And Now a Word, from Shawn...

One of the things I have been working on is audio recordings of several of my lessons from church. Right now I am about 3 lessons into a study of First Corinthians, and should be able to post the audio from upcoming lessons.




Right now, I'm still "experimenting" with it, and so here is a previous lesson from a study in Galatians. Powerpoints for many of my lessons are posted on the Addendum to The Last Page. It is my aim one day to start placing these into a feed, that those willing (i.e. the terminally bored and mentally unbalanced) to subscribe to can have them downloaded to their portable music players automatically. But I'm not there ...yet.

And now a word from our Sponsors

Ok so maybe its not exactly a post, but I thought I would give you a little humor, given the last "edu-rant." We are in the throes of TAKS season, and I'm looking for anything to take my mind of that test...

You Get what you pay for

An old adage that rings true today for almost anything is “You get what you pay for.” This is so true when it comes to public education in the State of Texas. Texas has some of the highest scores in achievement, yet the lowest pay for teachers in the country. We educate children in our public schools with one of the lowest per capita student spending. However, if you listen to the nay-sayers out there all you will ever hear is how bad the system is, and how any raise in pay should be through incentives based on performance (nevermind the number of teachers who could qualify for food stamps and EIC currently teaching in public schools.) However, it is not teacher pay I wish to address today. That is selfish and self serving. Rather, I want to talk about educational funding for the system itself, and the fact that schools across the state need more funding in order to continue achieving better results. The Texas Education Agency has continually addressed this issue with the governor and the state legislature during this session. Unfortunately this is not what governor Rick Perry has in mind. He has already requests funds to be cut across the board in all state agencies to the point where the funding of education in the state would reach an unconstitutional low. And now his stunt with the Lottery this week.

This from an email sent by the Texas Federation of Teachers

“Gov. Rick Perry's proposal yesterday to sell off the state lottery to a private operator met with a cool reception at the state capitol, as lawmakers figured out the plan would cut funding for education.

Texans voted some years back to require that all proceeds from the lottery must go to public education. Right now public schools receive about $1.1 billion a year from the lottery (about 3 percent of the education budget).

Perry yesterday said schools still would receive money from a trust fund he would create with a portion of the proceeds of the lottery sale. (He wants to use the rest for other priorities.) But Lt. Gov. David Dewhurst and others have pointed out that the substitute school revenue would not come close to equaling current lottery income. At best, it seems Perry's plan would leave the already-inadequate state education budget with a new $500 million hole to fill for the biennium; at worst, the shortfall caused by his plan to privatize the lottery could exceed $1 billion.”

This is your government in action. This is the stuff teachers put up with everyday from our elected leadership. The tax relief given to homeowners across the state will be at the expense of education. By the way, if you check, the “thousands” of dollars of tax relief, probably ended up around “60” dollars for the average Texan (so go fill up your truck’s gas tank on the governor). The funds used to offset this were surplus and temporary, and the spending plan designed only to provide funds for Texas schools for one (maybe two) years before it will no longer provide even minimum funding to schools. The state and federal government has yet to fully fund all the mandated programs, rules and administrative burdens they place on public schools. Meanwhile the Tax laws passed will prevent future tax increases, since an uninformed populace will not vote for tax increases for the public schools in their area on the scale necessary to provide adequate funding.

Folks…. You will get what you pay for. The State will get what it pays for out of Public Education.

The Joy of Reading

As we approach the afternoon/evening where we all sit down to watch commercials, and they put this annoying football game between them, one thought becomes crystallized in my mind -- the joy of a mute button on the remote and a book by my easy chair. "Blink," the next book in the que (after "7 Deadly Wonders") I can thank Scott for. I got it in the mail last week, and I must say it is in top condition. Not a mark on it. Scott - you can give the guy off amazon great feedback if you like; moreover, thank you so much for the book.

