Gene: The Man

Computers are wonderful things.  In fact I do spend a lot of time fooling with the things.  Most of the time it is because something has gone wrong with it.  I will say this however.  The thing that just happened tops anything I have ever seen before.  I opened it up just like I always do.  And while it was booting all of a sudden a notice appeared on the screen saying that it was running a scan.  I didn’t think much about that.  I just thought that maybe that was normal.  But after a while a message came up saying that I had twenty-nine threats and it needed to be fixed RIGHT NOW.  So I punched the button that promised to fix it.  I never should have done that.  It then said that before it could be fixed I would have to register it, and then it took me to the screen where that could be done.  It first wanted me to send them sixty dollars. Now nobody has ever accused me of being overly smart but I did recognize this as a scam. 

So I immediately clicked on my security program expecting to get the thing out of my computer.  But lo and behold a message popped up saying that my security program was one of the threats.  Then I went from one program to another and (you are not going to believe this) I got the same message on every one of them.  Talking about a mess.  I knew that I had been had.  So I did what all smart people do.  I turned off the computer, cussed a lot, and went and told Linda she must have done something wrong.  That wasn’t too smart, either.  First of all she never touches a computer.  Second of all I already knew what the problem was and also knew that it was above what I could fix.  I was most worried about how much it was going to cost to get it fixed.  You see I am known for my frugality.  I’m just cheap!

So there I sat!  I couldn’t get my email.  I couldn’t get on the Internet.  I couldn’t pay my bills because I do that online.  (Maybe that wasn’t so bad)  I couldn’t find out what my granddaughter was doing on Facebook.  I couldn’t even play freecell. What do people do when they don’t have a computer? 

All this brings me to the best act of kindness since Bob.   I was talking to Jim and he said that I should talk to Gene.  He said that Gene knew everything there was to know about computers.  Beside that, Jim said that he had just had the same thing happen on his computer and Gene fixed it.  That was all I needed to hear.  So I talked to Gene. It was obvious that he knew all about what was wrong so I asked him to fix mine.  And he did.  He explained how that sort of thing just comes up without warning.  Nobody knows where it comes from and what happens to the sixty dollars after you pay it because your computer is still left in that unheard of state after you pay.  And there is no way to trace where the payment went.  I think it goes to the Federal Government but I can’t be sure. 

But Gene is a genius.  He took my computer home and ridded it of that scam.  He had to go all the way into the registry and whip it clean. And that is not an easy thing to do.  He gave me a list of things that I still had to do but it was all normal stuff.  And now it works fine.  Until it happens again. 

So as you are sitting there reading this the little guy that lurks in your computer may be getting it ready to put you into orbit. Too bad I promised Gene that I would never reveal his real name to anybody. 

But you will have to agree:  Gene is a true friend and there is a special place in Heaven for him.

Love ya!

The Sad Notes

You may never have heard of the Sadnotes.  That is because we are really the Gladnotes.  Never heard of them, either?  Well, it is a fine singing group made up of elderly singers who enjoy singing to even more elderly people.  We go to nursing homes or retirement centers or other such places where most of the people there are ones who are alone in the world.  Nobody much touches them.  Or gives them a hug or kiss.  Or tells them they are loved.  Most are homeless and ill.  Some just sit and stare at nothing in particular, seemingly just waiting to die. 

So once a week we gather and put on our show.  It is all worth it when we see one trying to sing along or smile a bit.  When we are through singing we usually try to go to every one and hold their hands or give them a hug.  We try to laugh with them if they will let us.  Then we leave giving thanks for the wonderful life we are still able to enjoy while wishing there were more we could do to give them even a little bit of joy.

It is difficult to tell just how much I enjoy singing with this group.  There are not many soloists in the group but we all make a joyful noise.  So now let me share with you one very special time with the Sadnotes:

We had just finished our routine and were about to greet all we could.  I had watched an elderly woman while we sang.  She sat still with her head sort of bowed.  Her lips were moving and I thought I could see her singing along with us.  I watched as she tapped her fingers on her armchair as if she were playing a piano along with us.  At the end of each song she would slightly look up and I thought I could see tears running down her cheeks.  When we were done singing I went to her and reached for her hand.  She looked at me with the smile of an angel.  I asked her if she would mind standing up.  She wanted to know why so I told her I wanted a hug.  She stood no, hopped up and threw her arms around me sort of like a mother hugs a loving son.  And we stayed like that for a long time.  After several minutes we parted and I stepped back just in time to see a beautiful set of eyes glowing while tears were running down her cheeks. 

