eat your grasses, wear your fig leaves and your glasses, so when HE comes out from the blue, HE won't have to ask, "WHERE ARE YOU?"

THERE'S A LESSON HERE SOMEWHERE

From an email that I received today.


A mechanic was removing a cylinder-head from the motor of a Harley motorcycle when he spotted a well-known cardiologist in his shop. 
The cardiologist was there waiting for the service manager to come and take a look at his bike when the mechanic shouted across the garage. 
"Hey, Doc, want to take a look at this?" 
The cardiologist, a bit surprised, walked over to where the mechanic was working on the motorcycle.  The mechanic straightened up, wiped his hands on a rag and asked, "So Doc, look at this engine. I open its' heart, take the valves out, repair any damage, and then put them back in, and when I finish, it works just like new. So how come I make $39,675 a year and you get the really big bucks 
($1,695,759) when you and I are doing basically the same work?" 
The cardiologist paused, smiled and leaned over, then whispered to the 
mechanic..... 
"Try doing it with the engine running." 

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This is a downsized comparison that I first heard when I was in Rome during the Second Vatican Ecumenical Council.  A world renowned theologian had come to our residence and was giving us some idea of what the world's bishops were trying to do in their meetings.  He started by giving us his view of the world as he found it in the 20th century.  He said that one of the reasons why so many people are walking away from God and the Church is because so many people know so many things about realities that were mysteries to their mothers and fathers.  In fact, he said, that many of the students of our day know more about many things than those who are teaching them in the classroom.  One of the examples he used was precisely that of the mechanic.  The person who can take machines that are decrepit and out of service and make them like new again.  He used the example to show us that so many people have so many technical skills that it is easy for us humans to become arrogantly infatuated with the dominion that we have over creation.  With all this knowledge and power, who needs God?

I remembered this today when I received this little parable in my email.  In fact, a flood of ideas and thoughts have been running through my mind today because of this email.  It make me feel squeezed because I have 5,000 words in me about this, not a mere 500.  But one last comment.

The attitude of the mechanic is one that is widespread.  There is an attitude in the world that since we are all equal we should all be able to live at the same level.  Since everything that we do is important in some way to someone else in the community of man, then all jobs must be of equal value.  There is an attitude that brings all endeavors down to the lowest common denominator.  The supermarket helper who polishes apples and stacks oranges has a mind set that compares this work to that of the store manager who doesn't do anything but walk around all day with a pencil behind his ear.  The fruit polisher after all makes the merchandise attractive to the potential buyer.  In the mental and emotional scurrying that we do as humans, we want to be sure  within ourselves that what we do is as important and as valuable as what everyone else does.  Therefore we think that we should all get paid equally well so that our life styles can be in balance with everyone else's.

All I can say is, "Get over it."   We aren't God.  We never will be, not even in heaven.  As for me, if I get to heaven, I'll be so happy that I'll gladly live in the doghouse.  Don't worry about things you can't control.  Play the hand that you're given.  Drive on the road according to the conditions that it gives you.
Follow that advice and you won't want to cry at my funeral.

TOTAL LOSS

How many of these have you walked away from?  Don't be afraid to admit it.  If you come clean, you'll get to know how many I had.  Of course,you know that I'm going to tell you anyway.  Just relax, sit back and listen to my story.  It's not really too bad.  I was thinking about this today and I really do not know why.  There was no outside stimulus to excite me into flowing my mind one way or the other.  So, without provocation I started to think about the cars that we in the family have returned to the scrap heap.  I got to thinking about the many times that it has happened to me and I can't believe that it was so many.  There was one stretch in my life when I got worried about my ability to concentrate and after the third total loss event in four years, I decided to seek professional help about my mental abilities.  Those of you who know me can surmise that I saw the professional one time.  During that one time I decided that I was a lot more competent to take care of my mental equipment than this soppy individual.  I save the insurance company a lot of money on that one.  I still think that something in the space of about five years there, stuff was not firing right in the belfry and all of a sudden, wham, iron was flying all over the place.  Through it all, I wrecked five cars, only one of which was anywhere near valuable.  It was only three years old, and a small one.  I was coming back home from work at about 12:30 midnight when in an intersection just 200 yards away from home I smacked into a huge Yukon, head-on.  I wasn't wearing my seat belt and at 35 mph I came out of it without a scratch.
What I did get out of it was enough money to buy a nice Honda Civic Hybrid with enough left over to get number one son a down payment and better loan interest on a brand new car as well.  
Despite the many cars that I have recycled, I have been blessed in that no one was ever hurt and in the end things went well.  It is something that impresses me, this impersonal, wreck a car and get a better one attitude.  There has to be a lesson there about our way of life.  Be that as it may, all's well and our Honda is now going on 7 years and at 136,000 miles, we still like it a lot.  And I haven't hit anyone in all that time.

DO YOU REMEMBER HIM? HER? THEM? IT?