Back to the topic, the commercials we will gladly watch and enjoy during the Superbowl, maybe even talk about on Monday, represent the 1% of TV ads that are truly creative (btw many of which are made by real people this year, not marketing majors). However the new will wear off these by the 5-millionth time they grace the screen. And then there are the 99% that are truly a waste of time, and border on mind-numbing and/or some Hitchcock form of mind-control/torture.

So in honor of the upcoming commercials probably worth watching, here are those that always help me to hit the mute button and read a couple more pages in my latest book.

1. Head-On. - "nuff said. I would like to "apply" something to the someone's forehead who came up with these.

2. Male Enhancement - the only reason that guy is smiling is because he's rich off all the idiots who bought that snake oil.

3. E.D. - I used to remember when this was just short for "education." I guess it still has has some value since these commercials are "educating my children" about the perceived medical and social imperatives of "great sex". If civilization ends, and the archaeologists of the future dig this stuff up, they are going to think that something must have happened to all the male humans and that's why we died out.

4. 6-9-5-1-1-8-1. This is a local commercial for one of those dish installers. Some wanna-be barbershop quartet sings the phone number( number by number). Now I have a 4 year old that can sing it... and sing it... and sing it.... (thanks guys.)

5. Are you ____________, then you deserve compensation. If you laid all of the lawyers in the world, end to end, on the equator ---- It would be a good idea to just leave them there.

Note: on item #3, I put a disclaimer: No pharmacists (those dispensing the "educational" drugs) were intentionally maligned during the making of this blog (especially those nice people who buy me reading material...)

Financial Peace?

Nothing is more admirable than the fortitude with which millionaires tolerate the disadvantages of their wealth.

Rex Stout

US mystery novelist & publisher (1886 - 1975)

Brandy and I have started a program that, so far, seems to be very good toward more effectively managing our money. It's the "Financial Peace University" from Dave Ramsey. We have a class that meets once a week with about a 7 other couples who are all working through the program. The program pushes for debt-free living, and financial accountability. You might want to check it out. You could also check out his book, which Brandy and I read over a recent snowy day. He has a scriptural response to managing your money, and its not a "wealth and prosperity" gospel but a common sense approach to your money.

Daily Bible Reading - Tomb of the Patriarchs

"So Ephron's field in Machpelah near Mamre—both the field and the cave in it, and all the trees within the borders of the field—was deeded to Abraham as his property in the presence of all the Hittites who had come to the gate of the city. Afterward Abraham buried his wife Sarah in the cave in the field of Machpelah near Mamre (which is at Hebron) in the land of Canaan. So the field and the cave in it were deeded to Abraham by the Hittites as a burial site."

Genesis 23:17-20

The congregation meeting in Haskell has decided to read through the Bible in one year, using the Daily Bible, a chronological bible. This will be Brandy's second time completely through God's word, and it would be my second time if I had done a better job of staying up with my reading the last time.

So today, we buried Sarah. Actually we didn't, Abraham did.

With my penchant for history, I did some research on the location where Sarah was buried, now known as the Tomb (or Cave) of the Patriarchs (Abraham and Sarah, Issac and Rebekka, and Jacob and Leah are supposedly lain to rest in caves below the structure). Come to find out, the area has been a hotly disputed "Holy location" for both Jews and Muslims. Abraham had buried Sarah there only for latter generations to move away into Egypt. The land would then be given back to the Israelites through conquest, only for their immorality to place them in bondage. Herod the Great had built walls around the location. The Muslims seized the location within a decade of their religion's upstart in Mecca. It was even a Catholic church at one time during the crusades.

I guess what struck me the most, was how the conflict that has the world in a turmoil today, is the same turmoil that has driven the world for thousands of years. People who believe in God, whether they call him Jehovah or Allah, who fight over a location of bones that remain in a tomb. They fight for their traditions. Each group sees themselves doing what is right in their God's eyes. They are willing to die believing their strife is for God's glory. They will continue to fight until one side or the other relents, and this is why the struggle continues to this day.