“Young man,” she said. (I am almost eighty years old.)  “I cannot remember the last time anyone hugged me.  As a matter of fact nobody ever even touches me anymore.  And you hugged me as if you really wanted to.  You showed me love and heaven knows people my age need that.  Thank you for caring.”

I kissed her on the cheek and told her I loved her.  I told her that we were both God’s children so we were sort of brother and sister.

I hope as you read this you do not think I am trying to toot my own horn trying to make you think I am some kind of special person.  I am not. 

But the people we sing to are!

It has been a while since I told you that I love you but I still do.  Come back soon.  We will be joyful together.

Green Tomato Catsup

Green Tomato Catsup

When I was in the Navy they sent me to Sangley Point, Isle of Luzon, Republic of the Philippines for two years.  Actually it was two years, two months, and two days, but who was counting?  During that time I really enjoyed myself. I got to play baseball most of the time and had several of the easiest jobs the Navy had to offer.  So much for fighting a war, eh?  Well, when it came time for me to go home I was surprised to find out that I was homesick.  And when I got home my mother didn’t help that much.  She was so elated to see me that I felt like a little boy again.  The first thing she asked me after I gave her a chance to talk was: “What do you want me to fix you for dinner?  You can have anything you want.  Just name it!”

My response was quick because I had been dreaming about exactly that all the way home.  I told her, “I want white soup beans, green tomato catsup, and cornbread!” 

“No, really!  I said anything: steak, lobster, anything.”

“Mom, I really want white soup beans, green tomato catsup and cornbread.  I have been waiting for that meal for two years, two months, and two days.  (But who was counting?)

You see, that was the main meal I grew up on.  That may be why I am so short.  But anyway to me it is still the best meal ever.  She did fix it for me and after that dinner I was ready to die.  I had attained it all.

I guess by now you are wondering just exactly what all this dinner really is.  So I am going to tell you, although it would help if you spoke West Kentucky Slang.

First off, white soup beans is just a category.  Any bean that is white or even some that are not (such as pintos) qualify.  As you probably already know, any bean dinner will not only fill you up but it will enhance your social life afterwards.  (If you don’t understand that, then it is very likely that you are not a bean connoisseur.)

Second, everyone knows about cornbread unless of course you in fact do not have a life.  So I will not talk too much about that part’

This blog is really about the third element: green tomato catsup.  You may not have even ever heard of it.  And if it is known by you, you may be more apt to call it relish. Whatever you may call it, in my family it is known as green tomato catsup.  So there!

I have written a lot today just to get to the story I want to share. You see for years my mother actually made green tomato catsup each year when the tomatoes were about to end.  But she made it by herself and nobody else knew her recipe.  When she died at the early age of sixty-four none of us in our family knew that recipe.  She took it with her.  My two sisters and I were devastated.  Now what would we do?  No more green tomato catsup.

Then one happy Christmas Eave (I was singing that) I got a wonderful surprise in the mail from my sister Bette.  It was a pint bottle of green tomato catsup.  And it was just like Mom’s! What had happened?  Well, Bette had been talking to a friend and telling her about how our family had been torn away from the real recipe.  The friend laughed and told her that Mom had given her the recipe several years before she died.  The friend had never tried it.  I highly suspect she was educated beyond her intelligence. But Bette tried it and sent me a pint.  And the recipe.  We had now all come to life again.

So we all got together and made a massive decision.  We were to all meet at Bette’s house and form an assembly line and make several pints of this fine condiment.  We agreed on twenty pints, plus or minus.  My job was to bring the green tomatoes, enough for the planned number of pints.  I went to our local homegrown store and asked them how many tomatoes did they think we would need. I was told that it would probably take about two bushels.  Unless math is in feet and inches those kinds of answers didn’t mean much to me.  So I got the two bushels.

Others had procured the rest of the needed ingredients. And they were really good at math so they all had the right amounts.  I was assigned as the chopper.  Or more like a grinder because that is what we used.  Why?  Because that is what my mother used. What did you think?  As the day went by my nephew made many trips back to the store to get even more ingredients, each of us trying our best to keep up with that two bushels of tomatoes.  At the end of the day we stopped and counted hoping that we had our goal of twenty pints.  We did.  And more.  A lot more. 

