Ariella was a pretty 21 year old who stopped in today for her road test. She had mentioned early on that she hadn't finished high school but someday may start working to get her GED. It was a very quite drive until Ariella announces that she is feeling quite clammy.
"What do you mean by clammy?" I ask.
"You know, nervous, sweaty all over, like I really need a shower. I get like this when I go in for an interview. I've been hired all but two times but I'm worried if like I'm going to be interviewed for a CSI job that I'll get too nervous. My dream occupation is to be a crime scene investigator but if that doesn't work out then I may do cosmetology. But it's like people do cosmetology because it's easy and they can say they went to school. I am really good at helping people find things. I tell them to back up their steps so they can remember everything they did and I think that would be helpful if like, you know, someone got murdered. I don't want to be a police but a CSI investigator would be fun."
Quickly calculating in my mind the odds for Ariella actually doing CSI work and comparing that with the current pleasure she gets from watching crime shows on TV and thinking - "I can do that" - I tell her; "You go girl!"
Monday, June 25, 2012
Saturday, June 16, 2012
Jet Travel
Our family manufactured furniture and we had a showroom for our pretty items way down in North Carolina. In the early 70's my older brother Jet and I would drive a truck load of our mirrors and tables via a route that was then not interstate all the way through. There was a long flat rural stretch in Indiana and a couple of sections in North Carolina where we would wind our way up the mountain and down again, followed by another 30 miles of up the mountain and down.
Learned to drive a stick shift in a truck with a 28 foot box I did. First stop for a red light was in a little burg in Southern Michigan that had me at an upward incline, playing with the gas and clutch and praying that no fool was too close behind. We were not cuddled back then. "Don't drive a stick son? No better way than to learn on the fly with multiple gears while carrying a load of our expensive furniture."
Speaking of which my brother Jet was always interesting to drive with. Jet has an IQ that is MENSA level but some fine points understood instinctively by lesser mortals like myself sometimes takes him a little longer to grasp. We brought that same truck to Chicago one time and needed to back into the huge indoor freight docks at the Chicago Merchandise Mart. At least 30 semi loads could occupy that area at the same time.
As Jet was backing in I noticed from my shotgun position that the large mirror outside my window was going to soon encounter a beat up and faded yellow cement support and I advised my brother of the same. As he is explaining to me the dimensions of the mirror combined with it's angle and how it is impossible to hit said post with said mirror we get the crunch of glass against cement. Maybe I should have been taking notes.
One time we are in the mountains of North Carolina and Jet needs to find a rest room. We stop at a little general store and frankly I'm starting to get a little worried because Jet was kind of a radical in college and he was still wearing a pin that was a black and white hand shaking underneath the letters NAACP. Knowing that he wouldn't listen to advice from his younger brother I don't say anything about the pin but I'm worried. I'd seen movies of guys down South wearing sheets and this place looked like the backdrop to one of those movies.
In the store there were a half a dozen white men dressed in bib overalls sitting around a pot bellied stove. Some were actually whittling sticks with sharp looking knives. They were talking until we entered the front door and then became quite. Jet passed them by on the way to the can in the back and I stand about two feet from the front door, ready to combine my old track skills with my new found driving ability. Fortunately we were at the top of the mountain and it would be downhill for miles.
No one says a word, looks at us, or even moves a muscle the entire time we are there. As we are leaving and driving past the fleet of old cars with no rust sitting in a field I keep glancing back at my recently repaired outside mirror. It was a nice break from looking at the little post it notes that Jet has pasted for himself throughout the cab. "Slow down on curves." "Don't forget the turn signal." "Objects in the mirrors may be closer than you think." If only one would say, "Listen to your brother."
Learned to drive a stick shift in a truck with a 28 foot box I did. First stop for a red light was in a little burg in Southern Michigan that had me at an upward incline, playing with the gas and clutch and praying that no fool was too close behind. We were not cuddled back then. "Don't drive a stick son? No better way than to learn on the fly with multiple gears while carrying a load of our expensive furniture."
Speaking of which my brother Jet was always interesting to drive with. Jet has an IQ that is MENSA level but some fine points understood instinctively by lesser mortals like myself sometimes takes him a little longer to grasp. We brought that same truck to Chicago one time and needed to back into the huge indoor freight docks at the Chicago Merchandise Mart. At least 30 semi loads could occupy that area at the same time.