But we Christians are above that...right?

Although the most important of tombs for Christians is empty, we fight for our traditions. When we fight we see ourselves doing what is right in God's eyes. We believe our strife will be for God's glory. The only difference is that most of the times we are fighting each other! This too has gone on for ages and is why Paul would remind Christians in Ephesians 4.

1 As a prisoner for the Lord, then, I urge you to live a life worthy of the calling you have received. 2Be completely humble and gentle; be patient, bearing with one another in love. 3 Make every effort to keep the unity of the Spirit through the bond of peace. 4 There is one body and one Spirit—just as you were called to one hope when you were called— 5 one Lord, one faith, one baptism; 6 one God and Father of all, who is over all and through all and in all.

7 But to each one of us grace has been given as Christ apportioned it. 8T his is why it^[a] says:
"When he ascended on high,
he led captives in his train
and gave gifts to men."^[b]

9 (What does "he ascended" mean except that he also descended to the lower, earthly regions^[c]? 10 He who descended is the very one who ascended higher than all the heavens, in order to fill the whole universe.) 11 It was he who gave some to be apostles, some to be prophets, some to be evangelists, and some to be pastors and teachers, 12 to prepare God's people for works of service, so that the body of Christ may be built up 13 until we all reach unity in the faith and in the knowledge of the Son of God and become mature, attaining to the whole measure of the fullness of Christ.

14 Then we will no longer be infants, tossed back and forth by the waves, and blown here and there by every wind of teaching and by the cunning and craftiness of men in their deceitful scheming. 15 Instead, speaking the truth in love, we will in all things grow up into him who is the Head, that is, Christ. 16 From him the whole body, joined and held together by every supporting ligament, grows and builds itself up in love, as each part does its work.

Really to get the full meaning in context, I would suggest reading the entire chapter.

How happy it must make Satan when he looks at people who say they follow God, but hurt one another.

Postcards from Istani

Well, I would like to say its not my fault, since my wife gave me the latest chapter to "Guild Wars." However when you have been on the computer as much as I have been the last couple of days... yet with the lack of a meaningful, insightful, or even remotely humorous post to the blog can only mean one thing -- Shawn's been gaming.

Scott (who happened to get Neverwinter Nights 2 at Loop) would like this game. Some more of you out there as well maybe. Nightfall is the third chapter to the game which came out almost 2 years ago. It is a MMORPG (Massive Multiplayer Online Roleplaying Game), which basically means there are probably over 15,000 players playing it online at any one time. The game is also global, as parts of the game are controlled whether teams from America, Europe, or Korea are winning or losing in the player versus player contests within the game. The scenery spans everything from estuaries, swamps, snow-covered forests, mountains, and deserts. So its like exploring outdoors when you log on.

The avatar above is of the oldest character I play. Currently we are exploring an island chain known as Istani in the game. It's very similar to an African coastal area. I will not bore you with the plot...


The game downloads from the net, or can be purchased from disc although the game updates almost every week. And unlike World of Warcraft, there is no monthly subscription fee to play. You pay for the game up front, and then do not pay anything else to play it. The only time you pay is to add a new world (chapter) to it when the come out with one (and only then if you want to play in the new world, the original continent of Tyria (Chapter One) is still open for people to play in).

Over the river and through the woods...

When the grandmothers of today hear the word ``Chippendales,'' they don't necessary think of chairs.

Joan Kerr

Or rather “up the escarpment and through the dust… to Grandmother's house we went!”

The official start of the Holiday season -- our first Christmas get-together of the season, came and went this weekend with a short trip to Brandy’s Grandparents (Brandy drove), and a long trip back home (I drove). Since the majority of the readers of this “esteemed piece of cyberspace literature” (hah!) were in attendance, my recap of the weekend’s events would be redundant. So instead, I offer…

Top ten things not to get caught doing at Grandmother’s House.