The past sometimes gets to be the present.  I have been having throw-back thoughts a lot lately and I have to smile at so many of them because they are downright pleasant.  Most of them have been about people, but in order to get the point across and get past the scantily clad females on Google, I chose to show a 1949 Hudson Wasp.  I won't bore you with how scantily clad can possibly be a logo for nostalgia.  But, I guess, on Google, when in doubt, slide anything into the open space.  Enough of that, already!
I'm sure so many of you think of people you knew when you were in school.  Since the names of the people I think of don't mean much, if anything to you, I'll just describe the characteristics that make them easy to remember.  So, the other day it was the girl in kindergarten who didn't stop crying for a week.  I remember her because she was very plain, and never got to be anything but "plain" as she grew up.  It took her a week to get over her separation anxiety and she lived a mere 100 yards away from the school.  She had a strange name, for us, since we didn't know Italian then.  Her name was Bella.  [With apologies to Antonio Phaneuf, my first cousin/quasi brother]  I think of him a lot.  Mainly I think of what he looked like when he was 17, and not 87!  I also think a lot about a bunch of cousins and quasi cousins that I went to school with.  They were a great bunch but I never grew up around them and the only influence they had on my development was the contact that we had in school.  We lived rather far apart, and they were second and third degree cousins, so we didn't have them in our lives at the first degree level, if you get my drift.  But I think of them a lot, and have been carrying them around in my head for about a month now.  [The Durand family, for those of you who know]  I think a lot about the first classmate of ours who died.  He was less than 20 if I remember correctly, and he died of natural causes, rather than of street violence or automobile accident.  He was followed by the classmate who had hydrocephalus [His cranium was enlarged due to poor drainage of fluid back into his system]  He had a hard time walking and he had a difficult time learning how to write.  He did surpass the first person to die by some years.  I have been thinking of my father's uncle Theo.  He is the person who had the gift of stopping bleeding.  He didn't have to touch the person.  All he had to do is to pray for the bleeding to stop, and it did.  He came to the United States one time [from Canada].  He was a huge human being.  A gentle giant with a booming laugh.  That was it.  I saw him twice for a total of 3 or 4 hours.  Never saw him again except in my mind, often.  Mainly I remember asking  myself what good was it to stop blood when the far away people like us couldn't reach him anyway?  I was not sassy enough in my childhood to ask him, but I was thinking of it, a lot.
As you know, I could go on about this for a long time.  But I won't.  I'm putting this before you to invite you to marvel at the wonder of our memory and the ability that we have to make the past vividly present in our lives.  I suppose that this too falls into the category of epistemology.  You remember that,right?  There are these moments in our lives when I think we have to stop and admire the mystery of what we are.  Not the mystery that we don't know, but the mystery that we believe in.  It is in this belief that we nurture the conviction of the truth about what we come to know about ourselves and about the rest of the humans with whom we live and by whom we are surrounded every day.  Now that I think of it, a 1949 Hudson with "step down into it" technology is a rather weak symbol of what I really wanted to express today.  But somehow it is better than the alternatives among which I made the choice.

COMMON SENSE -- OH, YEAH? HERE'S ONE FROM THE BIBLE

But the LORD said to Samuel: "Do not judge from his appearance or from his lofty stature, because I have rejected him. Not as man sees does God see, because man sees the appearance but the LORD looks into the heart." (1Sam 16;7)

Jesse sent and had the young man brought to them. He was ruddy, a youth handsome to behold and making a splendid appearance. The LORD said, "There-anoint him, for this is he!" (1Sam 16;12)

I heard this in church today and it made me smile.  God sends Samuel to Jesse's place in Bethlehem to pick a king to replace Saul.  They plan it well because Samuel is afraid that if Saul knows where he is going, Samuel's life will be in danger.  Samuel gets there and immediately Jesse's sons appear and God warns Samuel about the danger of judging on appearance.  God tells him that God doesn't choose according to physical appearance but according to the person's inner  attitude toward Him.  So, no sooner than we finish reading the warning, we get the description of David and how handsome he is.  Huh?  What is this?  I guess it must be OK for God to choose according to appearance, but not us.  But then there is the other side of the coin that I guess I forgot in the instant of hearing what was being read.  Isn't it that the inner spirit of a person makes the outer part beautiful to match what is inside?  Didn't we mention that just the other day when we heard that "no one is ugly while smiling?"  So I vote for that.  I also must say that this story brought to mind something that happened to me about 30 or more years ago.

I was the director of human resources at an electronics components plant in San Diego.  We were looking for entry level employees, and we had many jobs to fill.  We ran ads in the newspaper and we were getting a steady stream of applicants.  One day, Adonis the Ethiopian came in looking for a job.  Had to be the result of one of Mussolini's people and this hunk's mother.  Blue eyes, Roman nose, silky skin, wavy hair and flashing white teeth highlighting a 1,000 watt smile.  My assistant went nuts.  She detained this specimen for an indecent amount of attention at the front desk.  She came in and "presented" him to me with the most transparent recommendation that I or you have ever seen from a front desk assistant.  So I talk to the guy and I decide to do her a favor.  I mark his paper with a "+" sign.  This indicates that she can tell him that we will call him tomorrow and the news will be what he is expecting.  

