Faith and the Southpaw

An interesting story from the Telegraph:

Left-handed people are more likely to be atheists, a study has found, as it says belief is passed on genetically.  The study suggests that religious people have fewer genetic mutations and are therefore less likely to be left handed or have conditions such as autism or schizophrenia.
British academic Edward Dutton, a professor at Oulu University, Finland, said that in pre-industrial times religiosity was passed on like other genetic attributes because it was associated with greater stability, mental health and better social behaviour. But modern science means many people who would not previously have survived are making it to adulthood and reproducing - leading to a greater incidence of atheism.

Lack of belief in God is connected to genetic mutations which cause attributes such as left-handedness or autism, the paper argues.

I know lefties that are believers and I know some right handed atheists. That said, the study is interesting. You should check out the link above.

Another left handed item of interest from the Guardian:

There is also research which purports to show that left-handers are more likely to be homosexual. So does that mean my son is more likely to, as they say, dress to the left ? 'That was a very small and badly conducted study,' says Lauren Milsom. A recent article in Psychological Bulletin disagrees. Collating many different studies, it concluded that gay men are more likely to be left-handers - at least in America, where the research was concentrated.

As a right handed American gay man, I can say I am the exception to the rule. I have known many same sex attracted individual and strangely, more often than not, they were left handed. I have also found this to be true among lesbians. Odd no? Why this would be, I cannot imagine, unless it's all tied up in genetics.

So the next time you spy a southpaw, check them out. There is a good chance he/she will be an autistic, atheist homosexual.

Not sure I'm buying what they are selling, but it is interesting.

Merry Christmas

It snowed on Sunday morning, just in time for Christmas. It was a nice, light coating and then it got beastly cold after. The temp got down to 9 degrees last night and it's headed for -2 by Tuesday night with two more chances for snow later in the week. So, I guess it's going to be winter after all. The only thing we can due is pray for April. At least the sun is out today.

With most Christmas blog posts we get the Christmas story from the gospel of Luke. I prefer to look ahead.

Revelation 1:7 New International Version (NIV)

7 “Look, he is coming with the clouds,”[a]
    and “every eye will see him,
even those who pierced him”;
    and all peoples on earth “will mourn because of him.”[b]
So shall it be! Amen.

The Day is coming and coming in soon. The shofar will announce it. The eastern sky will open up and all who have not believed will then know and that knowledge will be damning. But to us of the Faith, the hope that came as a babe wrapped in swaddling clothes will be returning to claim His own.
That great gettin up morning.

Come on back Lord. The times are ripe. We are anxious. Bring it! Let justice be done, let the mighty fall and raise up your children victorious. It's time. Maranatha!

"Lips That Have Touched Alcohol Will Never Touch Mine"

This is what my paternal Grandmother would say, most especially to my Grandfather. Alcoholic beverages were, to them, the Devil's brew. They were believers in prohibition. As Christians, it was their view that the use of alcohol, for any reason, was a sin. This was also tradition in our family for generations. It was not negotiable. Never mind that even Paul said to take some wine for your stomach's sake or that Jesus raised a glass of wine at the last supper or even made gallons of the stuff wedding feast at Cana. To hear them tell it, none of this wine was alcoholic. As to where the apostles got unfermented wine in April for the last supper/Passover is beyond me. Perhaps it was an unmentioned miracle. Whatever.

Gramps used to tell a story about enjoying some 3.2 beer with some other farm hands on a hot day. It nearly ended in his divorce. Grandma was apoplectic. She did not really understand the difference between being drunk and having a beer or two. Not many in the old fundy and evangelical churches did understand this. Needless to say, Grandpa did not go there again. He did, however, keep a bottle of the liquid version of Geritol in the laundry room on the top shelf. I walked on him taking a few serving spoonfuls more than once. Back in the day, this kind of Geritol was about 50% alcohol even though the label said that it was for "iron poor tired blood", whatever that is. Gramps also liked him some chewing tobacco and he would smoke a cigar if someone gave him one. Grandma would let him get away with these things as long as no one else heard about them.   

The lines we evangelical Christian types draw around things that we think approach sinful behavior is sometimes amusing. In this day in age, most evangelicals will have a drink or two, but there are still some that keep to the old ways and you never really know who you will offend with your presence in the liquor store check out line. Old ways die hard and sometimes, even though I think it's OK to have a toddy or two with dinner, I feel like I'm sneaking around when I go to make my alcoholic purchase.

I went to the liquor store on Wednesday to buy some beer. I like craft beers and I was bored with what was in the refrigerator so I went to buy something different. When I got there, in the parking lot I spied one of the church elders waiting in his car. I supposed his wife was inside shopping and thought nothing of it. This particular elder had seen me there before. He knew I was a "consumer" of such things. Again, I thought nothing of it. I went in and went about my business. It took me awhile. There are many choices and I wanted something I had not had before. When I finally made my decision and was pulling it off the shelf, I heard a very, very loud female voice speaking to me.

"Hi Jeff, it seems like we see other here more than we see each other at church". This was trailed by loud and obnoxious laughter as she wheeled her cart out the door. It was the elder's wife of course. The elder had seen me go in and texted his wife to have her exit through the liquor store and have a bit of a joke at my expense.

It worked extremely well. I felt my face flush as I turned, 4 pack in hand, to go to the check out. She was laughing all the way out the door. It was funny and it proved to me that I am still conditioned to feel guilty about alcohol consumption. I'm a sixty year old man. When am I going to break the restraints? Not sure.

It was funny though. I would buy her a beer if she wanted one.   

Thoughts on Rudolph

After decades of hearing the song annually everywhere I go, I have concluded that Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer is a metaphor for something else.

You see, I have come to believe that Rudolph was (is) a gay ginger. It explains so much about him. It's why the other reindeer used to laugh and call him names. It's why they never let poor Rudolph join in any reindeer games.

It's also very odd how his disabilities lead to advantage when circumstances dictated the need. All it took was a bit of fog for everyone to see Rudolph in a different light

Then how the reindeer loved him....he went down in history.

Looks pretty gay to me....just sayin'

Winter Soltice 2017

December 21, 2017 - the winter solstice. The sun reaches its lowest point in the southern sky creating the shortest day and longest night of the year. In ancient times it was celebrated as the Saturnalia, the time of death and rebirth of the sun god. The ancients would party for a week. Slaves were allowed to do as they pleased.

On December 25th, the rebirth of the sun would become more obvious. Days would grow progressively longer and the nights shorter. In four months time, the earth would begin to recognize this and respond by once again producing life after a long winter of discontentment culminating in the vernal equinox.

And so it has gone, century in and century out, for millenia.

As to exactly how the birth of Jesus Christ came to be recognized as occurring at the same time as the rebirth of the sun (god) - well that's a simple matter really. Or not. Some blame Emperor Constantine. Others blame the ancient church that wanted to display their victory over the pagans by taking over their holidays. Whatever the case, I find it very doubtful that Christ was born into this world on December 25th.

Even so, as a Christ follower myself, I find I must cling to Him at this time of year because the darkness is so great, I fear it will overtake me. Many that live in the northern hemisphere would agree with me. The darkness and cold are too much to bear. Perhaps I should move to South America. If only I spoke Spanish.