10. Taking a picture without a grandkid (anyone’s grandkid) smiling in your lap.

9. Jumping on cotton modules behind the house (“cityboy” excuses or not!).

8. Listening for the gin to stop running where your nose will as well.

7. Saying “Puuuupieeeee!”

6. Buying back the gift you wanted from Chinese Christmas.

5. Needing to use the front bathroom during a “woman conference.”

4. Using up all the hot water taking a shower Sunday morning.

3. Slipping cherries in food items (fruit salad, ice cream, etc.)

2. Weighing yourself before and after a trip to the desserts in the backroom.

1. Making the trundle beds squeak in the office – with your spouse.

"Date Night"

When they discover the center of the universe, a lot of people will be disappointed to discover they are not it.
- Bernard Bailey

Here it is "Friday Night!." I think we used to call it "date night."

Brandy and I still talk a lot about dates, like the date of open house at the elementary, the date we travel out of town to see family, or the date for Madelyn's next doctors appointment, etc. etc. Somewhere within parenthood the meaning of "having a date" has slipped away, replacing the question of what "we" will do, with what "we all" will do, or "what will we do with ______?" (insert names of children here).

So we don't ask the questions much anymore, and just sit at home unless the date is "planned." This involves much preparation, and I'm beginning to think that there might be a business in planning dates for parents, like a wedding planner plans your wedding. You just call up the person, tell them some shared interests between you and your wife, and they take care of the following:

1. Determining an evening where there is no soccer, basketball, ballet, recital, church, school program, meeting, conference, illness, or national disaster in the children's schedule.
2. Arranging child care.
3. Arranging emergency medical care for children during child care.
4. Arranging counseling and medical care for the child care provider after child care.
5. UPS shipped, clear plastic coveralls designed to allow the parents to leave the house without the tell-tale marks of cracker crumbs, milk, kool-aide, or spit-up stains.
5. Sending text messages to the mom's cell phone every 30-minutes during the date saying "Your kids are fine. You are not a bad mother for leaving them".
6. Making reservations at a quiet, secluded locale whose meals do not come with a toy.
7. Providing a list of adult topics to discuss during the evening (since the parents will be a little out of practice). These should be pre-screened not include any references to stickers, stars, dolls, diapers, formula, etc.
8. A grocery delivery made to the house where the date does not end with buying milk, bread, and diapers at Wal-Mart.
9. An after dinner activity that does not involve clowns (or other costumed things), arcade games, or getting a balloon or sucker.
10. A kiss or hug to end the evening, without hearing "EWWW!!!! Mommy, Daddy... STOP DOING THAT!"

But you know, in all honesty at least we as parents have had our time for "romance." Some people out there are still looking for it. I listen to National Public Radio, and one of the latest books they mentioned on-air was Naughty Lola, a compilation of personal adds from the London Review of Books. Below are some excerpts (story):

Romance is dead. So is my mother. Man, 42, inherited wealth.

You're a brunette, 6', long legs, 25-30, intelligent, articulate and drop-dead gorgeous. I, on the other hand, am 4'10", have the looks of Herve Villechaize and carry an odor of wheat. No returns and no refunds at box no. 3321.

My finger on the pulse of culture, my ear to the ground of philosophy, my hip in the medical waste bin of Glasgow Royal Infirmary. 14% plastic and counting -- geriatric brainiac and compulsive NHS malingering fool (M, 81), looking for richer, older sex-starved woman on the brink of death to exploit and ruin every replacement operation I've had since 1974. Box no. 7648 (quickly, the clock's ticking, and so is this pacemaker).

Your stars for today: A pretty Cancerian, 35, will cook you a lovely meal, caress your hair softly, then squeeze every damn penny from your adulterous bank account before slashing the tires of your Beamer. Let that serve as a warning. Now then, risotto?