All in all we had sixty-six jars.  But not all were pints.  Nine of them were quarts.  A couple were left over.  Two buckets full.  Big buckets! We discarded them with a closing prayer.

We are going to do that again next year.  You see that was three years ago and we all still have some.  Would you like a taste?  Or a pint to take home. If you like it we will have some more to share next year. 

But one thing that we all agreed on.  Someone else will bring the tomatoes.  I get to bring the salt. We don’t use that.

This has been my yummiest blog.  I think I am going to ask Linda to cook some white beans for tonight.  We seem to have plenty of green tomato catsup. 

My friend Bob

It was just a normal day at the liar's club.  I was sitting with a few friends and we were settling many world problems when the subject of home fix-it stuff came up.  I wanted to share so I told them about our kitchen sink.  You see, Linda had just told me that when she tried to turn on the water, water sprouted out through the top.  My wanting to impress her I quickly explained to her that it was probably just an o-ring that had worn out.  So I called the company where we had purchased this fine piece of hardware and ordered a set of o-rings that they suggested.  That was all I said.  It was not much of a story but it was all I had at the time.  My friends sitting near me promptly changed the subject.

As nearly always happens at that club it was not long until almost everyone there had left, leaving only two or three of us who were still trying to think of something interesting to say.

That was when Bob entered the picture.  He had been sitting at the far end away from me but apparently had heard every word.  He walked up to me and said, "Come on, Willy.  I am taking you home and I am going to fix your sink."

I barely knew Bob.  Yes, I had met him but we rarely talked.  And there he stood ready to help me.  And he was sincere.  He wasn't looking for any thank-yous or wanting any pay.  He simply wanted to be nice.  It was a random act of kindness we do not often see.  It was a gesture I will never forget. 

It was about a week later when I noticed that we had not seen Bob for several days.  And then John came in with the story:  Bob had been in a wreck and was at the hospital in a coma.  It didn't look good and the doctor had said that he was probably not going to make it.  He had been hit head on by a car driven by a young man who had just been released from jail having been guilty for the third DUI in less than a month.

Bob died.  And I never got the chance to tell him how much I appreciated his very kind offer to help me.  So now I want to share it with anyone who happens to be reading this.  He was a fine man who spent time longing to help others.  What a legacy!  I truly think that there is a special place in Heaven for Bob.  Rest in peace, my friend.  You will be missed.

Another Act of Kindness

It was just two wooden stools.  I am not even aware what they were used for.  But there they were, sitting in the fellowship hall of our church.  So Jim came in and pulled one of them over to sit on.  It was pretty shaky so he tried the other one.  It was worse.   I watched him go find another chair that was stable enough to sit on.  I thought that was the end of the story.

But it wasn't.

Today I was in the choir room at church when someone opened the outside door.  And there I saw Jim coming from the parking lot carrying two stools.  He came in, sat them down, looked at me and smiled.

"Now someone can sit on one of these things if they want to.  And it will hold them," he announced.

You probably have guessed what he did.  Yes, he did.  He took those shabby stools home and made four extra leg rails to stiffen the four that was supposed to do the job, re-glued the other joints, cleaned them up, painted them and brought them back for anyone to use if they needed to. They were like two new stools.

What is it that I am trying to say here?  Well, if I had sat on either of them while finding that they needed fixing I would probably have said that I thought someone should fix them and drop it at that.  But Jim took them home and fixed them.  Without being asked to do so.  He did that without telling anyone what he was going to do and returned them without telling anyone what he had done.  It was just a simple act of kindness for which he expected no reward at all.  He didn't even expect a thank you because he didn't tell anyone what he had done.  I would not have known had I not witnessed it without his knowing it.

The little things we do for others come
back to reward us no matter how hard we try to keep it secret.  And you could see the reward Jim had received by seeing the smile on his face.

There was a smile on my face, too.  I was proud of Jim.  And my guess is that God is smiling as well.  We don't have to change the world by doing great things.  We help change the world by small acts of kindness.  Don't you wish we were all a bit like Jim?