Whatever the case, we do live in interesting times. Many of the heroes of the social justice wars are falling and continue to fall. There is the scent of real justice in the air. They have been foisted on their own petards. Pray this continues. The outlook is bright. May God bless the efforts of the Emperor.

You see, despite the darkness, I have hope. A light burns in me that was placed there by the Nazarene. His Father is in control and His plans work even now to the ultimate good of all who have this Light and love Him. So let the dark come. It will soon pass away

Victory is at hand.

Not sure what all that was about, but I needed to write something. Thanks for sticking with me as I plow through the darkness.

I have Invented A New Drink

Fill a very tall glass with ice. Add two shots of tequila. Pour in a can of Fresca. Add a dash of grenadine and your done.
I call it a Kidney Infection.
Mmmmmmmm.
One before dinner and one after. You are set.
Try one.

THE BEST MILO INTERVIEW EVER

Milo Yiannopoulos is my favorite political commentator. He is gay, Alt-right, anti feminist and pro Trump. His mind is incredible. We need more like him. He is Greek, Jewish and Catholic. What a mix. I love diversity on the right when it comes together this way.  He is also young, which gives me hope for the future. Please watch the video below. If he does not offend you, he is not doing his job.

Check out Milo's website.

Reliving The Wound

Henri Nouwen was a Catholic priest born in the Netherlands. He was famous for, among other things, his concept of the wounded healer. When he taught at Yale, he published a book about it called, "The Wounded Healer: Ministry in Contemporary Society".

The notion of  the 'wounded healer' is the idea that, although the one giving pastoral care is broken spiritually in some way, he can still bring healing to others. The advantage here is the healer's brokenness. Our wounds enable us to serve. Our weaknesses become strength; the power to help God's other wounded children see hope in the face of misery. Nouwen said it this way:

“I have been increasingly aware that true healing mostly takes place through the sharing of weakness. [I]n the sharing of my weakness with others, the real depths of my human brokenness and weakness and sinfulness started to reveal itself to me, not as a source of despair but as a source of hope.”

He also said,

"There was a time when I really wanted to help the poor, the sick, and the broken, but to do it as one who was wealthy, healthy, and strong. Now I see more and more how it is precisely through my weakness and brokenness that I minister to others."

He was an interesting man. After leaving his teaching job at Yale, Nouwen went to work in Toronto at a place called Daybreak which was a community for the severely disabled. He was charged with the care of one patient named Adam that was plagued with severe epileptic seizures. His last book, "Caring for Adam" was about that experience. In it, Nouwen describes how his initial approach with Adam did not work. Apparently he tried to push Adam more and more - to fix him as it were. This failed. Nouwen came to realize that Adam would never improve from his present state, that he would never be able to achieve anything. Acceptance of this was hard, but what Henri learned was equally difficult. The very best service that Henri could give to Adam was simply to be there for him and to help him. As Nouwen said, “the true task of life might be the task to live our life faithfully in communion with the Lord [rather] than to change it.”

I think that last one is my favorite line. Faithfulness is more important than change, especially when change is not an option or it's impossible.

The facts are very disconcerting. Sometimes the wounds do not heal. They will never heal.

Not long after Nouwen's death, someone at the BBC outted Henri as gay. As a Catholic priest, he was of course celibate. No one has ever accused him of anything else. But to my mind, this has to have been part of his 'wound'. As one who has lived the celibate gay life for decades, I understand this in ways that you, dear reader, do not - cannot. The wound is coupled with loneliness.

Phillip Yancey said of Nouwen, “I go back through [his] writings and sense the deeper, unspoken agony that underlay what he wrote about rejection, about the wound of loneliness that never heals, about friendships that never satisfy.”

If we, in the church who are gay are also to live faithfully, then we must embrace celibacy and everything that goes with it including the pain of loneliness and friendships that do not complete us.

We cannot change who we are, but we can remain faithful though our wounds remain and we must relive them daily in our cause.

Some will recoil at that statement. As I look back at my steps over my past 60 years, enabled to view all the mistakes I have made, I no longer recoil. As I recall, our Lord's resurrected body still bore the wounds of his brutal death. Even so, Thomas knelt and proclaimed, "my Lord and My God". My spiritual scars are nothing in comparison except reminders of how much better my life is with Him than without Him. His wounds are a healing balm to me. They roll back some of my pain. I am enabled, despite my woundedness, to help myself and others.

Dark and Cloudy

The sky is weird today. It's almost 0930 in the morning and it seems quite dark...dark, cold and gloomy. It is not windy today though, and I think it may warm up enough later that I can get the lawn sweeper out and pick up some leaves.

Thanks to everyone for putting up with my rant yesterday. I am OK, just screwed up like usual. I am not dangerous to myself or anyone else. A friend suggested some therapy. I may do that. It's too cold to go fishing (which is the best therapy).

This is the time of year that the sun kind of dies in the sky. It will soon be dark from 0430 PM to 0900 AM. It sort of turns me into a wackjob. I keep threatening to get one of those light therapy units that they use in Alaska. I may order one today. It might help. I understand why so many people move south for the winter. It's not just the cold. It's the darkness. I might order some motivation too. Surely Amazon has some. They have everything else.

At least Halloween is over. Now we can get on with the rest of the foolishness and into 2018.

I should go home now. I actually do have things I could be doing. Constructive things. Why wait for the motivation to be delivered? I could make some of my own. I used to know the recipe. Lately, I've been slow cooking procrastination. It's always best when prepared that way and served with a side delay sauce. It makes for good stew too. I am so funny.

Stew does sound good though. I might just put some together in the crock pot today. That should make the whole house smell like wintertime. Note to self....stop at Hy-Vee on the way home.

Later friends. I gotta make a grocery list.

What's Wrong With Me...

Some at church have asked me if I'm all right. The answer is no.

I got some guidance from a commenter on a blog we both frequent. He came up with this and it really describes the plight of the SSA man that wishes to remain celibate or without a male partner. Here it is...

 Legitimate "Issues" I Face

1 Spiritual Clarity & Understanding
2 Human Loneliness
3 A Desire for Masculine Validation
4 A Desire for Brotherly Connection
5 A Desire for Male Intimacy
6 A Desire for Male Touch
7 A Low Self-Esteem
8 A Need to Soberly Value Myself
9 Depression and Stress

I have been juggling all those balls for as long as I can remember. It's why I think about giving up all the time. I can't juggle worth shit to be perfectly frank. It's all so over-powering. And before you start to give me the standard Christian advice - pray - you need to think about what you're saying. I've spent 50 years doing that. There is a void in my life that NOTHING seems to fill. The only reason I do not give up is because I don't think having a man will solve the issues either. Until now, I have always had distractions - my job, my Dad, my church. Two of those are now gone and the hole in my heart is staring me in the face every day. There is no healing for it.

The nine things listed are just core issues. Surrounding these issues are other neuroses that complicate the matter. God does not fix them and I feel powerless. Number six above is a big problem. I detest being touched, even though I want it. Ya, crazy right?

When I throw in all the other normal stuff going on, I feel overwhelmed most of the time.

So the next time you ask what is wrong with me, please refer to this list and then we can talk. You might be sorry you asked. Someone accused me recently of being unwilling to let people help me. I have kept these things to myself because YOU CAN'T HELP ME. None of you would have any idea how to untangle this knot. These are God sized problems that God is content to leave me with. I have no clue why. Do you?  It's a wonder I made it to 60.