Man... makes me glad I'm not single and looking anymore. I'll take watching Brandy change Madelyn's diaper in the middle of the living room floor on a Friday night over that any day....

Come before Winter

For I am already being poured out like a drink offering, and the time has come for my departure. I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith. Now there is in store for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous Judge, will award to me on that day—and not only to me, but also to all who have longed for his appearing.

Do your best to come to me quickly, for Demas, because he loved this world, has deserted me and has gone to Thessalonica. Crescens has gone to Galatia, and Titus to Dalmatia. Only Luke is with me. Get Mark and bring him with you, because he is helpful to me in my ministry. I sent Tychicus to Ephesus. When you come, bring the cloak that I left with Carpus at Troas, and my scrolls, especially the parchments.

Alexander the metalworker did me a great deal of harm. The Lord will repay him for what he has done. You too should be on your guard against him, because he strongly opposed our message.

At my first defense, no one came to my support, but everyone deserted me. May it not be held against them. But the Lord stood at my side and gave me strength, so that through me the message might be fully proclaimed and all the Gentiles might hear it. And I was delivered from the lion's mouth. The Lord will rescue me from every evil attack and will bring me safely to his heavenly kingdom. To him be glory for ever and ever. Amen.

Greet Priscilla and Aquila and the household of Onesiphorus. Erastus stayed in Corinth, and I left Trophimus sick in Miletus. Do your best to get here before winter.

2 Timothy 4:6-21

We got the first good snow of the season this past week (Thursday), reminding us that winter is ushering itself in. And as neighbors moved plants into their homes (to keep them alive), and others moved kids out of the house to play in the snow (probably for the same reason), I began to reflect.

Our preacher gives an annual sermon using this passage. The sermon always comes at the end of the harvest season. We "civilized" folk living in the metropolises scattering the plains of West Texas typically think of the gins (not the drinking type), strippers (not the dancing type), and module builders (not the computer programming type) at harvest, and a final push and flurry of work after patient and prolonged tending of the crops of the fields. Then after the harvest, with the cotton in trailers at the gin yard or bundled into modules at the turnrows, there is an eerie silence across the barren fields where once was verdant life. Golden harvest sunsets pass to the winter's cold flannel gray skies. At the onset of winter, nothing more can a farmer do to get more from his harvest. It's just too late.

Is this not the way it is with our life? Paul knew it -- "winter" was approaching. He understood how short life was because he knew his plight in Rome would end with his death. And as the seasons changed it made him reflect on his "harvest."

So too may we.

I understand something about the "harvest" in our own lives. We each "reap" what we "sow." Without planting and tending no harvest will come. We cannot expect to make a difference in the lives of those around us without acting in love and concern, tending our relationships with time and effort. How sad it would be to stand at our own "winter" seeing the harvest days had passed, and wish that our own "fields had produced more or better crops". So we work to make the most of our time.

Yet, with a calendar full of obligations to my church family and school, monthly deacons meetings full of requests for aid, and a constant schedule of helping young people learn science, I forget the real reasons I do those things to help others, make others lives better, or help them through hard things in their lives. It seems they just become another item to put on the calendar and fulfill. In efforts to treat others with care, we de-humanize them into a scheduled, prioritized list of activities. Then we wonder why we feel like we never do enough for others? Where is the harvest? Have I forgotten the real reason I am doing all this anyway?

The harvest always means gathering. It isn't the process of caring and tending. It's the process of seeing the reward of labor. No one looks for the harvest in the heat of July. They know its coming, but with the tender plants in the ground struggling to grow big and tall under an oppressive landscape, the farmer works busily tending with hope. Will every young shoot grow and produce? No, but if the farmer is patient and purposed, a harvest will come.