You know what?  She enjoyed his glow for a while but when she found out that he was a lout, she was the one wanting us to fire his sorry *&%#)) as soon as possible.  (He lasted 5 weeks.) So God was right.  So be careful when you make decisions.  Make sure that you have it all together in the same place when you make up your mind.  

Having been a human resources management person for three decades, I assure you that I have a truckload of stories to tell about hiring decisions and firing decisions that I have taken and recommended.  Good ones and bad ones, of course.    If I had the talent of Carlin or Leno I can assure you that I would not be doing this at midnight every night!

                                                                                                  :-)!

OH,OH, WE CAN'T HIRE A MAN, JO-EL

Oh, you're a man!  Sorry about that

This is a cute little story.  It does not have a happy ending, but the happiness of it can be found in the facts as they unfold.  It is one of those realities that push the saying, "Getting there is half the fun" to the edge of the cliff.  In this story, getting there is the only fun.  Jo-El, his mother and I were having a supper of sushi since it was Friday and Lent.  This was just two days ago.  During the meal Jo-El answered his telephone even though he did not recognize the identity of the caller.  His initial reactions to the call indicated that the caller was not sure who was on the telephone.  Jo-El's reaction to the call was one of strained respect and politeness.  After the opening parlay, we heard a low chuckle or two from Jo-El followed by a sincerely felt "I can certainly understand that."  A couple more "hmm, hmm's" and a chortle and then the politer end greetings given through a smug smile and a shaking of the head.  Mom, of course was the first to talk, "Who was that?"  As he was putting his phone back into his pocket Jo-El informed us that the caller was calling him about a driving job for which he had applied.  As he shook his head he informed us that the caller was rather surprised to hear a man's voice over the phone.  In fact, he said, she was a little bamboozled.  She didn't know what to say.  When she recovered she explained that under the circumstances that she now knew, it was not possible to make him an offer of employment.  The job, it turned out, was to transport women clients of a behavioral training clinic dealing with helping women with eating disorders.  It was explained to him that because of that, they could not hire a man for the job.  The caller apologized for the situation.  Jo-El just laughed it off.  What else could he do.  So all three of us took it in stride and laughed it off.  When things things go awry, you can't win for loosing.  

Wait, there's more.

Later after our return home after sushi, Jo-El's phone rang again and this time it was his friend.  This friend had introduced Jo-El's name to the company at which he works in the hope that Jo-El would be hired there too.  Jo-El would enjoy working for this company since it offers work in his line and pays rather well.  We overheard Jo-El's side of the call and it was a little mysterious.  The post phone call debriefing was another one of those moments when "getting there is the only fun."  The friend had received a gift certificate from the company for referring Jo-El, but Jo-El has not yet heard from the company.  Naturally, his conversation with his friend was about trying to peer into the dark in an effort to see what the meaning of the gift certificate was in relationship to Jo-El's situation with the company.

All of this within little more than two hours in the life of a person who has been on the bricks for over a month.

I has to take a lot of personal courage and mental stability to put up with the challenges of the job search.  I know, I've been through some interesting times in similar situations.  One time I went 14 months before I found work in my line after being let go from a company that dumped me in favor of cronies whose jobs they were saving from the mother company in the Midwest.  They had hired me because they needed someone to speak Spanish.  Just short of a year into the job they jettisoned me because their friends were more important than my Spanish.  Sound familiar, anyone?  Thanks to you all for the prayers that you offer for this young man.  Mom and I are glad that we were around when these things happened.  It helped him to see the humor of it all.

professional baseball, san diego, california style

comedy from the start

this is a fitting day for the professional baseball season to open.  april fools day is the greatest descriptive for the baseball team that carries the name of this city.  there was a time when i  was thrilled to be living in a city where there was a professional baseball team.  i was glad that it is a national league team since i prefer the style of play of the national league to the american.  on top of all, it didn't take long for me to go to the ball park to root for the Braves or the Cardinals or even the cubs for goodness sake.  believe me, it didn't take long for me to realize that there was no way i could ever take a liking to these palookas.  there was the left fielder who could not judge a fly ball;  the right fielder had a tendency, or maybe total ignorance, of throwing to the wrong base.  the first baseman couldn't turn a 3 - 6 - 3 double play and the best pitcher on the team had an 80 mile-per-hour "fastball."  let me tell you, that was the team that was.  now that the city has allowed them to swindle some $250 million for a new ball park, it is clear that nothing has changed.  "same old, same old."  
one thing has changed.  i have.  after the first strike of the ball players, i was one of those who stopped supporting the sport.  i am an equal opportunity activist.  i blame the players and i blame the owners and i blame the country's tax system which is slanted more in favor of the owners than of the players.  along with many others, call-ins to talk shows; comments in the newspapers and magazines, i vowed to stop going to baseball games.  i did too.  it's getting worse as the years go by.  i never thought, never, that i would cut off my relationship with baseball.  well, it's almost cleanly severed now.  i did not watch a single half inning of the world series in 2010.  i don't remember who played and of course, i don't know who won.  plus, i don't care.
two things did it: the union and the internal politics of the organization.  even if today is april fools day, and it's traditionally too early for baseball, when i heard the season was on, i had a twinge in my heart.  then i remembered that i am in san diego.  there are but two things that are reviling about san diego -- the padres and the chargers.  i'm still wondering two things about the situation -- how can 70 people be so bad at what they do and still make truckloads of money and how can i go from acrimony to ROFLMAO humor about it?