OK. I'm done. I hope I don't regret putting this out there.

News Of The Week In Review (NOTWIR) 10/28/2017

It was a fairly boring week. I cut the church service after class on Sunday and escaped to the Temple in Panora for my worship service. I worshipped in Spirit and Truth and mostly with a Mepps Bucktail #2. The small mouth bass were not enormous, but there were many. On the way home I slid down to Redfield, but while the temple there is beautiful, I did not catch as many fish. Redfield is a sleepy little town where the American Legion hall is nicer than city hall, there is one classy restaurant, no Subway and one Casey's. It's kind of perfect. There is a house on the north side of town that looks like it may have been built in the 1920's. It's in original condition and has the Middle Raccoon river in it's backyard. In my imagination, I was wondering what it would be like to live there. The notion of moving to a new city kind of excited me. If they only had a Hy-Vee and a pizza place, but I digress.

Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday blew...literally. It was windy for most of the rest of the week. I did get some more fish caught in spite of the considerable breeze. I also noticed it was getting progressively colder.

Friday I used to do laundry, read and watch movies on Amazon. It was cold, windy and spit snow off and on a good portion of the day. Friday night I went out with the boys from church. This is turning into a bit of a club. We get together every other Friday for dinner and talk. Right now we are three in number. I hope we will be expanding soon. From my perspective, this is a very good thing. I get 'man' time with straight Christian guys, they get the advantage of having someone in their group that has had a different kind of life. We learn from each other, joke with each other and love each other. It's what real Christian men do together in some respects. Since we are all single for one reason or another, it helps us deal with loneliness too. The things we talk about when we are together are considered confidential and right now, so is our membership roll. We are planning a Thanksgiving gathering in November at a local restaurant. Other will be invited. This may begin the expansion of our group. It will be interesting to see what develops.

I want to do a brief review of one of the movies I watched on Friday. It was called "Southern Baptist Sissies". It was about four SSA boys that grew up in the same Baptist church in Texas. It was more a play than a movie; a play that had been filmed before a live audience. The stage was set like the inside of any average evangelical or fundamentalist church building, complete with pews, Off to one side of the stage there was another set. It was supposed to be a specific table in a local gay bar where two of the regular customers sat next to the piano player. Some of the funniest lines in the movie happen during those scenes. The piano guy was also the pianist at the Baptist church, making the whole thing funnier.



The story line concerns how growing up in the fundie environment can effect SSA people. The writer/director of the film obviously has a lot of grudge like baggage that derives from his personal experiences in the church and it comes out in the script in both dramatic moments and comedy moments. The story that is told is true and the writer is one of the four boys in real life.

I would stop just short of recommending this to Christian friends because of the frankness of  the script and some scenes of near nudity that might be misinterpreted. The message of this movie/play is one that Christians need to hear, but the sarcasm and snark with which the message is delivered would most likely just create anger rather than promote understanding. In some ways, it is the mirror image of some of the judgments we see delivered from Christian pulpits today.

If you are feeling up to it, feeling daring, go ahead and watch it. It's available on Amazon Prime for free. You might make sure the kids are in bed first. It will make you wonder how a place like church, that is supposed to be about love, grace and forgiveness, can leave young men hopeless and hating themselves.

It resonated deeply with me in many ways.

Hard freeze tonight. Bring in the brass monkey. See you in church tomorrow. Maybe ;^)

The Bugs of Autumn

We really need a hard freeze. Insects are currently a massive problem. They seem to be swarming by species, just waiting to die as the clock of Fall continues to tick down to Winter. Right now I am sitting on the east deck. I am being attacked by all manner of flying insects, biters and non biters. It's worse than at any time in summer. The only remedy will be a killing frost I think. It's time.

The tiniest of them all is the no-see-um. They are the size of a black pepper speck and they can fly through screen doors with ease. They are like tiny black dots that bite and they can also fly. Apparently they are a species of sand flea. Here is a heavily magnified picture.

Very nasty little buggers! You do not even know they are on you until they bite you.

The lady bugs are also swarming. There seem to be an alarming number of them and they also bite. Some have no black spots on their red orange wing covers and these seem to be the worst biters.

Then there is the box elder bugs. These are currently swarming around the garage door of the house in large groups. I'm guessing there are 3 to 400 of them right now, They do not bite, but they land on you when standing in the driveway. They get in your pants and crawl into your ears. If they fly into your mouth, the taste is incredibly awful.

j

Finally, there is the brown marmorated stink bug. They tend to swarm outside in window sills  of the house and somehow...somehow, they manage to get inside around screen edges and door jams. This is kind of amazing considering how big they are. They can fly, but my observation has been that it's like they are drunk. They crash into walls, windows and people before attaching themselves to whatever. The first instinct is to smash them if they land on you. My advice is 'don't'. True to their name they do stink when smashed. You will have to change your t-shirt or pants or whatever if you do not want to smell their repulsive odor all day. Spiders will not even eat them is they land in their web. The best way to dispose of them is to grab them in a tissue, then smash them and flush them. They do not bite.  I did an experiment with one of these beetles. I threw it in the toilet alive. He just swam around like it was a day at the beach. I put a piece of toilet paper on top of it and he flipped over and walked upside down under water on the wet TP sheet. Once it found the edge of the paper, it climbed on top of the wet sheet and walked around. Water is not a good weapon against them unless you flush. No it is living happily ever after in the septic tank I suppose. Please see the brown marmorated stink bug below.

Time to shoot a squirrel now. Got to go bang bang.

The Mosquito In My Eye and The Week So Far

Monday was boring. The most exciting thing I did was to get the oil changed in my truck and the right head light replaced.

Tuesday was a bit more exciting. I woke up to this huge floater inside my right eye. At first I thought it might be something on the outside surface. I rinsed it for awhile under the kitchen faucet. The rinsing had no effect. The floater remained.

If I had to describe it, I would say it looked like a mosquito hovering just up and to the right of my right eye. Sometimes it looks like a very thin legged spider as it moves down to my central field of vision. It does this when I am reading. It's all very annoying and scary, especially when I consider that my eye doctor told me I was a good candidate for closed angle glaucoma. I wondered if maybe a portion of my retina had become detached.

So I got in to see my eye doctor Tuesday afternoon. He checked my eye pressure first. It was normal in both eyes; no closed angle glaucoma, yea! He then dilated my eyes, pulled over his scope and had a look at my retina and optic nerve. Both retinas were normal...again, yea! Then he managed to isolate the floater in my right eye and studied it. He determined that the vitreous humor had sloughed off a bit 'skin' (for lack of a better term) back by the place it connects with the optic disk. The vitreous humour (body) is the fluid in your eye between the lens and the retina.  Apparently, when we are younger, the vitreous humour is like gelatin that is set up. As we age, it becomes more the consistency of egg whites and sometimes the skin of the gelatin will break loose in they eye as the vitreous humour loses it's gelatinous quality. And so, we end up with floaters. The scientific terminology for these floaters was unknown to me until just now. WEB MD says this:

Most floaters are small flecks of a protein called collagen. They're part of a gel-like substance in the back of your eye called the vitreous. As you age, the protein fibers that make up the vitreous shrink down to little shreds that clump together. The shadows they cast on your retina are floaters.