As Jet was backing in I noticed from my shotgun position that the large mirror outside my window was going to soon encounter a beat up and faded yellow cement support and I advised my brother of the same. As he is explaining to me the dimensions of the mirror combined with it's angle and how it is impossible to hit said post with said mirror we get the crunch of glass against cement. Maybe I should have been taking notes.
One time we are in the mountains of North Carolina and Jet needs to find a rest room. We stop at a little general store and frankly I'm starting to get a little worried because Jet was kind of a radical in college and he was still wearing a pin that was a black and white hand shaking underneath the letters NAACP. Knowing that he wouldn't listen to advice from his younger brother I don't say anything about the pin but I'm worried. I'd seen movies of guys down South wearing sheets and this place looked like the backdrop to one of those movies.
In the store there were a half a dozen white men dressed in bib overalls sitting around a pot bellied stove. Some were actually whittling sticks with sharp looking knives. They were talking until we entered the front door and then became quite. Jet passed them by on the way to the can in the back and I stand about two feet from the front door, ready to combine my old track skills with my new found driving ability. Fortunately we were at the top of the mountain and it would be downhill for miles.
No one says a word, looks at us, or even moves a muscle the entire time we are there. As we are leaving and driving past the fleet of old cars with no rust sitting in a field I keep glancing back at my recently repaired outside mirror. It was a nice break from looking at the little post it notes that Jet has pasted for himself throughout the cab. "Slow down on curves." "Don't forget the turn signal." "Objects in the mirrors may be closer than you think." If only one would say, "Listen to your brother."
Sunday, June 10, 2012
Jesus Is Lord
In the ancient bygone past, the 1970's, Jackie and I were involved with the charismatic renewal in the Catholic Church. We shared some leadership responsibilities for prayer meetings, went to big exciting conferences at places like Notre Dame and helped conduct Life in the Spirit seminars.
The first priority wasn't necessarily receiving the baptism in the Holy Spirit. Much more important was the message that the Father's love was made real to us through the person of Jesus. As important as it was to surrender our lives to Him as savior it was also necessary to ask Him to be the Lord of our lives as well. The heart of the charismatic renewal could and was expressed in the phrase - JESUS IS LORD.
I love how Jesus as Lord is emphasized in Paul's greeting to the Corinthians in his first recorded letter to them;
Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.
I thank my God always concerning you for the grace of God which was given you in Christ Jesus, that in everything you were enriched in Him, in all speech and in all knowledge, even as the testimony concerning Christ was confirmed in you,
so that you are not lacking in any gift, awaiting eagerly the revelation of our Lord Jesus Christ, who will also confirm you to the end, blameless in the day of our Lord Jesus Christ.
God is faithful, through whom you were called into fellowship with His Son, Jesus Christ our Lord.
"God is faithful." How powerful those words are when we are hurting and confused. Why? Because we know deep in our hearts and so we can still proclaim on our lips - Jesus is Lord. We don't have to understand the why, the where for, the timing. We don't have to have been perfect in all of our ways. We don't have to muster up the strength and courage on our own to go forward.
He has taken my burden and loves me with a love that comes from the Father of love. Because He is Lord I surrender all to Him. Because He is Lord I trust that I am not on my own. Because He is Lord I know He has a plan and a purpose for everything.
As my brother-in-law Jerry and sister-in-law Sherry travel to Japan today to pick up the body of their son Matt I pray that just as Matt knew and trusted Jesus as his Lord, so there would be many more through this that would be lead to confess - JESUS IS LORD!
Tuesday, June 5, 2012
This Ain't That Bad
I think it was W.C. Fields who wanted it put into his movie contracts that he wouldn't have to appear with either children or dogs because they would steal each scene they appeared in.
Neither Jackie or I are dog people, and that holds true for most of our kids as well. That being said, if any one of us happens to visit someone who has a dog, that large furry creature with his huge saliva coated tongue is sure to make a leaping beeline toward us, even if there happen to be 20 other people in the room.
That has been my lot in life. More enjoyable however is the fact that almost all children seem to love me as well. All except my niece Holly's little two year old Lauren.