YA PUT YER WEED IN DERE

There was a time when I would have jumped into an ice cold November-chilled Connecticut river for this much Grass.  What a gold mine of cloud nine brotherhood this would be!  Sadly, I never ran across this Fort Knox in my Grass smoking era.  The best I could do was $35.00 per ounce Colombian sensemilla (sen-sem-ee-ya).  Now, I hear that that is sooo paséee!  The stuff they sell now is a hundred times better than that old s^$#*&t.  This according to my elder son, he of great knowledge and experience about such matters.  I wanted to talk about him today because it is April Fools day and his birthday at the same time.  The picture you see here could have been his avatar some time in the past.  These days it would be something closer to a source in Kentucky rather than Colombia...if ya get my drift.  All of this came to my mind today as I am in San Diego and there is so much stuff in the newspapers and on the radio about Grass -- yeah, Grass with a capital "G".  As you are all aware, the enlightened oligarchs, denizens of Washington D.C. haven't gotten around to de-criminalizing Marijuana just yet.  The grubby, space-cadets of various states like California and others have made the determination that Marijuana actually has some medicinal value. That being the case, Marijuana is available to those who need it to alleviate certain aches and pains.  So, it is legal with a prescription.  Today, the radio was exploding in reaction to an ordinance in San Diego that regulates the acquisition, the dispensing and the management of the drug.  There are also a lot of rules concerning the placement of the outlets where the drug can be purchased.  So, that makes San Diego the first major metropolis in the country to enact laws and regulations concerning the management of this legal substance...legal, that is, under certain constraints, in the state of California.  I personally think that this makes sense.  I'm all for it.  
Now, here's the scary part.  I really like marijuana.  It is a wonderfully active agent in the loosening of tensions and inhibitions during a party.  I find it better than alcohol in the sense that it never caused me to have a hangover or other physical unpleasant vagaries.  Just as I taught my boys how to drink with caution and restraint, I taught them to smoke Marijuana under the same cautions.  I told them that they did not have to hide their Marijuana activity from me nor from the Voice from the Kitchen.  They did not.  The second son was not as active as the elder in the pursuit of behavior altering activities, but he too was open about his smoking and drinking.  
So, I just blew a perfectly put together, sunny, Southern California April Fools Day by getting serious and telling the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth in front of you and the whole world.  Sheeesh, what a Bozo!  
On this wonderful April Fools
I did not use the good tools,
I went and broke all the rules.
I told the truth, so you will see
That there will really never be
A greater April Fool than me.
For those of you who know, and of course for those of you who don't, my attitude about these things was formed by EFR Dion who was clean and up front about such matters.  April Fools Day included.

CONTUMELY: HOW BAD CAN THE TRUTH BE?

Oh, no, not another $50.00 word!  When is this guy going to stop pushing these things on us?  Well, not this time.  Maybe next time.  This came up because there was an occasion last week when in front of my very eyes and to the consternation of my ears, I heard this, "Why are you dancing around the  truth?  You know that the truth never hurt anyone.  So if this person is a gutter snipe, just say it and be done with it."  Oh boy!  That really got me going and turn me into a real moral tiger.  It did this because I remember the long classes of catechism in which we learned about the difference between contumely and calumny.  This in relation to the teachings surrounding the eighth commandment (9th if you're in a Protestant tradition).  I reproached the speaker with the sassy question, "Don't you know that it is a sin to tell the truth about the moral defects of others to a third person?"  The response was, "They never taught us that in catechism class."  WOW!  Well, I suppose that's because contumely is the truth, and the commandment talks about lying.  The people who taught me must have been wrong.  They were perhaps on thin ice in one way, but on solid ground in another one.  Perhaps more related to the "Thou shalt not steal" commandment than the one about lies.  Contumely is really about stealing someone's good reputation.  Even if it is the truth, saying nasty things about someone is a great lack of respect toward that person.  Contumely is the grist of a great amount of gossip.  Now we all know that gossip is a nasty thing.  We all dislike being the object of gossip.  Why?  Simple.  So much of it is true.  Our head spins wondering where anyone got to know that about me.  We go from there trying to Sherlock Holmes our way to finding out who the source of the "news" was.  
Now, you've read all of that and you're saying, "No way. If you're a murderer and a rapist and I know you, you're toast.  I'm telling."  Well, goooood fer yoooouuu!  You should rat that vicious animal out.  It's your duty to the community.  It's the private, personal stuff that makes up the personality of our friends, relatives and neighbors that we have to protect from becoming public.  Just because we know the truth about how the knitting club lady lost her baby doesn't mean that we have the liberty to bust her reputation with it.  Just because we are privy to where the next door neighbor's son was before he suddenly appeared on the scene, doesn't mean that we can make life harder for him by sharing the truth.  We have the mission to help our fellow humans overcome their weaknesses.  We don't have the mission to make them the glorious mark of our inside knowledge about them.
So, be careful with the truth.  If you're interested, you might want to pick up the masterful comedy by Moliere entitled "The Misanthrope."  It will be more fun than the Catechism but just as effective in getting my point across to you from this "Thought."
Anyone know what "calumny" is?

