MELANCHOLY

150 – Saturday, May 30, 2009
A third-degree melancholy has been committed! I generally do not allow such a thief to creep into my life, however, as I watched the sun edge upward above the neighbor’s house and mutate the sky from its grayish-yellow haze into a brighter yellow-gold shaft pouring through the window of my den, I spent a quarter-hour in this developing light as it cast shadows on my heart. The world is so cruel – to my son and his wife and their son as they all struggle to nurture each other into relationship – to my very good friends and neighbors as they struggle with maladies that drain them of physical strength and alter their pathways to a comfortable existence – to Cynthia and me as we struggle to overcome our own barriers that retard our ability to give aid when we really desire that – it’s just plain abrasive! It grinds away at the surface of our lives, wearing away what minuscule resistance that we have to fend off its antagonizing invasion. The forecast is for more of the same – our surrounding resident struggles have set in for the long haul – but wait! My fifteen minutes of downheartedness is attacked by the same maize-colored ray of hope that has now engulfed my room in a brilliant golden opulence and my heart is comforted with the reminder in my spirit that God is everywhere – it is His sun that beamed into my room this morning driving out all darkness and illuminating me with renewed hope, for His Word has come alive - that everything will be assayed in the crucible of living life and, once tested, the things of great value shall emerge as pure gold! What better visualization that today’s sunrise! The melancholy has been arrested – instead, it’s time to get busy about the day with the newer perspective of hope and trust and a readiness for the next round of testing – how else shall we demonstrate the priceless value that God has purposed to inhabit us?
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WOOD

149 - Friday, May 29, 2009
There is nothing that compares with wood! A natural product of a stately tree that has offered cool, soothing shade to an overheated passer-by, wood can be cut, shaped, planed and sanded to a smooth surface – formed into just about anything your mind can conceive. There is an aromatic high that I experience when the saw is turned on and I prepare to create a one-of-a-kind treasure that can fall anywhere on the spectrum between decoratively ornate to simply utilitarian. The medium can be left in its organic originality or beautifully finished to a lasting luster, preserving it against normal degradation. For hundreds of years mankind has fashioned his surroundings from this incredible cellulose gift from God and made his world a better place in which to live. Woodworking is therapy to my soul – if you were not already aware – I love wood! A visit to my home will prove it!
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OLD MOVIES

148 – Thursday, May 28, 2009
While browsing through the cable channels searching for something to watch, my sister-in-law announced, “You guys are missing it – an RKO black-and-white like you always enjoy – a musical!” Otherwise occupied, it took me several minutes to get to the recliner and tune in. When I was finally able engage channel fifty-three, I was not disappointed and she was correct. The 1937 vintage film, ‘A Damsel In Distress’, was airing starring Fred Astaire in his best genre, a song and dance celluloid plethora of gliding and whirling, fantastic, even though it appeared sans color – I bellied up to the entertainment buffet and glutted. The thought occurred to me that our modern film-making studios and production companies, with all the technologies and marvels of science at their fingertips, don’t even come close to the intrinsic quality of family-friendly, eye-and-ear-pleasing melodies, sprawling stages filled with props, plumage, and professionalism once the mainline offerings from Hollywood – it is not because there is no talent available, for there are still gifted singers to vocalize (just watch American Idol, et al) and exceptional dancers to trip-the-light-fantastic (observe Dancing With The Stars, et al) – it is because our fickle population is no longer interested in ‘G-rated’ talent and splendidly arrayed opulent staging; they want blood-and-guts, dicey dialogue with a deluge of profanity and sexual innuendo and exposed skin, splashy computer-generated graphic explosions and destructive displays of pyrotechnical resplendence – what a shame that there no longer exists a consumer market for quality – our ‘modern’ society has become a flesh-hungry degraded mass – Hollywood would still create the really good stuff if we were just in the market for it – too sad!!
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SAFETY RAMPS