It would seem that my floater, AKA collagen, is quite large, at least from my POV. So, I will visit my regular doctor on Monday to see if he can get me a referral to an opthamologist. I cannot live with this mosquito hovering around my right eye forever. The optometrist said that it would eventually ball up and become smaller and that my visual cortex would stop seeing it altogether, but I am doubting this diagnosis. It is still driving me nuts. If there is anything that can be done to fix it, I am going to do it.

On Wednesday I went fishing. Caught several small mouth bass, but no walleye. I went out to Panora. That's pretty much a day trip, but I enjoy it.  It's really beautiful there in the fall. Here are some pics.

 

Today I'm doing chores. I may get out the lawn sweeper later and pick up some leaves. As for Friday and Saturday, it remains to be seen. And Sunday...that's another story that I'm loathe to go into. I think I will leave it at that.

Thought For The Day

"Remember to love your neighbor as yourself. And if you hate yourself, then please just leave your neighbor alone." 

Jon Stewart

Panora on the Middle Raccoon River and The Unexpected Lesbian

Since my favorite local fishing spot was inundated by water last week, thanks to the Corp of Engineers, I was forced to move on. I have fished the Middle Raccoon many times below the dam at Panora with limited success, but I had an especially nice time this week. Wednesday I caught a nice 5 LB Walleye and Thursday was really good. 15 small mouth bass, all 10 to 12 inches long and another Walleye at around 2.5 LB. I had fun. Pictures below.

Jesus also showed me I was an unregenerate idiot yesterday while I was fishing. From across the river, I saw a guy walk down the bank to fish. He was setting off my gaydar. He was 30 something, cute, from where I was standing, nice shoulders. So I worked my way over there to get a better look. Then it happened. He spoke. Asked me how fishing was. It was then I detected the problem. He was a woman; no hips, flat chest, short hair, very masculine in appearance, a woman. Wow.

I can't even go fishing to meet men, even when there was no plan to take him home with me. I was window shopping really, that's all, just looking and the Lord laughs from heaven and I swear I could hear Him as the woman spoke and then I started laughing and my new friend said, "what's so funny?"
I said, "oh nothing". Then I told her how the fishing was, what I had been catching and what I had been using to do it, then slowly moved on after some more pleasantries.

Now, she could have been a lesbian, probably was, and that's what set off the gaydar, but even so, I used to detect these things before engagement took place. She was nice enough. I have no problem with having women friends, even lesbians. It was just the way it happened. My intentions were not good to begin with, if I'm honest, and I think the Lord knew this and decided to let me crash and burn in personal internal embarrassment. I would not put it passed Him to have changed this "man" into a woman as he walked down to the river bank, just to thwart my intent and have a good laugh. I guess it's good that He watches me like that. I should have taken her picture with my phone along with the fish for show and tell, but I had to throw her back ;^)

And now for the fish...

What's in the above two photos is the Walleye I caught on Wednesday on a rattle trap. You can see that it's about twice as long as my size 12 and weighed over 5 Lb.

Below is a sample of the Small Mouth Bass I was catching on Thursday. I got about 15 of those on a Mepps Bucktail #2. And below that, is another Walleye I got Thursday that weighed about 2 LB, also on a Mepps Bucktail. 

I'm not sure how much the lesbian weighed, but it might have been fun wrestling with her. She looked pretty tough, probably would have kicked my ass. Odd how I found a masculine woman attractive is it not? There is some weird, twisted message in that which needs decoding I think. Hmmm.

Stink Bugs Popping on an Open Fire

I should write bylines for news websites. That title is click bait. It's Tuesday, October 10 and the temp is a bit brisk at  47 degrees. The rain and wind make it seem even colder. I have a fire going in the fire place. The blower is on and it's heating things right up in here.

A funny thing happened when I opened the flue. Stink bugs started dropping out of the chimney. I quickly built my fire and the stink bugs began to explode. It made me laugh. If you're a bug lover that practises ahimsa, you might be thinking I'm a unholy terror. You would be right. My war on stink bugs is just the beginning. I also proudly exterminate squirrels, opossums, raccoons and ground hogs, though not in the fireplace. So if I have triggered you, it might be time to go. I'm sure you're a lovely special snowflake that loves all God's creatures. I am not. Go now. Live long and prosper. Be warmed and filled. Sin no more.

Enough sarcasm. 

I have been negligent in posting and I do apologize. Little of import has happened, but I have had some fun fishing and going to movies and what not. I went to see 'IT' back in September in the theatre. Not as good as a book of course, but how can you get a book that's two inches thick into two hours of movie? You can't. They did do a good job relaying the tension of the book and they seem to have gotten the malevolent force in the movie correct, but they fell short in relaying the history of the town it takes place in and the development of the other major characters in film. They did manage to get the point of the book across however. We must overcome our most basic fears if we wish to grow up. Everything else was all pretty much a blur. I'm not sure I would have fully understood everything had I not read the book. Overall, it was enjoyable though. I understand there will be a part two. Here's to hoping it's better.   

Today I took advantage of discount Tuesday at Cinemark in Altoona. I went to see "Blade Runner 2049". It was very well done. Ryan Gosling was perfect for his part and Harrison Ford reprized his roll in most excellent fashion. I would advise you to watch the original "Blade Runner" if you wish to fully appreciate this one. I think it's available on Amazon Prime. At the risk of spoiling it, (stop here if you intend to watch the movie) replicants learn to reproduce. 'Nough said.

My fishing hole on the Des Moines River is now swamped in rising water thanks to the recent rainfall and the Corp of Engineers reluctance to retain said rain in the lake above the dam. So it will be awhile, maybe next summer before I will be able to get back there. They were releasing a lot of water. Maybe they are getting ready for winter. Not sure. Whatever the case, I caught some interesting fish last week. Maybe the fish were not so interesting, but the lure I used was unusual in some cases. All of the pictures below represent a two day period last week. I caught the fish on a rattle trap. If you do not know what that is, you are just not a fisherman. Usually you would catch bass on a rattle trap. I caught many things besides bass. Here you go.

Flathead Catfish

Walleye

Wiper

Small Mouth Bass

Carp Caught On a Rapala Tail Dancer

In all, it was a fun time. I think I will just sit here and reflect by the fire and sip my Strawberry Margarita. Not sure what's for supper yet. Maybe hamburgers on the George Foreman. These are tough decisions when one is retired. I could just order a pizza. Remains to be seen 

EOM Fishing

I had a really good finish to a month of good fishing last week. It lead me to ponder why it is that I never seem to catch as many fish or even bigger fish when I go fishing with others. I think I have the answer and it's incredibly stupid.

I cannot fish and talk at the same time. The quality of both my fishing skills and my discussion skills drops when I try to do the two things at once. More correctly, I become more interested in the conversation than I am in the fishing.

For many people, fishing is a social thing. I get that. I have enjoyed that on many occasions. For me though, there is nothing like getting out stream side by yourself and figuring out what it will take to pull quality fish. It is a challenge, a puzzle, that completely distracts my mind from everything else when I am by myself. And, right now, I need distractions from toxic thinking. The Lord has provided. See below.

Another factor in my fishing proficiency seems to be location. I do best when fishing streams and rivers. I am not sure why this is. I like working a stream bank or even being in the stream while fishing. Boats are nice, but trying to control the boat and fish at the same time is difficult. Again, it's that principle of trying to do two things at once successfully. I have never really mastered that art. I think I will pick up some new tackle today and go back out this afternoon. I love it.