I WAS SERVING MAMMON LUCRE

There's too much going on.  There's work for the transportation company; there's teaching for the parish; there's the old passenger from the transportation company who still loves me and wants me to phone him; There's the tax lady who wants me to be on time for once...just once in 30 years, please.  Her father never complained because he disliked the IRS as much as I did and still do.  I sure hope that God took that guy by the hand and took him for a walk in the Garden.  He was a very holy man.  But, I digress.  I actually caved in to her and she now has our stuff earlier than it has ever been on either his (the father) or her desk.  I have a weak spot for women. I also have been caught up in a messy comment vs. comment in the Catholic magazine these past days.  Oh, it was fun, but it did take a lot of my time and Old Man Lucre (see above) was getting somewhat antsy.  So I got to throw myself at his feet and beg for mercy so that I could have something to pay the rent with next week.  You might know what that is all about.  Have you noticed that I am ending a lot of my sentences with a preposition tonight?  I have to stop it.  My Aussie friends will scold me for not knowing the English language and still putting my verbiage out in public.  By the way, a couple of them live in Tasmania, or do they say, live ON Tasmania?  If they are serious about helping me, they will give me the answer soon.  It's already almost winter there now, so they are no doubt getting more and more cross by the day.  By the way, there is such an animal as the Tasmanian Devil.  At least, they say there is.  On top of all that I took on a charitable work helping the daughters of a dear friend of ours who died about six months ago.  She was French and had property in France and died without a will.  They, the inheriting daughters don't handle the French language very well, so here I am, helping them out.  They tell me that if they have to go to France for this thing, they will take me along to help them.  That's a great prospect!  I wonder if I can deduct the trip so that I won't have to pay taxes on the free ride?
So you're looking for the thought of the day.  I have two.  Neither one of which is very serious, but fun.
One:  Those questions the other day?  They are the type that have no correct and definitive answer.  My friend from Micronesia sent me back and email with answers (hers) and I sent her back an email with mine.
Try it.  You know what you answered.  See if it matches what I could answer.
How long is a string?  Twice as long as its first half.
What does a boat way upon leaving the pier?  Anchor.
How do you lift an elephant with one hand?  First you find a one-handed elephant.   
See what I mean?
Two:  EFR Dion (The Voice from the Kitchen doesn't like it when I do that), so, my father used to be proud of something that not too many people can do.  He was proud that he could write free hand with teenie-weenie writing and you could still read it.   The guy was a serious talent.  Now, fess up, how many of his children knew that about him?
So, now I am going to get out of the arms of Mammon Lucre for a few hours and give Morpheus her turn.  Then Mammon Lucre gets me back tomorrow for the transportation company and Melaleuca which, by the way, is going very well.  We're making $$!  If any of you would like to do something on the side so that you could afford to have an extra topping on your pizza, ask me and I'll send you an interesting link.  
Nighty, night all.

HOW LONG IS A PIECE OF STRING?

How long is a piece of string?  I really don't want any wise crack answers from any of you.  I mean, how many answers could there really be?  Think about it for a short while and when you think you have the answer, raise your hand and go to the bathroom.  You have my permission in advance.  Let me give you a hint.  The brightest answer is the same is how long is an hour?  It's even the same answer as How far is a mile?  This is so easy, that If you keep wondering and kanoodling around with this easy stuff, we'll never get to the hard stuff.  While you're fighting with that, quick, tell me what a ship weighs when it leaves the pier?  See, this stuff is ultra simple.  It's just one of the exercises that you have to do on a daily basis to avoid being victimized by Alzheimer's disease.  You have to exercise your brain.  Some questions blind-side you and when you open your eyes you ask yourself how you could have thought that the question was intelligent to begin with.  Now, while you're still trying to figure out how long a piece of string is, let me ask for help with this one that I have been fiddle-faddling around with all day:  "How do you lift an elephant with one hand?"  Hah!  You'll never get that one. That's Divine engineering stuff that no human can calculate his/her way out of.  I have to tell you that it is much more meaningful than that stupid question we had to solve as teen agers, "How do you put two elephants in a Volkswagen?"  That was ridiculously easy.  It was so easy that my friend didn't help me with it for at least three days.
You're all sitting there with your scrolling fingers itching, wondering when I am going to reach the bottom and give you a list of answers.  HEY YOU, come back up here.
OK, I'll cave in and give you a list of answers:
1. Answers
2. Answers
3. Answers


That long enough for you?  You really didn't think that I would divulge the answers to such magnificently esoteric secrets, did you?


You want answers, send a picture of Benjamin Franklin kissing Marie Antoinette.

HERE'S HOWE -- THE AIRPLANE'S SHADOW

HOW FAST IS IT GOING?