147 – Wednesday, May 27, 2009
Tomorrow is the ‘big day’ when Bill and I will travel to Aunt Mary’s to install the three access ramps to make her invalidity less restrictive when travel is necessary. I was struck with the idea and concept for the sloping fillers on an earlier visit shortly after she had sustained a fall, related in part to the sidewalk and steps as obstacles to be overcome. I decided I wanted the construction and installation of the aids to be my blessing to her. The small plywood inclines will fill the risers on the sidewalk outside the condo and make wheel-chair maneuvering a simple straight-up-and-in through the doorway – a much safer and more controllable means of assistance for Uncle Bud. Finished and sealed to resist the weather and coated with sandy, abrasive materials to make them totally slip-proof, they will make ingress and egress transition as-smooth-as-glass. I trust they will minister to her needs and that Uncle Bud will be blessed as well.
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NATALIE NAVIGATOR

146 – Tuesday, May 26, 2009
Today, I had a job interview scheduled for 10:30 AM. I left right on time, but since I was headed to an area of Tampa which was less familiar than normal, I plugged the information into my dashboard GPS navigational system, known for taking me right to the doorstep of any location I program in – Cynthia and I have dubbed the unit, ‘Natalie Navigator’, and she has remained incredibly faithful – until today, when she decided to be slightly dyslexic. I say that, for after starting me out on a familiar path, I was soon deposited onto a toll section of road for a mere mile-and-a-half then instructed, in a voice too seductive for me to resist in any way, to exit at the next ramp, which I did. To my chagrin, there were only two gates for me to use, one, the Florida SunPass lane (a sensor-driven system that automatically deducts the requisite fees from your pre-paid account) and the second, a ‘deposit exact coins only’ lane. Unfortunately, I had neither – uh oh! The Florida DOT also is renowned for having those pesky little Kodak moments available on a digital format – am I doomed? Prominently displayed at the roadside was an aluminum rectangle bearing some sort of inscription in blue lettering, something about a $100 penalty or something-or-other for failure to pay blah, blah, whatever! I guess I could have put the car in reverse and backed up onto the toll road again, but that, too, is breaking the law - and a whole lot more perilous. The moment I arrived home, I sought the DOT website and sent an immediate email to the comptroller offering to tape two quarters to a card to remit the fifty cents I owe to the state if she would just let me know the where and how. I pleaded my case immediately in hopes that my ‘best of intentions’ might offer me some sort of amnesty – what do you think? Please send in your votes endorsing my acquittal, in the event that I am arrested, so I can use the results of the poll to make my case based on a preponderance of public opinion. A thought just occurred to me – I need to convince DOT to install debit machines in the booths that they choose to leave unmanned – I could have paid my four-bits if they would have had it today! Am I a genius or what? (Be careful – the answer to that question is NOT to be included in the survey!!)
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MEMORIAL DAY

145 - Monday, May 25, 2009
Of all the National Holidays observed by our country, it is my most sincere hope that you honor this day above all others, not just as an occasion to enjoy another day off from work, but genuinely to memorialize all of the fallen soldiers who offered their utmost for our freedoms. Since 1868, the first date officially declared as Memorial Day, and even before, the highest ideal that catapulted these United States to the premier echelon of universal envy is that freedom – freedom from tyranny – freedom to declare our personal beliefs even when they are in diametric opposition to our national popular opinion or posture, and to do so without fear of recrimination. Statements are regularly made publicly that infuriate my ethical soul and cause me to feel I am a focus of patriotic abuse, however, I defend those who thrash my pride in America and embarrass me before the remainder of mankind in full measure – they can do that because they are free to do that – and, personally, I would have it no other way. We Americans are misunderstood and maligned because we allow the common man to speak his piece, no matter how debasingly it may rail against our collective character – the price, paid in full by fallen heroes – my heroes. At three o’clock p.m. I paused for a full minute to revere the preservers of freedom, not just mine, but also yours - I hope you did the same. If you did, then, like me, you are persistently in awe of all combatants who have ever met their demise in the ultimate sacrifice for the both of us. If you did not, please do it now. The timing is not nearly so crucial as is the act – if, however, you disdain the notion and choose, defiantly and on purpose, to do nothing, I hope that you will forever carry the indelible memory of the fact that the freedom you invoke to reject this memorial was bought and paid for without obligation from you by the blood and life forces of your anonymous donors.
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PROFESSIONAL KNOWLEDGE

