Score Matters?

Monday Columbian sports page headline reads, “Score Is All That Matters.”  I call BS.  Since I have a BS degree, I can do this.  In the online version a less dramatic title headlined the article.  I like the print version better; it’s controversial, not just informative.  I think it comes from the journalistic confluence of art and fact.  The sports editor also wrote a commentative article entitled “Chance to Win Not Same As Ability To.”  I agree with these titles… in context.  But that’s important.  Truth spoken and agreed to out of context does more damage to faith and hope than any circumstance. 

Beginning Earl

A couple 40-something guys...

Earl

Yesterday, I began a partnership with a 38-year-old truck.  My daughter says he is an Earl.  It’s nearly as old as me.  My friend Brant discovered him after someone else found him languishing namelessly in a field, starved of fuel and rusting in the rain.  After working hard to be a benefit for his owner, who recently passed away, Earl found himself on the sidelines with muddy, flat feet and no where to go… Poor Earl.

Tastes Great, Less Filling

I used to work too much.  I still do every chance I get but I try to spread the chances out a bit more.  It’s an opportunity I’m taking advantage of since my 1.7 decade contracting business augured into the ground like a giant run-a-way drill bit drilling holes for pole building posts.  Why work hard when you can live off the benefits of investing your life in the system of entrepreneurial business ownership?  I’m not sure a question mark is appropriate at the end of a rhetorical, sarcastic comment. 

Head Too Small?

God never does the same thing over and over.  He tolerates us doing it, but I can’t find where he does it.  Maybe in some really macro galaxy way, but that doesn’t count.  He invents really weird things to.  And people.  I know some weird people.  It’s quite likely that someone else somewhere is saying that right now and in their head is a picture of me.  That’s ok.  I’m making a point and if that is happening, it helps me.  Here is my point:

We can’t figure anything out apart from God. 

There Will Always Be a Duck

My grandpa used to ask me, “What’s the difference between a duck?”  His bushy eyebrows would wiggle and his face would light up with the joy and mirth of this wonderfully terrible, incomprehensible joke.  I would say, “a duck and what?” with consternation and a hesitant contempt for this question.  I was never quite sure if I was missing something.  He always repeated the questions until I sighed, rolled my eyes and said, “I don’t know, what’s the difference between a duck?”  With fluent glee, he would nearly clap his hands and say,

A Moment Finally Came

A moment finally came, ending the anticipation and cleaving my old life away in a violent chop.  For months, dread grew within me, eating at my soul and generating an insatiable hunger.  The odor of this coming moment had stunk up the air around me as I struggled against the inevitable.  I kept busy producing checkmarks for the mundane.  I expended myself with heroic efforts to ward it off.  Sometimes it enveloped me at my desk or in my truck.  Even outside, slinging words through the phone in the clear fall air, it cascaded over me like a deluge of wet, sticky sludge and pooled in a chunky, rank pile of demise causing goo.  It immobilized me.

I Wish Tinker Bell was Real

I wish Tinker Bell was real. I wish I could squint my eyes really hard and clap my hands with joyful exuberance and she would wake up. I believe Tink, I believe! I’m doing it right now just to see what it feels like. The exuberance is a little muted because everyone else is asleep and I don’t want the dogs to start barking. This blog gets me in enough trouble already.

But wouldn’t that be nifty... if we could make things real and alive just by believing in them?