Sorry for being late.  I have to tell you a secret: I was working at a gainful project.  Can you imagine that?  It doesn't happen very often, but when it does, I have to drop a lot of things to make sure that the gain is full, or as full as possible, anyway.  The other part of the secret is that I was also busy composing responses to a person who had submitted three responses to one of our catechetical blogs entitled, "Catholic Q & A with Father Mike."  The comments came back, not as answers to our questions, but as challenges and more questions about our Catholic faith.  So naturally, since I am the Theology Editor of the magazine I had the joy and duty to respond to the person who composed the comments and for the enlightenment of those who would eventually read them.  Father Mike is a celebrity and he doesn't have time.  We 100 year old grunts are the warriors in these battles.  So now that you know more about my personal life than you ever wanted to know.  Let me tell you some more about it.  This is more autobiographical and light hearted than the first part.
When I was a boy, a younger boy than I am presently, EFR Dion would bring home the Sunday editions of two New York Newspapers every weekend.  No, not the Times.  I remember one as being the Mirror and I forget the other.  It was always interesting to read these papers because they had a wonderful line-up of cartoons.  Let me try to remember a few.  Henry (Carl Andersen); Terry and the Pirates (I've got the guy's name on the tip of my tongue...); Little Orphan Annie; The Katzenjammer Kids; Superman; Blondie; Dick Tracy; Nancy; Pogo and a couple more that I can't remember.  There was one about a caveman but I can't recall the title, and finally don't forget Joe Palooka.  It was a lot of fun reading these items.  There was also a semi-glossy magazine in one of the papers and outside of the pictures, I didn't pay too much attention to the content.  There was however one section that I learned to appreciate and never really missed.  It was so intellectually satisfying.  So much so that I have forgotten everything that I ever learned there except for two things.  Yup, all of two.  The first one was easy and I remember feeling that I knew the answer even before reading it, but rather than to try to answer it form my own resources, I read the answer anyway and got this reaction that we all know so well, "I knew that!"  The question? "If you wanted to always walk in the same direction around the earth, in which direction would you choose to walk?"  See, you know the answer to that and perhaps have known it for many years.
The second one is a little trickier and believe it or not, I really did not understand the answer as it was written in the newspaper.  Being a simple tyke of perhaps 10 or 11, I guess that my puzzlement would be understandable.  "Does and airplane's shadow travel at the same speed as the airplane?"  Now that, my friends was a mystery to me.  All the more so that the answer started of with, "It all depends..."  I think that it was then that the curtains came down over my brain and I lost it.  I tried to understand it but could not.  For some inexplicable reason, I never asked EFR Dion for an explanation.  I decided, out of a sense of pride?, that I would solve this one myself.
You know that it took longer than a day.  It took longer than a month.  It actually took years.  In order to protect the innocent, I won't say how many years. Here's how it happened.  I was in the car with EFR Dion and we were going to pick up MJT Dion, his Voice from the Kitchen.  She was coming out of the hospital with my second brother.  We were driving up to what we used to call "The perpendicular parking" space.  Nose to the building, rear to the sun.  There was our shadow on the building.  We were moving and it was not.  Wow, I thought I had it.  I had to test it.  I kept it to myself.  This was too good.  I tested and tested but was never satisfied with my experiences.  The profile of an automobile is too low to get good shadow extension, so the experimentation was taking a long time before bearing any solid fruit.  Then came time to go back to school.  That was to be the key of the latching on to the truth.  The high profile of the bus and the low sun early in the morning were a perfect lab for me to try out my senses.  For the fifteen minutes that I was on the bus, I marveled at the way the shadow would jump from one building to the next at the speed of light while bus was crawling along the street.  I had it.  It was, and still is,  all in the angle.  Ya know what?  That night EFR Dion got an earful!

Hey! It's 1:00 AM. Keep it down, Will Ya!

Ask me what I'm doing up at this hour.  Go ahead.  Try me.  Rather than answer I would perhaps just look at you and wonder what you were doing up at this hour.  Reminds me if the old French Canadian joke that relates how the guy whose drunk too much comes home to see his wife at the door with her rolling pin in hand.  She asks, "How stupid can you be coming home at this hour?"  and his response was, "How stupid can you be to be making pies at this hour?"  So I guess there are two sides to every situation.  Truth to tell,  have been working.  I am preparing the work that I will have to begin on Monday Morning, or Sunday night.  I am late because we had a friend over for supper (dinner for you left coast people) and so everything got pushed back a little.  In a few hours I and the Voice from the Kitchen will be driving to San Diego for a two day stay with our younger son.  He, by the way is getting invitations to interviews,  There is one of them that is somewhat promising since it is in his line and with a company that is a direct competitor of one for which he worked in the past.  We'll see what his guardian angel has in store for him in the next few days.  Your prayers are certainly helping a lot.  Our Melaleuca business is taking off quite nicely.  This makes us happy and encourages us to continue making life happen.   The guest we had for dinner has succumbed to my charms and promised to come to Southern California next January to give some presentations about the theology of the Apparitions of the Blessed Mother Mary.  I am so happy that he will come.  It will make a strong impact on the community here in Southern California to have a professional priest come all the way out to California to share his convictions with us.
I will now stop this disjointed drivel and hie meself to bed.  Remember that this is Saturday and I am counting on you not really reading this because of that.  And, if you're counting the number of "Thoughts" that we have had so far, and compare them with the number of days since November 25, 2010, you'll see that we are safely within the margin of successfully completing  the challenge of 365 Thoughts in 365 days.  You and your expectations are what keep me going.  So keep it up.  I'm now going to throw myself into the waiting arms of Morpheus.