God and the Blessedness of Jeff Brady

Maybe I should have called this post "Taking Inventory", because that's what I've been doing. My current mental ague seems to be lifting. I can see things more clearly. My Angels prodded me into talking last night and I feel much better. Thanks ladies. I had a good time.

As a side note, we all went out to celebrate my 60th birthday. Went to the Big Steer restaurant in Altoona. The place was packed, but the food was good and the waiter was bear-like, cute and very nice. I was hoping for a birthday kiss, but I didn't get one. I suppose it just would not have looked right and he would have been expected to kiss everyone else too. Oh well. He did bring me a free ice cream sundae as a consolation prize.

I also wondered if there was supposed to be some subliminal joke buried in taking me to a place called the Big Steer, but I do tend to overthink things, so probably not. I got a Caribou gift card which is good since I live on a fixed income now. I also got a 'first alert' type device in case I fall and can't get up. I was looking at it this morning and debating if I really needed to activate the thing yet. I think the yellow jacket incident made them all think I might die on accident. I do stumble quite a bit. I would not want to be setting it off accidently; even so, it would be nice to have in case the lawn mower ends up on top of me or it chops off my arm or something. Whatever. I love the gift and I will wear it with pride and a sense of security.

Back to taking inventory, I have of late been reviewing my life from a spiritual perspective and I was dissappointed with the results I was coming up with. I think this is because of a number of issues, the first one being that, as I said, I tend to overthink things. I have gone from having way too much responsibility to having none in a very short period of time. Too much time to think.

I also have much unresolved guilt and anger over my relationship with my dead father. There is a forgiveness problem there that I have never properly dealt with that I finally discussed with the Angels last night. It was sort of a breakthrough for me. It's going to require some healing time. I blamed God for much of this because it was easier than blaming myself and much easier than looking at it and saying it is what it is. We are all bent in different ways. My Dad had his own demons and I'm sure he dealt with them the best he could. In my life, I have never been able to see this properly until now. Yes, it was always about me.

The whole thing has been blinding me to the love my heavenly Father has for me. I think sometimes we see Him through the lens of who our own earthly fathers were and this can jade the relationship with our God. He is not like a man...any man. I have always known this intellectually. I need to make this a spiritual realization.

I complained awhile back that God had not changed me as I had expected, but in review, that really was not a fair charge. I see much that has changed when I take off my blinders and look honestly at what He has done for me. Materially, I have NEVER known need. Even when I was poor and had to work two jobs, I never missed a meal. I always had a place to live and tranportation. I have NEVER been unemployed. Even now in retirement, I do not believe it will be possible for me to exhaust my resources before death. I am set.

It's in the spiritual realm that I have always felt a deficit. My knowledge of allgedly spiritual things is great. I am wise in the meaning of the Scriptures and skilled in relating that knowledge to others. It is a gift for which I am grateful. Had I been more extroverted, I might have been a good pastor. But having always seen God through the lens of my father, I never thought I was good enough to do much of anything. When I coupled that with my SSA, I thought I was just cursed by God for not being a good son or good enough. It all worked together to make me too up tight to fall in love with my heavenly father or His other children.

At 60, I'm beginning finally to see that I can create my own reality with Him. I can see that He has made me more patient - a kinder and gentler Christian than I ever was before. He had showed me the limits of my own willpower and made me aware of how my bluntness has hurt others. He got me through almost 6 years of trying to care for my father - a man I did not like very much. He has showed me how I am like Dad in good ways and especially the bad ways.

The time has come now to complete the process and seal my relationship with Him. Prayer has been hard for me. Three independent sources in my life have suggested I take up a Christian form of meditation. This I will most likely do. I want desperately to feel the presence of God in my life as part of who I am and not just some impersonal outside force that sees to my needs. I do not want to die as a Pharisee and rule keeper. I want to know change inside and out and to realy understand what is meant in the Serenity Prayer.

I have the rest of my life to do this Please pray that the Lord and I can make this happen.  Thanks for being patient with me. I don't think He's done with me yet.

I love you.

They Walk Among Us

As many of you know, I am an old school conspiracy theorist, part of the original batch that came of age in the late 60's. My natural paranoia seems to feed the whole thing and so my psychosis feeds my neurosis.

I guess it's just a gift.

So with that in mind, I would like to offer you my latest theory about aliens which I am sure will captivate and innervate all of you to the point of belief.

For years, there have been jokes about people who shop at Walmart. I'm sure you've seen the viral emails. Pictures of weird looking folks in all manor of garb, with missing teeth, varicose veins and magenta colored hair. The really bizarre part of this is that's it's not just a joke. As we all know, there are people like that at Walmart all the time. I would like to think it's just trailer trash and working class white folks, but it seems like they are always in there, always shopping, always milling about the store and sometimes in the same clothes from one day to the next. So, I got to thinking about it.

I believe that Walmart stores are portals and perhaps even hatcheries for aliens from other worlds or dimensions. They incubate in the bowels of the stores, hatch, and are then assigned a shopping cart to mill about the store until they fully pupate and then they are released from the "hive" where a car awaits them and they go to work in the community. Those that do not reach full maturity after hatching are made into employees and allowed to stay in the store to help them assimalate for release at a later date. It all starts when the aliens deposit their eggs at Walmart distribution centers. From there, they are packaged and trucked to the store hives in all parts of the nation. They are cultivated in massive underground caverns that lie beneath every Walmart store until they hatch.

So the next time you are at Walmart and you see a short, fat woman wrapped heavily in yellow spandex with navy blue hair, a see-thru blouse and a buttocks wider than her cart, you will know you've seen an alien, probably fresh out of the hive. Sometimes they will have smaller aliens with them that appear to be out of control, dirty and noisy. These smaller ones are what is called prehatches. They left the hive too early and get assigned to the larger more mature variety. I know you're thinking these are just unruly children. Don't be tricked.

I know too, that you thought Walmart was just a thrift store started by Sam Walton years ago with hard work and tenacity. The truth is that Sam Walton and his family have been the beneficiaries of an agreement between the alien worlds and the US government to replace the population of our planet with these Walmartians. It's only a matter of time before all of us real humans will be gone. It's also why North Korea has worked so hard to keep Walmart out of the hermit kingdom.

It's really too late to do anything about this. FEMA is just waiting for the next national crisis. In an emergency, they will send us all to Walmart under the notion that we will all receive supplies and instructions. Instead, we will be encapsulated in hibernation chambers, trucked to Walmart distribution centers and transferred by aliens to their home planets to be used as a food supply.

One might ask why our government would do this. I can only say that they wanted a more compliant work force that they could tax more heavily without objection. This has also been the dream of the class of elite humans that will be left after the process is complete - you know - those folks that would never shop at Walmart!

When it happens, just remember, you heard it here first. September 23rd is coming up. That might be the day.   Do Not go to Walmart that day. Just a thought.

So, do you think I'm onto something? Ya, you know I'm right.

Nothing Measures Up

Have you enjoyed times in your life where you thought everything was perfect?

I have had a couple of times like that in my nearly 60 years of life. The earliest one goes back to when I was between 3 and 4 years old. We lived in Bondurant in a small rented house. Kelly Dean Jones lived across the street and he was my best friend. We spent hours together getting into trouble, fighting and playing in his sand pile that his cat thought was a litter box.