The first time Lauren laid eyes on me as an infant she screamed. Every time after, no matter what mood she was in, if she spotted me she would start to cry. Before the big family Christmas gathering last winter her mom talked to Lauren and told her that Uncle Bob would be there and that everything would be OK and that she didn't have to cry or be worried about anything.
I talked to Lauren a few times that night and she looked right at me and didn't cry or even try to hold onto Holly's leg or anything like that. She did give me the look from her eyes that said; "I'm being good and you may have fooled my mom but you better watch your step Bud."
The next couple of times we met she acted fine but then last week, boom, as soon as she saw me she started crying. This is a challenge where I'm sure one day we will be buds, but not yet.
Did a road test for a 20 year old guy last week named Melvin. At a very slender 6'2" Melvin had a shaggy goatee, cornrows in his hair and a Bob Marley thing going on with his pony tail. I asked him what he did for work and Melvin told me he worked with children.
"So you must really love kids" I started. "Well, not at first. They're just like dogs: Dirty, smelly, loud, run around all the time and always jumping on you. Dogs and kids seem to love me though so I'm getting use to it."
I tell Melvin how dogs love me as well and then ask him, "I gather you don't have a dog?"
"My mother recently gave me a Pit Bull. I told her - Take it back! I don't want it! But she wouldn't take it back. That first week I didn't talk to it, I didn't feed it, I didn't wash it. My brother did though. After a week I'm laying in bed and that Pit Bull jumps into bed and snuggles right up next to me. It was then that I thought, hey, this ain't that bad!"
Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear! Maybe one day Lauren will see me coming and think, "Hey, he ain't that bad!"
Neither Jackie or I are dog people, and that holds true for most of our kids as well. That being said, if any one of us happens to visit someone who has a dog, that large furry creature with his huge saliva coated tongue is sure to make a leaping beeline toward us, even if there happen to be 20 other people in the room.
That has been my lot in life. More enjoyable however is the fact that almost all children seem to love me as well. All except my niece Holly's little two year old Lauren.
The first time Lauren laid eyes on me as an infant she screamed. Every time after, no matter what mood she was in, if she spotted me she would start to cry. Before the big family Christmas gathering last winter her mom talked to Lauren and told her that Uncle Bob would be there and that everything would be OK and that she didn't have to cry or be worried about anything.
I talked to Lauren a few times that night and she looked right at me and didn't cry or even try to hold onto Holly's leg or anything like that. She did give me the look from her eyes that said; "I'm being good and you may have fooled my mom but you better watch your step Bud."
The next couple of times we met she acted fine but then last week, boom, as soon as she saw me she started crying. This is a challenge where I'm sure one day we will be buds, but not yet.
Did a road test for a 20 year old guy last week named Melvin. At a very slender 6'2" Melvin had a shaggy goatee, cornrows in his hair and a Bob Marley thing going on with his pony tail. I asked him what he did for work and Melvin told me he worked with children.
"So you must really love kids" I started. "Well, not at first. They're just like dogs: Dirty, smelly, loud, run around all the time and always jumping on you. Dogs and kids seem to love me though so I'm getting use to it."
I tell Melvin how dogs love me as well and then ask him, "I gather you don't have a dog?"
"My mother recently gave me a Pit Bull. I told her - Take it back! I don't want it! But she wouldn't take it back. That first week I didn't talk to it, I didn't feed it, I didn't wash it. My brother did though. After a week I'm laying in bed and that Pit Bull jumps into bed and snuggles right up next to me. It was then that I thought, hey, this ain't that bad!"
Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear! Maybe one day Lauren will see me coming and think, "Hey, he ain't that bad!"
Sunday, June 3, 2012
Forty Wonderful Years
On June 3, 1972, Jackie and I said YES YES YES and off we went on our grand adventure. I suppose it's fitting that on our way out to Ba Ha Ba (Bar Harbor, Maine) we stopped at an establishment known as Perry's Nut House. For five hundred miles we had noticed the signs and it was just a little bit out of our main route, so we took the chance.