Looking Back

Each of us might feel better if occasionally we looked back at our lives.  Hopefully we can learn from that experience. A really smart man told me one time that we never learn from our mistakes.  I was shocked at that statement until he explained.  He asked me to to think about horseshoes.  If you throw a horseshoe ten times you may only get one or even no ringers.  However if you keep throwing them eventually you will toss perhaps ten or at least close to that.  If we learned by our mistakes we would never be able to get a ringer because we made ten mistakes the first try.  But as time goes by and we keep throwing we learn to do it right because we have learned by the things we have done correctly.  Does any of this make sense?

Because I am getting old I looked back on my life.  And what did I learn?  Not much I'm afraid.  But one thing stands out for me.

For fifty years or so I designed houses for a living. Altogether I think I designed somewhere around three hundred.  Some of them were McMansions and some were small houses that could be built with dynamite boxes and thumbtacks.  All were extremely well done.  (Please forget I said that!)  I never argued with a client.  If they told me they wanted a three foot wide closet with a two foot door that is what I put on the drawings.  I knew that I was not allowed a preference as to anything in the house.  The house for most people is the largest and most important investment they will ever make.  It is personal and dear to the ones who will live there.  So it was my job to draw away and otherwise keep my mouth shut.  When, if ever I designed one for myself, then and only then would I be allowed a taste.  When I was asked to include something that I was certain would not work I would suggest that they might reconsider but if they insisted then there it was on the drawings.

So how did I keep my sanity?  Well I sometimes think that I didn't.  But I did have a speach that I always gave when the drawings were through.  I would sit them down and ask them if I could say a few words before they began construction.  If they said that it was all right then this is the words I gave them, free of charge:

"Folks, I can give you anything you want on your design.  It is easy to put such things on drawings.  I can do this even if I disagree with the things you have asked for.  That is my job.  And when all has been accomplished then you will have the house you wanted.  However it will still not be a home.  For that to happen you will have to do your part.  You will have to add the love.  Love for each other.  Love for your family and the friends who will visit your house.  You will have to work together to build the family who will share what you have built for them.  I appreciate your letting me be a part of all of this but be aware that in the future you will look upon this design as yours.  Your ideas! Your desires.  Your wants.  Your needs.  So enjoy your house and enjoy the love that it encases."

I have seen the inside of perhaps a dozen of my designed houses after the furniture was in it.  The house is a personal thing and the designer at that time is no longer needed or wanted in most cases.  They get you ready for this in Architectural school and so it ends up being what we all want.  In the end the love wins!

I have had a good life and now am retired.  What would I do different?  Maybe I would have tried harder to learn to play that stupid banjo.

Write me and share your story, eh? It is all right for you to laugh at mine but I promise not to laugh at yours.

The happiness maker

This past Valentine's day Linda gave me two tickets for a show at our Kravis Center.  We went to see it last night. And what a show it was!

In the early 1950's my favorite show was a show about some sailors on a small boat who were always in some kind of trouble.  I was in the Navy at the time which made it even better for me.  I would watch it and laugh and laugh and laugh.  Other sailors watched it with me and we all laughed together.  Why, you ask?  Well it was basically because of a short funny Ensign who was forever and always saying the unexpected and hilariously funny lines.  It was a sad day when it was announced that the show would no longer be on. 

But the Ensign lived on.  He was later to show up in another show where he continued to come up with words and phrases at odd times that seemed to always apply but still made everyone laugh.  It was often times when he would say things that were probably not in the script at all at which time the others in the show would laugh in spite of themselves.  I read about this fine entertainer and found out that he was active in many activities that helped children.  Maybe children of all ages!  He is also a family man. I took a good look at why I liked this man so much.  He was funny, yes.  He was talented., yes.  But there was something else.  I think that I zoomed in on what his real talent was and still is.  He is sincere.  In all of the times I have seen him perform I have never heard a harsh word out of his mouth.  All of his humor is clean and family style.  A natural humor that all of us ought to carry in our hearts. 

Last night as I was enjoying the show my thoughts went briefly back to my younger days.  I remember telling my family that all I wanted to do with my life was to make other people happy by making them laugh.  I sincerely wanted to be a stand up comedian.  I even took classes.  I would practice what I wanted to say at any occasion.  I was really into it all except that I had one small problem.  I wasn't funny.  So I got a paper route. 

So maybe that is why I have such a deep regard for that wonderful entertainer who does so much for all of us while keeping it all clean and worth while.

I sincerely wish that we had more decent entertainers like my friend (who doesn't even know me)  Tim Conway!