My parents were young. Dad worked at a Dairy. And Mom stayed home to take care of me. We would go places together. Mom would take me shopping for goldfish. I was fascinated even then by fish. At night Dad would come home. We would go for rides in the car and I would fall asleep, miraculously waking up in my bed the next morning. We went to Dairy Queen, the A&W drive in and Millie's. We went to church on Sundays and Grandpa and Grandma's on weekends. I had a beagle named Buppy...(don't ask) and my world was good....perfect. I had everything a kid could want in 1960 and we were not rich, not by a long shot.

And then something happened. I can't say what it was (won't), but our relationships changed. We moved to Des Moines, I went to school, Mom went to work part time and Dad seemed to stay at work as much as possible. Everything seemed like it was ruined. Dad did not like me anymore, Mom was too tired to do stuff, and Kelly Dean was far away in Bondurant. On weekends, I got farmed out to Grandpa and Grandma. That was not bad. It really was a farm and a farm is an education for a city kid and I had a good time. Only child types tend to create worlds in their heads and that's what I did. I talked to myself a lot.

You do that when you spend most of your life alone. And now at 60, I'm doing it again. Everyone of them has left me. I should have expected it. They were always doing that. They always came back before though.  

All those people are dead now. They weren't perfect, but I loved them. Now I truly am an orphan. My imagination does not work nearly as well as it once did, so imaginary friends are hard to come by. I guess I never thought there would be a time when I could not talk to them. And that's odd, because I have seen death take many people that I have been close to. Nothing is forever I guess except God. Not even perfect moments. I'm glad I had some. Heaven is supposed to be like that. We will see if that's true soon enough. Will there be anymore perfect moments? I guess that's up to me isn't it...and the grace of God.      

How Are You Feeling?

That's a normal question that normal people ask each other. Me? Not so much. I'm not feeling much of anything besides paranoia, emptiness and a vague sense of meaninglessness. Certainly these are not markers of a man within whom the Holy Spirit resides.

I touched on this several weeks ago. The symptoms do not seem to be improving.

I was reminded of the whole thing on Sunday while teaching class at church. We are studying Peter's letters to the churches in Asia Minor and somewhere midway through chapter 4 of First Peter he writes that we should be clear minded and self controlled so that we can pray. It struck me that I am never clear minded and I have way too much self control.

Seriously, my mind will not be still. It wanders all over the place all the time constantly overthinking everything and questioning everything, even the motivations of people that want to be my friends or even help me stay out of the depths of my mental Mordor.

Add to this the fact that I crush every feeling that comes through my mental doors to greet me because I CAN'T DEAL WITH IT ANYMORE! I just want it all nailed down so it's not flying up and hitting me in the face all the time with demands at inconvenient times of the day. This is not new behavior for me. I have been doing it all my life simply to deal with the SSA. I box it all up by categories and file them away in my brain where I won't find the feelings, but apparently the packing tape is getting old because all those thoughts and feelings have been escaping to torture me anew.  

I've spent much time in my life trying to create this Stoic exterior and it is crumbling.

If this continues, I will be a weeping mass of protoplasm, crying every ten minutes over something that I thought I had dealt with years ago.

There is just no middle ground with me. If I am to function in the real world, I need the mental acuity to be self controlled, but not at the expense of my mental or spiritual health. My spiritual side seems to be in a coma right now. Maybe something is trying to wake it up. Is that a good thing? I don't know. It scares me and at the same time I seem to want it.

I need to go fishing now. It will prevent me from thinking further about this.

Education

Most education, even the Christian variety, is propaganda and indoctrination. There are right answers approved by the experts and their are wrong answers, that while correct, may not be acceptable to the general population or the experts and must be supressed. And so, I offer this guide to you, knowing that you will use it in the spirit intended.  

If life is tough for you, refer to the rules above. It should lighten your load considerably.

Angels We Have Heard On High

August was a month of birthdays for three of my friends (the Angels) and so we went out. We decided to go to 801 Chophouse in downtown Des Moines. Angel Two and I went to the bar first to wait for the others. It had the look of a library, complete with ladder to retrieve the bottles of the most expensive liquors from the upper shelves. After the other Angels arrived, we were seated in a booth that had birthday confetti strewn on the table top. Each of the Angels received a menu that had 'Happy Birthday' emblazoned on the opening page.

It is a classic, old style restaurant where the dining is as much an experience as a meal.  For the two hour + duration, we had one waitress named Joanie and she was superb. There was nothing on the menu that she could not explain and it was fairly complex. She was also very charming and she seemed to love her job.

The menu was a meat lovers dream and after much reflection, I think I want to go back, maybe on a Sunday night to try the Sunday supper. It is pricey, but my steak was done perfectly and the experience with my friends was wonderful.

I started with a cup of the lobster bisque. It was excellent, with nice chunks of lobster and a very creamy. It had just enough cayenne to give it some spark. The others had Caesar salad. We shared appetizers of  'Down Home' sauteed shrimp and baked escargot on toast. In retrospect, we probably should have gotten two servings of the shrimp. They were delightful and delightfully huge, but there were only four on the plate. Again, there was a hint of cayenne in the saute mixture with the butter and garlic, none of which overpowered the shear shirmpyness of the shrimp. The baked escargot was served on a metal tray with divots, each containing one escargot in garlic butter and covered with an unidentified cheese that was toasted to a golden brown. They were served with a sour dough toast. Mmmm.

For dinner I had the 16 oz New York Strip with bone marrow butter, some steamed broccoli, grilled asparagus in hollandaise and lobster mashed potatoes. Angel One had fillet Mignon medallions with a mushroom sauce, Angel Two had the rib eye and garlic mashed potatoes. And Angel Three had the prime rib. We all shared the sides of broccoli and asparagus and potatoes.

All the portions were huge and bags were provided to take home leftovers. I had none. The Angels will be enjoying there meal again this week.

Here are some pics from the night.

Again, Happy Birthday to all three of you Angels. Thank You for watching over me. I love you.

Yellow Jackets

You see this little bastard? Him and about 5 of his buddies stung me up real good (9 times) on Wednesday. I still have welts and itching. Hot baths with baking soda and aloe vera gel help, but I have also been advised to take an antihistamine and I may go get some before dinner tonight. Here is an example of what they do to you.

I have one just like that on my back. I have two welts on the underside of my right upper arm, three on the underside of my left, two on my left elbow and one on the inside of my left leg that came awfully close to little Jeffery and the twins if you know what I mean.

They apparently build their nests in the ground. I was pulling weeds in a raised garden plot when I discovered their presence via the sting to the back. And yes, they went right through some fairly heavy clothing. I was not standing still after the first sting. I ran, but to know avail.

The sting is like being stuck with a pin that you can't pull out. That feeling lasts for some time as the welt forms and reddens. The pin stuck sensation has dissipated now to a severe itch that topical treatment only helps for a short time. It's maddening. The other thing that happened immediately after the event was a severe headache. I suppose it was the effects of all the venom entering my body at one time. The little effers poisoned me.

Anyway, after treating my wounds, I grabbed a can of wasp spray in the garage, returned to the sight of the crime and sprayed down their little waspy asses. They are now in wasp hell I hope. I am also now a proud owner of a yellow jacket trap. I would like to send more of them to their eternal, infernal reward.