We the "instant gratification generation," with our internet speed, drive-thru shopping, and memories made indelible in one hour or less, have forgotten that you don't plant and harvest at the same time. You tend to those around you, whether that be the young tender shoot of our children, those oppressed by the "heat" of this cruel world, or the widowed and elderly, and then expect to see the fruit of your work by the first sunset. We get discouraged and forget that the harvest will come, if we are patient and purposed. Paul, patient and purposed, said it best when he stated above "I have kept the Faith." Even with the disappointments that he faced, and those who turned from him or harmed him, he knew that he had touched the lives of others. There were those he called friends. There were those like Mark, who he had disagreed with, but wanted to make amends. There were so many whom he would never know he so affected deeply by his life.

May we all be able to come to a day in our lives where we might look at the field, as the cold northern wind wisps mare tails across the azure sky. And as we look into the last strains of sunset, realize we had a harvest. We made a difference in the hearts of those around us.

Man vs. Ponytail

I never expected to see the day when girls would get sunburned in the places they do today.

Will Rogers

Brandy just returned from her annual 2-day tax seminar. I am proud to report she still had a house standing when she returned, and all children still breathing no worse for the experience, although future psychiatric exams may prove me wrong. Actually Brandy is a merciful woman (merciful to Madelyn), and only left Megan with me. Since Megan is now in Pre-K she had to stay for school while Madelyn got a chance to see Maw-Maw and Pa-Pa. Although my wife trusts me with many things, she understands I am but a simple man, with a very large forgetfull streak. Before she left she reminded several of her friends to remind me that I had a daughter to pick up from school. I am glad to say I did not get home after school and wonder why the house was so well kept and silent, and just go on my way. No I remembered, with the help of about 5 different reminders, 2 from a fellow teacher down the hall.

We had a great time together, I think. When its daddy-daughter time, we seem to find ways to stay busy. When we got home from school, we decided to go wash the truck, and get cokes from Sonic. She shared my cheesecake bites, but only would eat the brown crust leaving the cheesecake filling for daddy to eat. After I finished the last bite, she came over to ask me, where her other one was, and I had to ask forgiveness for eating the last one not knowing it had her name on it. I guess there are just certain "prerogative" issues daddy is just supposed to understand when it comes to his position and that of "the princess".

Later it was time for a daddy-daughter tradition -- the "Big Sandwich." We go to Subway and split a foot long sub. This time on our way to the store we went around town looking at the Christmas decorations. I have decided that we should move to the coast, for the sake of advancing my daughters innate abilities. She would excel at snorkeling, for she took one breath when she entered the car, and did not inhale again until we made it to get the "Big Sandwich." All I heard was: "Daddylookatthelightsinsn'titprettylookdownthestreetturnherelookhere Ilikethatsantaheisn'tscarryIseetreesdoyouseethemturnhereyoudon'tknowwherewearedo youwhereareallthelightsohwaitIseesomemore..."

The only snag for Megan was when it was time to get her hair combed in the morning before school. Unfortunately my daughter had had two "bad hair days" and has her dad to blame. I take full responsibility. I can climb 14,000 foot peaks, pack for weeks with what's on my back, all the while carrying on insightful discussions on science, philosophy, and religion. But ask me to make a good ponytail... I'm stumped.

I did try. I think I combed poor Megan's hair for ten minutes each morning. Just about the time I thought I had all those little hairs rounded up, some would slip through my grasp. I finally told Megan we would have to go for the "Chicago" look (windy) and let the wisps fall where they may. She would look at me with very understanding eyes, and with the care you find only in a young ones face say to me:

"When is Mommy going to come home?"

The Sunday...before Monday

No man needs a vacation so much as the man who has just had one.
- Elbert Hubbard

Vacation time is what most cosmologists should study in order to determine what exists within a black hole. In a single point where the laws of science break down we find people standing outside in blustery conditions at 4AM to buy a Dora Doll, or traveling to see people who they will grieve for not spending more time but for which they are thankful to only see this one time a year, and eating meals of a large dry bird and a reddish sauce that doesn't flow but rather retains the shape of its original container. These are the true "singularities" of science.