SPIRITUALITY/THEOLOGY OF AGING ACCORDING TO PUTTSS

Oh boy!  The river of thoughts that hit me when I saw this.  It came with a string of other cartoons, not all of them equally as funny, of course.  This one got to me because I was in one of my more spiritual moments this morning. I'm always in the presence of God when I have to do Beelzebub's work by getting my stuff ready for the IRS.  It's such a struggle that I have to keep talking to God, Mary, my Guardian Angel and all the saints so that I don't go off the deep end, where ever that may be.  Anyway, then came this cartoon.  A wave of spiritual cacophony invaded me.  It was a spiritual cloud cloaking me but it was not calming.  It was not peaceful.  It was not truly loving, but I knew it was full of teaching and revelation.  The main lesson that seeped its way into my soul was that God Himself is in charge of the length of our lives.  I remembered Job saying that our days are numbered (chapter 14, verse 5).  I remember psalm 90, that beautiful poem about the human condition.  I remember Jesus' soliloquy in Mark 13 that ends with something like, " ... you don't know the hour, so stay awake".  I, myself have repeated myself numerous times across the blogosphere saying that our lives are not ours to keep. They are God's to use and to govern according to His needs and wants.  

The corollary to the first lesson was that as much as we think we know about ourselves and as much as we like to believe that we and God are one and that we somehow can be a divine cause of our personal well being, we can't.  We can't because we are not divine.  Not even close.  In truth, between the divine nature and the human nature there is a chasm of reality that cannot be bridged by us.  We are told in the Gospel that every hair of our head is counted.  That not a sparrow falls without God knowing it.  Just who do we think we are that we can cause divine things to happen in us?  Isn't the lengthening of life a divine exercise?  Maybe.  The Scripture says that our days are numbered.  Doesn't that mean that when we reach the number, our days end?  It would appear so.

So, then, why take care of ourselves if there is nothing we can do about the amount  of time we have here on earth?  We have  the obligation to care for ourselves because God needs us to do His work.  To do His work we have to be fit.  We have to keep ourselves as fit as possible by using the powers of nature and science to make it so.  It is sinful to abuse our bodies and the bodies of others.  To stay awake, as in Mark, is to stay fit for the greater glory of God.  Some are called to a longer number of days, some are called to a shorter one.  I spoke to a man today who at 87 seems to be about my age. (i.e., young!) No glasses, no hearing aid, no cane.  Clear and sharp voice and a spring in his step.  He said to me something that is music to my ears, "each day I just try to figure out what God wants and I try to give it to Him."  Then I came in and saw this cartoon.  

I know that you are out there saying, That Paul.  He is just so nuts!  It's just a cartoon for crying out loud.  Ya know what?  Yer right.  Even I have stopped drinking and a bunch of other stuff.  Not to live longer, I don't believe in that.  But like the old man said this morning, we have to live strongly for HIM.  For HIM we strive to stay well so that He can get His things done.  

That's what I believe.  Now that you know it, I'm glad that it took away any temptation you might have had to cry at my funeral.

DOES A LARGE NOSE DISFIGURE A PRETTY FACE ?

I AM IN HERE, HELLLO!