Done whining now. Back to work.

I Dreamed A Dream

I don't remember much of it, at least not the details, but the images were vivid. I have NEVER dreamed about my Dad before. Not once in my entire life. But last night he was in my head as I slept and I don't know why. He had come back to the house. He was dirty. His face had what appeared to be mud on one side. His clothes were torn. I remember looking at him in the dream and telling him that he was supposed to be dead as I hugged him. I remember thinking, 'how will I explain this to everyone?'.

And the rest of the dream was spent with me trying to avoid him as he cleaned up, put on clean clothes and prepared to leave again. I have no idea where he had been or where he was going, but it was like he had been to hell and back and was now preparing for a new destination.

I do not know that this means anything. I did have a hot sausage sandwich last night, which may have prompted the dreaming. Whatever caused the 'Dad' dream, it stuck in my head until this morning. I might also add that I felt very rested and refreshed when I woke.

Maybe he is finally gone, at least in my mind. I feel as though a great weight has been lifted from me.  

I Have A Complaint

I know, right? Unbelievable. But seriously, while it is not Festivus time yet, I need an early Airing of the Grievances. It's just one thing. It has nagged me for decades. It's something that I get from various members on my father's side of the family. I will say it once to all of you.

I have no brothers and sisters. I am an only child. And please do not refer to me by my Uncle's name.

My grandparents did it when they were alive. As a rule, they would correct themselves, but it happened frequently. My father did it when he was alive. Not sure why. Was he maybe in denial that I was his son? Not sure. I have even heard my Uncle refer to my dad as my brother. And now, just yesterday, I get a thank you card for a graduation gift from a second cousin in Missouri. She addresses me as 'Uncle Jeff'.

For years it has been more like I was the third son of my grandparents. Perhaps it's because I spent so much time with them when I was young, but they all seem to have some confusion about who I really am in the family. Now, I suppose there could be something I don't know about the family history, but I think it's a very unusual phenomenon. There was even some confusion at Christmas among my second cousins about how exactly I was related to them. One of the brighter ones explained to the others that I was their second cousin once removed. I'm not sure that even I understand that, but as long as they know I am not their uncle, I am good with it.

Thanks...I feel better now.

Church Parking Lot Road Rage

OK...just one more...this guy is hilarious...it's a short one. Go for it.

The Millennial Missionaries

Ya, this is what it's coming to right? This is very funny and also close to the mark and kind of scary.

HOW IT'S MADE: Christian Music

I'm sure you've always wondered. Now you know.

Odd Jeff Stuff

All right. I'm having some odd behaviors that might be worth discussion. Perhaps they are not odd, given my current life situation. That remains to be seen I suppose. I am in the place now where I really hate to go home at night. By that, I mean I do not like to be in my Mom and Dad's house. The place creeps me out. It's full of their stuff and rearranging the furniture just ain't cuttin' it.

I get up in the morning and I cannot get out of the house fast enough. I want to go somewhere and be where people are. I do not necessarily want to interact with them, but I want to be where they are and not alone in this house where my parents spent their final days. It is not my home. I could tear the house down and build my own place and their ghosts would still be here, nagging me to mow the lawn or weed the flower beds.

I do not want to live that way. I cannot believe it has taken me this long to figure it out. How did I ever think I wanted to live the way they did? I have never been big on owning property. I always thought it was kind of foolish, despite advice that it was a good investment. Being a slave to the upkeep of a place like this is more than I can handle.  I suppose I could hire it done and the thought of having a 28 year old out working in the yard without his shirt has it's appeal, but seriously, I would have to be delusional to think that would make it all worth the cost of property taxes,.

I have this urge to run away from all this; to hit the road and not come back until I figure out what's next. There are things to see after all and most all of it is outside of Iowa. I love Iowa, but even mild winters here are awful in my opinion. I guess it's good I do not live in Minnesota or North Dakota.

I also told someone on a website I frequent to "suck it up buttercup" when life's tensions start to get you down. The posting was about whether it was OK for men to cry. It was my thought that there was a time and a place for it, but that we shouldn't be crying because we were stressed out by life. I mean life is stressful right? Having a crying jag every time it gets tough will not fix things. Knowing when to cry separates the little boys from the men...in my opinion.

I guess it all means that I am just getting old. I have lived through some tough and stressful times and tears did not help me. We have to gird our loins and get down to the business of living. Emotionality and focus on self prevents that. Am I right? No? Suck it up buttercup :^)

So anyway, I am not welcome there anymore. I have to say that I have just about had it with the special snowflakes of this world that get offended at the drop of a hat. I will not walk on egg shells out of fear that I might make someone feel bad. People make me feel bad frequently. I just deal with it. I'm not sure why everyone else cannot do the same. It's called tolerance, but apparently that's a one way street.

My spiritual issues are still not cleared up. I'm sure it's my fault. Most everything else is.

I also find I am trusting people less and that ain't good given the fact that I did not trust them all that much anyway.

I am in a place where I want to be with people, but I do not want to talk to them or interact with them. I just want to observe them. This may be tied into my personality type or it may be part of some mental disease that I have not yet found a name for.

My personality type, according to the Meyers-Briggs test is INTJ. There is another test call the Enneagram. I do not know a great deal about it other than there are 9 personality types and I am a Type One .  Apparently us Type One's are close to nuts. Here's the breakdown.

Type One—Levels of Development

Healthy Levels

Level 1 (At Their Best): Become extraordinarily wise and discerning. By accepting what is, they become transcendentally realistic, knowing the best action to take in each moment. Humane, inspiring, and hopeful: the truth will be heard.

Level 2: Conscientious with strong personal convictions: they have an intense sense of right and wrong, personal religious and moral values. Wish to be rational, reasonable, self-disciplined, mature, moderate in all things.

Level 3: Extremely principled, always want to be fair, objective, and ethical: truth and justice primary values. Sense of responsibility, personal integrity, and of having a higher purpose often make them teachers and witnesses to the truth.

Average Levels

Level 4: Dissatisfied with reality, they become high-minded idealists, feeling that it is up to them to improve everything: crusaders, advocates, critics. Into "causes" and explaining to others how things "ought" to be.

Level 5: Afraid of making a mistake: everything must be consistent with their ideals. Become orderly and well-organized, but impersonal, puritanical, emotionally constricted, rigidly keeping their feelings and impulses in check. Often workaholics—"anal-compulsive," punctual, pedantic, and fastidious.

Level 6: Highly critical both of self and others: picky, judgmental, perfectionist. Very opinionated about everything: correcting people and badgering them to "do the right thing"—as they see it. Impatient, never satisfied with anything unless it is done according to their prescriptions. Moralizing, scolding, abrasive, and indignantly angry.

Unhealthy Levels

Level 7: Can be highly dogmatic, self-righteous, intolerant, and inflexible. Begin dealing in absolutes: they alone know "The Truth." Everyone else is wrong: very severe in judgments, while rationalizing own actions.

Level 8: Become obsessive about imperfection and the wrongdoing of others, although they may fall into contradictory actions, hypocritically doing  the opposite of what they preach.

Level 9: Become condemnatory toward others, punitive and cruel to rid themselves of wrongdoers. Severe depressions, nervous breakdowns, and suicide attempts are likely. Generally corresponds to the Obsessive-Compulsive and Depressive personality disorders.