144 - Sunday, May 24, 2009
My neighbor is a really great guy. He loans me his lawn equipment since, in our austerity efforts during unemployment, we have cancelled our lawn services and I am opting to do the work myself. He could be an even better neighbor if he would just slip across the street when he is cutting his own and be my ‘lawnscaping fairy’, but that might be more neighborly than he feels like being, especially given the sweltering humid heat of the recent afternoons. Since this generosity began, however, his gas edger has been ailing, barely able to sustain running roughly and totally devoid of any power whatsoever. Knowing something of lawn equipment, I have taken it completely apart on three occasions without discovery of what was wrong - but this weekend, I had Bill over to aid in different project when mention was made of this equipment malfunction. Having been on the grounds staff at a local high school, some of his main duties included small engine service work and he volunteered to take a look at the edger and I was not about to discourage his exuberance. Once we had the unit dismantled, the scrutiny of inspection revealed a tiny separation in the fabric of the membrane in the carburetor gasket known as the ‘diaphragm’ which draws a steady flow of gasoline into the firing chamber. The gap was so small that I was not able to see it in my first attempts at service, mainly because my eyesight is not the same acuity as it was in my youth when I could see-the-whiskers-on-a-gnat-at-a-hundred-yards. I also was clueless as to what to look for as well. Once repairs had been affected and reassembly complete, the little edger sprang to new life and ran like a champion. Now, the thought that occurred to me is this – when you are blessed with the opportunity to avail yourself to the knowledge of a professional, you should exploit that occasion to the fullest – at least that is what I did – especially when they are not ‘charging’ you for their expertise!
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FORTUNE COOKIE

143 - Saturday, May 23, 2009
Oriental is among my two favorite food groups – hot and cold. Depending upon how well you know me, eating is about the only vice that has dogged me throughout most of my life, and I have always enjoyed egg rolls, craved chow mein, loved lo mein, savored sweet and sour, gobbled general tso’s chicken and well, you get the common picture here, do you not? The delight at the end of every bountiful buffet is when the server delivers the check accompanied by those crunchy little morsels called ‘Fortune Cookies’, wrapping themselves around a tag of written philosophy meant to enrich our dining pleasure. In a recent ‘dessert delight’, my Cynthia read, “Pray for what you want, but work for what you need”. The thought just occurred to me that this is a quality recipe for all of us to pursue, for life without work is worthless and precluding prayer is presumptuous.
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BRILLIANT PHILOSOPHERS?

142 – Friday, May 22, 2009
I have constructed a series of ramps to assist Uncle Bud when it is necessary to navigate Aunt Mary down the steps of their condo. I observed three concrete risers between their entry and the parking area when I visited their home for the first time to take some food and share fellowship - Mary was recovering from a fall she sustained in the exact area during a recent excursion. When Cynthia informed her of my plan to build her an access ramp, Mary related that the real problem for any permanent incline is that it would have to be approved monthly by the condominium association. So I devised a plan to assemble three individual ramps, each one small enough that Uncle Bud could easily pick them up after each use and store them in his nearby garage, only putting them in place when he needed to take Mary somewhere. Since they would be removable, there was no need for them to be made of heavier and more costly weather-resistant materials. Upon delivery of the first two ramps, (mainly to see how well they worked and to more accurately measure for the third and most difficult fit of the three) I determined that Bud was not likely to remove them in between uses, therefore we would need to encase the risers in some type of non-slick finish in order to retard their deterioration and maintain the safety of both my elderly friends. This has proven to be another of those times when my planning has succumbed to Murphy’s Law and Larrison’s Corollary (see blog #128) and validated grandfather Virgil’s Axiom, “If one has not the time to do anything correctly initially, how will one find the resources to do it over again?” (Actually, since my grandfather was a more, shall we say, ‘terse’ man, I have paraphrased his statement into more publishable and less raw language.) The thought just occurred to me that I am a genetic descendant, either of brilliant philosophers, or of a couple of gentlemen having gleaned a great deal of sagacious insight into life through the school-of-hard-knocks – I will let you decide which.
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