Has anyone ever asked you that?  By "anyone" I mean "anyone" with a really large nose?  Did you have someone in your family who suffered from such a condition as a large nose?  You don't even have to think about it.  If you do have a relative with a large nose, you don't have to think.  It popped into your head the minute you read the title.  If you place yourself in the past tense, you still don't have to think about it.  That nose will take over and make you shake your head in awe.  It is quite possible that when you read the title you immediately felt your brain quake a little bit at the dissonance that the question causes.  We don't think of a pretty face "sporting" a large nose...Well not a really large nose, anyway.  We are always willing to give physiological oddity some leeway.  We try to put a grade on oddities that bring us out of the sphere of the average and suddenly plunge us into the arena where the sad is on the left and the humorous is on the right.  Somehow, we feel more comfortable with the humorous, never stopping to reflect on the truth that the "owner" of the oddity is as uncomfortable with the sad as with the humorous.  You know why that is.  It's simple.  It's because the oddity becomes the center stage attraction while the "person" becomes the side show.  I offer you this example from my personal life.  
There was a time when for many years I had a full beard.  The first time I "wore" it, I removed it after about 8 weeks.  People asked me why I had removed it because they liked it.  It was nice.  It was smooth.  The children and the ladies would pass their hand over it and enjoy the sensuality of it.  Everywhere I went, all I heard was, "Wow, Great beard!"  Well, I got sick and tired of that and shaved it all off.  I got center stage back again.
Three months later I had it back.  I liked it better than anyone else did anyway.  You do get my point.  
Two more points.  One.  I come from a family where one member had a far above average large nose.  It was my dear maternal grandmother.  Now she was as sweet as honey and my grandfather was the bee.  A tough and grumpy lover of a man.  One day, as the story goes, my grandmother asked him the question that you saw on the way in, today.  He looked up from his paper and looked at her long and hard, gave a hearty "Haarrruuummppphh, brrr, Brrr and said, "Just keep smiling.  No one's ugly when their smiling."  Then he went back to his paper.  It is then recounted that my grandmother turned back to the task of preparing the meal at the stove and she said, "...And a big nosed woman is pretty when she stirs the pot."
Two.  Human physical beauty is perceived only by other humans.  It is also true that human physical beauty has a way of becoming secondary in certain emotional environments.  I'll bet that just like me, there are some of you reading this who occasionally ask, "what could anyone see in her/him?"  Yet, there they are, she with the big nose and he with the "flying wing" ears.  To see how beautiful that couple is, we look at the children romping around them.  Mystery solved.  Love conquers all.
Finally, the picture at the head of this item has the face of a man in it.  Are you going to content yourself with enjoying the pretty outer colors in the quaint pattern or are you going to try to discover the face that is masked by the first thing that strikes our senses?  There's a lesson there too.  I leave it to you to reflect on it and draw your own lesson(s) from it.

CAREER? WHO NEEDS IT? IT'S MORE FUN WITHOUT IT!

Yesterday, or the other day I mentioned that my younger son was interviewing for a job outside of his line.  One of you jumped all over me (private email) and said some very interesting things about what taking a job outside your line could do to your life, to your self image and to the image that others have of you.  It is a major sin to "change lanes".  Once you have been endowed with the gifts that can serve as the foundation for your career, you must stick with them and make them, and them alone carry you through life.  To that I say, stercus taurorum!  Why? I'll tell you why.
A career is a track to run on.  If you don't believe me, check the etymology.  You can check the Latin languages. Horses have careers.  Humans don't.  Humans have the freedom to choose what they want when they want.  The reason I took that design up there is because it is the perfect image of a career.  Go straight down the track and make the first left for the rest of your life.  Ask any run of the mill race horse.  How many horses ever have a second chance before the glue factory? Not too many.  In this day and age of artificial insemination, even the second chance that they used to have is not that glamorous.  So, you want to run around in circles, or ovals?  Have a career.  My view of the world is,  don't have one.  Do what you either want to do, or have to do and learn to like it, or don't do anything at all.  Don't talk to me about image.  Image will not put steak on your plate.  Not the image you have of yourself nor the image that others have of you.  WORK is what puts steak on your plate.  That is what humans are called to do, WORK.  Not run around in circles and look good.  I know people who are "one trick" ponies.  They have a Church career, many of those that I know.  Fifty years they've been working in Church and fifty years later they still have nothing but the groove in the track that they've been on all the time.  They are good, solid, career people.  How many priests do you know who have left the active ministry of the Catholic Church and gone across  the street to the Anglicans, or others?  Is it because they like the Anglicans better?  No.  It's because they're incapable of surviving out of their line.  That's why I'm against taking  the Anglican priests into the Catholic Church.  We're not doing ourselves any favors.  They aren't smart enough to be able to survive outside the clerical state.  Why should we take them?  They haven't been any more faithful to their original calling than the Catholic priests who've gone to the Anglican side of the street.
I personally have had a lot of opportunities to learn a lot of things, up to and including being an Anglican.  Work for the Queen of England?  You gotta be nuts!  Back to stuff I learned, stuff like, cussing in Latin and seven other languages.  I learned a lot about labor law.  I learned a lot about computers.  I learned how to write a little bit.  I learned how to talk straight without covering up the truth.  I learned how to organize events.  I learned how to teach.  I taught theology for thirteen years for a Southern California diocese.  I learned how to study so that I never had to cram for exams.  I graduated with a masters in Theology from a prestigious Dominican University in Rome.  I learned how to marry late in life and still keep it going for 35 plus years.  I learned to recognize  that I was not ever going to be good enough to play professional baseball and dealt with the disappointment.  I worked in Italy, France, Mexico and the Philippines besides here in the U.S.  I worked in church.  I worked as a paralegal advocate in the church office of marriage annulments.  I worked in manufacturing plants.  I worked for non profit NGO's.  I worked as a professional driver.  I worked as a cashier in a taco shop.  I worked as a telephone answering service operator.  I worked as a professional interior painter and I worked as a clerk in a store that sold soap and other non consequential life style items.  Now I am working as an independent billing contractor.  Wife and I also have a small Melaleuca business.  Those are the things that have generally $upported me in life.  Now, for O income,  I also write blogs and serve as the Theology Editor for ParishWorld.net, an online Catholic Magazine and finally, as the official pain in the ass of the Priest Moderator of Temporalities and Service Commissions at the church that I attend.  
So, go ahead, ask me if I have a career, or had a career and my answer is, Who needs one?  Horses.