I am all over the board here in both healthy and unhealthy development. I will not go into detail, but this list of crap almost depresses me. I am not a 21st century man and seriously bent.

I am going to have to hit the road this winter or I may come unraveled.

Maybe I will feel better tomorrow...or maybe I just need a good cry...or, more likely, the frustration will continue. Suck it up buttercup.

Maybe I should just go to the Iowa State Fair again tomorrow and forget all this, That's probably the answer. How could I be so stupid? (Don't answer or you;re dead meat.)

I Think I'm Becoming a Redneck

I have all the telltale signs; a ball cap with a fish hook clipped to the bill, sunburned neck and face, scarred up hands from being gouged by fish and hooks, an increasing ability to catch catfish regardless of my intentions and an overwhelming need to shoot rodents that invade my property.

Yesterday I was soaking in the bath tub after a long day of river fishing. I looked out the bathroom window and off the east deck in the timber sat a groundhog munching on some clover. He was sitting up like they do on his hind legs and seemed to be looking right at me. It was like he was checking out the deck and thinking he could hibernate underneath it come winter. Strange how I intuit a ground hog's thoughts. Perhaps another sign of my redneck status.

I immediately rose from the tub, wrapped a towel around myself, grabbed the .22 rifle, walked onto the deck and shot him. Later, I moved his carcass into the timber. Oddly, the evidence of my rodenticide disappeared in the night. I've noticed the same thing with the felonious squirrels I have terminated. There is something in the woods that does vermin carcass cleanup for me. Not sure what it is. I would think that a groundhog corpse would be too big for a fox or a cat to move effectively. Maybe a dog could do it or worse, a coyote. They have been reported in the neighborhood. Next time I deposit a rodent cadaver, I will have to stay up and watch to see what happens. As a redneck, I would really like to shoot a coyote. I need to think about that one though. I mean, who will clean up my carnage if I kill the cleaner? These things have to be considered.

Anyhow, as I mentioned earlier, I also seem to be catching an inordinate amount of catfish this year. This is odd, considering that I am fishing for bass and walleye. It may have something to do with the time of year or the drought, but the catfish strike at any shiny object I throw into the water, It could be that their natural foods (shad, minnows, fish fry) are in short supply. Whatever.

Generally when one considers catfishing, one thinks of using live baits or stink baits or even chicken livers. I have proven all these methods unnecessary. In my efforts to catch smallmouth, wiper and walleye, I have been using spinners and a variety of silver spoons. My technique for stream and river fishing is to find a place where the current is fairly swift. I cast the lure upstream and allow it to move downstream with the current, reeling in the lure just fast enough to keep the it off the bottom. The fish will strike as the lure moves downstream.

It's a method that works well and I did catch some walleye and smallmouth, but the biggest fish I caught in the past two weeks have been catfish. I have probably caught 10 maybe? Two were of very nice size, one weighing 7 Lb, 10 oz and the other 9 Lb, 1 oz. When they hit the lure, it nearly jerks the rod out of my hand. The ensuing fight is why I go fishing. It's just fun. I have been enjoying the catfish.

The most productive lure in this regard has proven to be the Mepps Comet #4. It's a spinner with a silver blade, some beads and a rubber minnow with two treble hooks. Make sure you have pliers on hand to remove this sticky lure from the catfish mouth.

I've been throwing the catfish back in the river. If there is an Asian about (and it seems like there always is), I will give them the fish. They seem to eat anything that swims including carp.

I'm not sure what a red neck does in the winter. I may have to take up hunting - or - maybe there will be enough rodentia to keep me occupied without leaving home. We will see

A Legacy of Faith

Evangelicals like to practice what many call Legacy Faith. It's their purposeful intention to raise their children in Christian homes centered around faith in Jesus Christ as Lord and Savior, passing a legacy of faith to the next generation. The idea is to keep the kids in the church and in the faith into adulthood where the cycle will begin again with their children. It's some very purposeful parenting. Sometimes it will involve home schooling or attending a Christian school to ensure the children are not polluted by the world at an early age. Christian morality is instilled in the young ones in the hope that they will continue in the faith until they are old.

There is absolutely nothing wrong with this. Some of the most spiritually and emotionally healthy people I know were raised this way and have grown into successful adults. These same people have also successfully transitioned from their parent's faith to creating their own personal faith in Jesus.
And this is where the whole legacy thing can fall to the ground if it's not done with that intention.

At some point, Christians must come to terms with their own faith. They cannot live off the traditions they grew up with forever. Every human life is unique with it's own challenges in my opinion and that tends to effect how we believers approach God, especially as we transition into adulthood. Things can get twitchy between the ages of 18 and 25. The reality and usefulness of our faith gets tested most at that time. It is in those moments of testing that one develops their own faith and it may be different from what they were taught.

I grew up in a legacy of faith going back at least 3 generations and probably more if I knew more about my ancestors. My legacy had a bit of a legalistic bent. There was no unconditional love in my day. Grace was not taught much. Eternal destinations were determined by behavior. God's forgiveness was limited and some things just could not be fixed.

I spent my early adult years believing that I was damned by things I did not control. It was quite distressing and I eventually spent more than 16 years without a church. Through all that, I still believed the basics. I just did not celebrate it with other Christians. Then something happened in the late 1990's that changed my outlook. I discovered the unconditionality of Christ's love. I learned about His grace and forgiveness and I slowly re-entered the church world. I became an adult teacher at the church I attended, the same one I grew up in. Much had changed there during my absence and I had also changed and began searching for purpose and spiritual relevance.

Today I am almost 60 years old. I'm still teaching and practicing my faith, but since retirement I have begun to question some things again. I have written about this recently in previous posts and I think it might be my last faith hurdle before death. That remains to be seen. Whatever the case, I think part of this springs from the fact that what faith I now have, is all my own to practice. My parents are both dead. I'm an orphan.

I used to be concerned about what they would think about my life choices and how they would react if they knew I felt the Christian liberty to do things that they thought were of questionable morality.

I no longer have that in my life. I no longer have to be good so that Mommy and Daddy will continue to love me. I have to be good and obedient because I love God and I want to serve Him.

Right now, I have to confess that I'm not feeling His presence. I have trouble praying about anything, but the most rudimentary prayers of thanksgiving. I find myself wondering if prayer really works for anything else. I do not sense His Holy Spirit in me or my life. I should be a changed man, but I find I still struggle with the same issues I have always struggled with. And when does that end? Do I have to die to enjoy a moment without temptation?

I need to leave a legacy of faith when I leave this world and I would like to feel, to know His presence before I get to the end of the road. I want some victory in the here and now and not just some pie in the sky hope for a better life after death. Does that happen?

A man at church recently passed away. He had a life history of drunkenness, drugs, violence and jail time. When he came to Jesus, all of that changed for him. He knew the changing power of the faith in a way that I have yet to experience. He was enabled to just let go of it all and live in faith.

I covet his experience. I want these last things (mostly my SSA) gone from my life before I die. Why is that not happening? Is it so much a part of me that only death will kill it? I hate living this way and I always have. To be obedient, I have to go through life without a partner because I can't make it work like straight folks.

Why does God not change this for me? Where's my new life? Is this my cross? I could use some "Comforter" type action here. Just saying.

My legacy is facing some real danger here.