The thoughtful one

Every once in a while I hear a story that I think everybody aught to hear. And such is the story told by Oscar. (another made up name) I will tell you a little bit about Oscar but I will change some of it to protect the guilty.  And besides if I do it that way I can even lie about things if I choose to do so.

Oscar is almost as old as I am but he is a whole lot smarter.  And better, as you will see if you keep reading.  He is retired but, as is the case with most of us who have done such a crazy thing, he was bored.  So he started to do volunteer work.  His favorite is taking food, that has been prepared by other volunteers, to St. George's Kitchen.  I went with him a couple of times and cannot believe the good that happens there. Every day they feed many people, most of whom are homeless.  When you go there, even if you do just a little bit of work, you leave with a lump in your heart.  You feel like you have given a gift to God.  And instead of expecting God to say thank you you want to thank Him for the opportunity. 

But that is just part of the story.

Oscar decided that he would get a job somewhere to supplement his meager income.  So he got one at a large grocery store working as a bag boy.  Not too bad for a retired engineer, wouldn't you say?  He loves the job because he gets to talk to all the customers while he gives them smiles and wishes of good will.  He will tell you that he gets a lot more than he gives.  I know I am proud of him.

The policy of the store where he works does not allow tips.  He told me that when he helps people with their carts they more often than not offer him a tip.  He politely tells them that that is not acceptable at that store.  But sometimes they will insist.  So does he take it?  Yes he does, but not before telling them that he does not plan to keep it for himself, but that he is going to donate it to St George's Kitchen. If they ask he then explains to them just how wonderful St. George's Kitchen is and what they do for needy people.  Often they will reach into their wallets and add to the tip because they want to be a part.

Each person who does that leaves with a deep feeling that he or she has made our world a little bit better in which to live.  And from where I stand it makes them all a little bit better also.  Love your neighbor!  In true action.  That is why I am proud to call Oscar my friend.  Now I have three.

See you soon!  Volunteer somewhere, won't you?  Let's all work together to make this a better world to live in.

A simple but true story

Last night our 7:14 group met and we started our DO book.  Carole was sitting next to me and she wanted to tell us about a happening in her life.  She told it as if it were a small thing but I saw it as a great thing.  I will share it here and you can make up your own mind if you want to.

She told us that she was sitting on the airplane while coming back from a vacation trip.  There was an older lady sitting next to her who obviously was having trouble getting set in her seat.  And she dropped something on the floor in front of her.  If you have traveled by air lately you are aware that there is not much space between your knees and the seat in front of you. This of course rendered the older lady a problem.  How does one get down on the floor in such a small space especially when it is a time in life when it is hard to get around in any case?  And so as the lady twisted and turned without much success, Carole offered to pick up whatever she had dropped.  And she did.   As you can imagine the lady was very thankful and told Carole so. 

That is the whole story.  What do you think?  I think I know what I think.  As I listened to that short story I began to wonder.  How many people would have simply sat there and watched the older lady struggle and never offer a helping hand?  Or worse yet how many people would have become irritated by the struggle.  "Why doesn't that old woman sit still?  Can't she see I am trying to read?"  I sincerely hope not many.  But anyway my friend stepped up to the plate.  She helped the lady. 

I couldn't help wondering what I would have done in that case.  Would I have been too busy looking out of the window to even notice that she needed help.  Or maybe I would have bowed my head and prayed for God to help her.  I have never been in the running for the helper of the year award so I really don't know.  But this I do know.  Carole showed honest caring and love to a perfect stranger.  And I will always have a soft spot in my heart for that kind of thing.  It was a real random act of kindness. 

I pray each day for an opportunity to do something like that.  It may seem small but I think not.  It is what I see as real Christianity.  Love in action.  I want to be a part.  And I'll bet that you do, too.

The banjo

A friend recently asked me if I really did play the banjo.  He had seen my picture on this blog.  I wanted to tell him that not only do I play one but I am very good at it.  But I could not bring myself to lie like that.  So I think that today I will tell the true banjo story and get it off my chest after all these years.