Now if this was, say, a museum that honored the War of 1812 Admiral Perry whose courage and daring was key to throwing off the last vestige of British rule on the continent, thus the phrase "That Perry sure had some big ones", it might have been worth (at least for me) the three hour delay. As it turned out Perry's main feature was a stuffed giraffe (body on one floor, neck and head through an opening on top). This, I found out in the trial and error which is marriage, was not something that appealed to my sweet bride.
I learned a few other interesting things on that initial trip as well. Thinking that it would be great to be able just to drive and have an on board navigator it was surprising when we were approaching Buffalo and just as we were passing exit 41A that lead to the bypass Jackie says "Turn here. TURN HERE! You should have turned there!" Lesson number one for me; Don't assume, learn to communicate.
Lesson number two was about the need to stop for breakfast. One of us, aka "the Grinch that stole Christmas" was not use to eating breakfast. The other evidently considered it a sacred ritual that might under special circumstances be delayed for maybe an hour, but always must be honored. I was stubborn one morning when nothing looked appealing to me right away and drove until lunch. What did I learn? Toast and juice are a lot more appealing than silence and steam from the one who means everything to me. (And I find out many years later that her body actually has to have at least a little nutrition several times a day.)
Now we have been married forty years. Forty years - Anytime someone would ask me how long I have been married I would always preface the number of years with the word "wonderful." And it's still true, we have now been married forty wonderful years.
You see a lot and go through a lot together in that amount of time. I have been blessed that a woman who was a believer did not do the smartest thing and fell in love with and then married a non believer. I have been blessed that the Lord of the Universe gave me parents that loved me, an interesting and fun family to grow up with, a great extended family, and a woman who has stood with me through every challenge.
He reached through the darkness of my soul and revealed Himself to me and has been my source of strength for over thirty nine years. He has blessed Jackie and me with children who have also come to know my incredible Lord, and given them believing spouses, and He has blessed us with many wonderful grandchildren. May the Holy Spirit move in their lives so that each may come to know The Father through Jesus.
Last night for our anniversary Jackie and I went out to dinner and then to the IMAX to see MEN IN BLACK III in 3D. In the movie agent J goes back in time to the year 1969 and pairs up with young agent K to save the world once again (or twice again?) They end up at a SoHo party hosted by Andy Warhol who is actually an undercover MIB agent and who is going crazy doing what he does. "I paint a picture of a tomato soup can and everyone thinks I'm a genius." My favorite line from the movie is after he begs agent K to get him a transfer he calls out to J and K as they are leaving; "I can't tell the boys from the girls anymore!"
Ah, transgender dressing, one of the relics from 1969. My mother use to say; "As long as they can tell the difference, who cares?" In 1969 I was in college and it seemed to me the whole world was changing. Music was different. Drugs became easy to find. The Viet Nam war is in full gear. Aquinas would go through a self study and make A through F grades optional. Students were shot by the National Guard at Kent State and revolution was in the air and appeared to be more than just cultural. Fads come and go but the decrease in moral certitude not only remains but builds upon itself, year by year.
On the positive side, The Catholic Church in America was beginning to experience a fresh move of the Holy Spirit. A by product of that was a woman took a bus trip to South Bend, found a book on the Catholic Charismatic renewal on a vacant bus seat, gave it to her brother-in-law who then went to prayer meetings at an Abbey in Three Rivers, got excited and prayed the name Jesus through the night for two straight nights and was given the gift of tongues during the third, who prayed with his kids to receive the Holy Spirit baptism, one of which was dating a guy named Bob who thought it was nice for the daughter but let's not talk religion, who married that crazy gal who prayed for that crazy guy who later surrendered to the move of the Holy Spirit and is thrilled that he did.
Since it's almost impossible for the Holy Spirit to move in fresh ways when someone or an organization wants to control Him the revival in the Catholic Church eventually faded, but the fruit produced also builds upon itself, year by year.
In marriage you learn to humble yourself to best serve and get along with your mate. The life we live together must be based on trust. Love is a commitment that transcends feelings. Communication has to always be open. We need to spend time together. Even after 40 years I find that I sometimes fall short on all counts.
The above is also true of our relationship with the Lord. All is based on trust which increases as we humble ourselves and pray.
Jackie and I have had forty wonderful years together. May the Lord bless your lives and marriages as well.