But I am more blessed than most, I have two "singularities"-- like two black holes that spiral around one another, tugging the life force from the universe around them. I have two children, and after spending an entire week with both I realize the importance of the many small blessings in life, namely:

1. Mothers. The unending patience they show to their children (even when they have no patience left) remains a modern marvel of the civilized world.
2. School. Which gives me a livelihood (i.e. reason not be at home with the kids all day), a reason not to keep the kids at home, and a break in the day for #1.
3. Golf. It is cheaper than therapy, and has probably prevented numerous mental breakdowns by fathers.

It is not that I don't love spending time with my children. I love my kids. But that doesn't mean I have to always like them or the insanity they bring to life sometimes. We have had some really "unique" times this week. We put up every last Christmas decoration after the incessant reminders of Megan. Madelyn has learned to call me "da-da," typically after first calling me "ma-ma," "pa-pa," and "bi-ble." And we got a tour of Stamford's Emergency Room and a new teddy bear after what we thought was an ear infection turned out to be a bug eating away at Megan's eardrum. I have a feeling that National Lampoons and Chevy Chase could not have written a better script for some parts of our Thanksgiving vacation.

However, as we get ready to return to school, and life returns to some degree of normalcy, I know that within the first 2-3 hours, I will begin to pine away for Christmas and the 2-weeks I get off for that holiday ("What am I thinking!!!?")

The Only Reason for this page is Peer Pressure

My own business always bores me to death; I prefer other people's.
- Oscar Wilde

I start with this -- a rant.

I don't know who had the idea of starting this blogging stuff. I thought we had gotten away from having to do this, until I started to notice family members begin to do it. We were perfectly content just posting pictures. I was especially content with this since Brandy took over the process. Most of the family was also more content since photos were posted on a much more regular basis.

But no. That isn't enough now. Peer pressure has lead to the invention of another slice at our personal privacy.

We talk about peer pressure when dealing with drugs, alcohol, and other highly addictive, risky behavior. It's not like you see on TV where someone calls you "chicken" for not trying it. It's much more subtle. The looks from your friends, the exclusive conversations about the activity, and the enjoyment people seem to receive from the activity. You break down and try it, and then, realize it's not what you thought it would be like.

So in the spirit of following time consuming, highly addictive behaviors, I give up, and I submit to the peer pressure, the keeping up with the ________ (fill in the blank with a relatives name), and the introduction of sharing family information with the family, and the entire world.

I remember when as a child, hearing the word's of my parents saying, "What's said at home....stays at home." Today what is said at home travels at the speed of light across the globe, or even more remote, the unclaimed big soft chairs at your local Starbuck's. OH well, maybe this thing can be useful. If not, maybe I can just do enough to make everyone feel "connected" to us.

"Connected" ... It used to be good enough just to "stay in touch." "Stay in Touch" -- it carries a connotation of reaching out but being able to withdraw, close enough to reach and be there but far enough away to give the other "space." But not now. We are now "connected" -- to be linked in a constant state. Like your lamp plugged to its power source, we now stay plugged into other people. No wonder we see the proliferation of reality TV, where we can, like voyeurs, live in the lives of others, and for a moment forget about ours. What we don't understand is that others around us are living in our own lives, looking at us to find release. We have all found solace in watching others who help us feel normal, or better. We compare ourselves to those around us, and measure whether we are better off or not. Is this not the root cause of peer pressure to begin with? If not peer pressure, it at its worst was what we once called gossip.

Comparisons are not beneficial. People have gotten so good at comparing themselves to others that we no longer can stomach comparing our actions to a standard. Another reason for "Relativism."

Now before I begin to link this whole blogging fad to moral relativism. I think I'll stop and say, " Thank you so much for coming to my page, and sharing time with me. hugs and kisses, LOL, I'm AFK, BBL, C-Ya, and etc. etc."