It all started in 1950.  I was going to architectural school at the University of Cincinnati and each weekend I would walk down town just to look around.  I went by a pawn shop every time I walked and there was a four string tenor banjo hanging there for sale.  I asked them how much they wanted for it and was told ten dollars.  I thought that was a very reasonable price.  Only one problem.  I didn't have ten dollars.  So I joined three other students and went to Marion, Ohio and there we dug a swimming pool.  With shovels and a wheelbarrow.  And after three weekends we were paid fifteen dollars apiece.  I bought that banjo.  Then I took the rest of my hard earned money and took banjo lessons.  I had enough money for eight lessons including the sheet music. At the end of that time I could play four songs that I still play today.  I also learned that C, F, & G7 covers a multitude of songs if you sing real loud.

When I went into the Navy I took my banjo with me.  During boot camp I was threatened a lot of times but I was still able to take it with me during my two year time in the Philippines.  When my time was up there they told me that I could go home by air or ship but that I would not be allowed to take the banjo in the airplane.  I was homesick so I opted for air travel.  I gave my banjo to a friend there who didn't really want it and came on home. I thought that was a good decision because I could still only play four songs and I had noticed that my playing cost me a lot of friends.

Years later Linda gave me another banjo for Christmas.  I told you she was a fine woman!  I began to run her crazy as I practiced my four songs.  Then one day we had some friends over for dinner and I began showing pictures I had taken while I was in the Navy.  Two of our visitors were banjo players.  When they saw a picture of me while I was playing one of the guys jumped up and almost yelled to the other, "Bill had a Gibson Mastertone!"  For those of you who do not know much about banjos (And that would include me) a Gibson Mastertone is worth somewhere in the neighborhood of three thousand dollars.  And I gave it away to a guy who didn't want it.

I took lessons with the one Linda gave me and after about a year I could play the same four songs along with C, F, & G7.  I played with a banjo band here and they let me play as long as I didn't play very loud.  So you see, that is my banjo story.  I wanted to play a banjo more than I can explain but the biggest lesson I learned was that one has to have talent to play those things no matter how hard one is willing to practice. And so it is a pretty good bet that you will never hear me play.  That's because I love you and don't wish to make you unhappy.

Pray for me, won't you?





 

A Happy Group - 714

Last night was Betty's birthday.  She is eighty-six.  I don't think I will make it that long.  But she did and we all celebrated with her.  Being a Thursday our 7:14 group normally meets anyway so we decided to make it a birthday party.  Linda fixed three kinds of soup and other good eats and Shirley brought her great cole slaw.  We had cornbread and finished with a Coca Cola cake or, if you were fat, you could choose a sugar free (almost) pudding.  After eating we gave Betty cards and then Linda had the floor.  She first gave us a test to see if we could name a hymn for different professions.  Shirley knew just about them all.  Then the big time!  Linda opened a very large poster board that had all sorts of pictures of Betty Boop.  And when you are eighty-six you can remember people like that.  We all laughed and fun was had by all.  Now don't tell me that small fellowship groups can't have a good time.  Next week we start on our new study.  It is about how to actually DO something.

We decided that the first thing we would DO was to take care of the name tags that should be used at our church.  Some are going to build a rack where the name tags will hang, and then from week to week we will keep them up to date.  A pretty good first step, don't you think?  Someone said that our next step should be to go to business places and clean their toilets.  I am having trouble getting excited about that.  I did that while I was in the Navy and never did get a good feel for it.  It is going to be interesting to see what the next DO is going to be.  Maybe we will take out the garbage for old people or something else exciting. If you would like to join us in our DO efforts let me know and I will be glad to direct you to the proper place to join.

I just read this blog spot and it is really dull, isn't it?  I think I will quit and be back tomorrow.  Please don't judge all of my blogs by this one.

Still love you! 

FYI:  my email address is now wilkinswilliam@comcast.net  Try it. I will be glad to hear from you.

My Son Neal

When Max preaches I would shout if he read to his congregation from the telephone directory.  Why?  Because he is my Son and I love him. When Lee comes into a room I begin to laugh because he is funny when he wants to be and anyway he is my Son and I love him.  God gave us three fine sons and for that we are forever thankful.

I missed one you say?.  No I didn't because tonight I have a story just about Neal. 