Now if this was, say, a museum that honored the War of 1812 Admiral Perry whose courage and daring was key to throwing off the last vestige of British rule on the continent, thus the phrase "That Perry sure had some big ones", it might have been worth (at least for me) the three hour delay. As it turned out Perry's main feature was a stuffed giraffe (body on one floor, neck and head through an opening on top). This, I found out in the trial and error which is marriage, was not something that appealed to my sweet bride.
I learned a few other interesting things on that initial trip as well. Thinking that it would be great to be able just to drive and have an on board navigator it was surprising when we were approaching Buffalo and just as we were passing exit 41A that lead to the bypass Jackie says "Turn here. TURN HERE! You should have turned there!" Lesson number one for me; Don't assume, learn to communicate.
Lesson number two was about the need to stop for breakfast. One of us, aka "the Grinch that stole Christmas" was not use to eating breakfast. The other evidently considered it a sacred ritual that might under special circumstances be delayed for maybe an hour, but always must be honored. I was stubborn one morning when nothing looked appealing to me right away and drove until lunch. What did I learn? Toast and juice are a lot more appealing than silence and steam from the one who means everything to me. (And I find out many years later that her body actually has to have at least a little nutrition several times a day.)
Now we have been married forty years. Forty years - Anytime someone would ask me how long I have been married I would always preface the number of years with the word "wonderful." And it's still true, we have now been married forty wonderful years.
You see a lot and go through a lot together in that amount of time. I have been blessed that a woman who was a believer did not do the smartest thing and fell in love with and then married a non believer. I have been blessed that the Lord of the Universe gave me parents that loved me, an interesting and fun family to grow up with, a great extended family, and a woman who has stood with me through every challenge.
He reached through the darkness of my soul and revealed Himself to me and has been my source of strength for over thirty nine years. He has blessed Jackie and me with children who have also come to know my incredible Lord, and given them believing spouses, and He has blessed us with many wonderful grandchildren. May the Holy Spirit move in their lives so that each may come to know The Father through Jesus.
Last night for our anniversary Jackie and I went out to dinner and then to the IMAX to see MEN IN BLACK III in 3D. In the movie agent J goes back in time to the year 1969 and pairs up with young agent K to save the world once again (or twice again?) They end up at a SoHo party hosted by Andy Warhol who is actually an undercover MIB agent and who is going crazy doing what he does. "I paint a picture of a tomato soup can and everyone thinks I'm a genius." My favorite line from the movie is after he begs agent K to get him a transfer he calls out to J and K as they are leaving; "I can't tell the boys from the girls anymore!"
Ah, transgender dressing, one of the relics from 1969. My mother use to say; "As long as they can tell the difference, who cares?" In 1969 I was in college and it seemed to me the whole world was changing. Music was different. Drugs became easy to find. The Viet Nam war is in full gear. Aquinas would go through a self study and make A through F grades optional. Students were shot by the National Guard at Kent State and revolution was in the air and appeared to be more than just cultural. Fads come and go but the decrease in moral certitude not only remains but builds upon itself, year by year.
On the positive side, The Catholic Church in America was beginning to experience a fresh move of the Holy Spirit. A by product of that was a woman took a bus trip to South Bend, found a book on the Catholic Charismatic renewal on a vacant bus seat, gave it to her brother-in-law who then went to prayer meetings at an Abbey in Three Rivers, got excited and prayed the name Jesus through the night for two straight nights and was given the gift of tongues during the third, who prayed with his kids to receive the Holy Spirit baptism, one of which was dating a guy named Bob who thought it was nice for the daughter but let's not talk religion, who married that crazy gal who prayed for that crazy guy who later surrendered to the move of the Holy Spirit and is thrilled that he did.
Since it's almost impossible for the Holy Spirit to move in fresh ways when someone or an organization wants to control Him the revival in the Catholic Church eventually faded, but the fruit produced also builds upon itself, year by year.
In marriage you learn to humble yourself to best serve and get along with your mate. The life we live together must be based on trust. Love is a commitment that transcends feelings. Communication has to always be open. We need to spend time together. Even after 40 years I find that I sometimes fall short on all counts.
The above is also true of our relationship with the Lord. All is based on trust which increases as we humble ourselves and pray.
Jackie and I have had forty wonderful years together. May the Lord bless your lives and marriages as well.
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