Neal called me the other day and we talked a while about nothing in general.  Then he asked me if I had seen where the man had won $190,000,000.00 dollars.  He said that after taxes he only got $90,000,000.00.  We both agreed that we might be able to make do with that amount if we won such.  Then I asked him what he would do if he suddenly had that much money after I had told him that I would pay my bills with it as far as it would go, if indeed I had won it.  He said that he had spent some time thinking about such a thing.  And then he told me what I think is a perfect solution to using sudden wealth.  He said that in the area where he lives his neighbors call him the neighborhood fix-it man even  now.  And if he was all of a sudden extremely rich he would spend the rest of his time fixing things for people who needed it.  He has become active in his church and does a lot of that already but his dream seems to be to be able to spend ALL of his time helping those who needed it. 

Do you think that I am proud of him?  As you may have already surmised I do not need a reason to be proud of him.  I already am.  And I believe God is too.

All of this to say that this is what I have always believed.  Our God loves us simply because we are his children.  And that is true even when we don't do a whole lot for Him to be proud of.  I know that I don't. 

It causes me to remember  an old man who was a member of our church in Madisonville when I was a youngster.  His name was Sidney.  He was almost completely deaf and could barely see.  But each Sunday he would be seated on the front row of our church.  He would bow his head at the opening prayer and wake up during the benediction.  We all knew that he had not seen or heard any part of the service.  Our preacher asked him one time,"Sidney, why do you bother to come each Sunday.  You can't hear or see so you cannot possibly know what has been going on in the service."

Sidney would smile and reply,"Well you know, preacher, it does show whose side I am on."

And it did!

Some people do good things!

I don't really care much for golf.  And that seems to be a problem with my basic personality, I guess.  All of my friends seem to love it almost to a fault.  Putting a ball in a hole has never been much of a challenge to me but I must be the one who is wrong.  Too many people I know get very excited about it.  So it must be fun and I just never learned how to find it. 

Having said all this I thought maybe I ought to ask your forgiveness for the guilt I feel.  And I also want to take this opportunity to share a feeling of mine that somewhat concerns golf:

I don't know Morgan Pressel.  I am pretty sure she doesn't know me, either.  I do suspect, however, that you golfers out there do know her and know her well.  She must be a really good golfer because that is what the sports pages in our newspaper report fairly regularly.  I do know that she is young and cute, so as an old man it is all right for me to be proud of her.  And I am.  However it is not because of her golfing skills or her cuteness.  It is because of the article I read about her in today's paper.  It seems that she has taken a large portion of the money she makes from putting that little ball in that little hole and has bought a vehicle that can test women for breast cancer.  And she is only seventeen years old.  Being one of those crazy old men who has lost all faith in young famous people, I was elated to see that there are still ones coming up in the world who want to do something good for others.  I was under the false impression that all those famous people nowadays were on drugs or in jail, laughing at authority and feeling as though they were above all the rules the rest of us have to follow. You know, somewhat like politicians  Some may be that way but I guess that kind of news does sell papers so we don't hear much about the good ones.  Most of us do not like to read about the good ones.  Not much spicy stuff there, is it? 

Well I am proud of Morgan Pressel.  And I am proud of the other young famous people who have that same kind of mindset.  I don't have to name them.  You know who they are.  Let's be thankful for the good ones, O.K.!  Maybe one of them will grow up and run for president some day.  Go, Morgan.  I am rooting for you!  Put that ball in the hole.  I will cheer and it will be heartfelt and authentic.  Well done, girl!

Two more days

Yesterday Linda and I met with two old friends for breakfast.  We had not seen them for a long time.  We ate breakfast and chatted.  We chatted for a long, long time.  We had a lot of catching up to do. When we finally left the restaurant folks were grateful.  You see, it was lunch time already. Doesn't that sound like a fine day?  It was for me. 

Tom and Donna live in Georgia now.  And we found out that last year we almost lost Tom.  He has gone through a lot but today he looks young again.  Donna still has that smile that everybody loves.  We learned all about their children and we made them listen to all about ours, too.  We laughed to the point that all of the other guests at the restaurant were concerned about our sanity.  But we didn't care.  It was a special day.  I sincerely hope that we never reach the time in our lives that we do not enjoy old friendships.  They didn't make fun of me because I couldn't see well or hear well .  Then it became clear to me that that is how old friends treat each other.  There were no warts seen at our table.

That is all I wanted to share today.  It is still two days before my DSL is on another line so I must type fast.  That is hard to do with two fingers.  But before I go I have a request for you.  Today call a friend you haven't seen in a long while and renew that friendship.  I can guarantee that you will be happier.  I know I am.