Category: random

  • Journalism is Literature in a Hurry

    On the surface, “Journalism is Literature in a Hurry,” sounds like a wonderfully, poetic statement. However, after awhile of studying this phrase, a person begins to see the awful truth.

    Journalism used to be the profession of gathering and reporting NEWS. It was unbiased and straightforward.

    This is no longer the case.

    Now, society is bombarded with live-feeds from around the world that are nothing more than opinion and gossip coupled to pictures designed to alter our way of thinking much like commercials advertisements.

    If you question this theory, ask yourself this: When was the last time you heard a complete enemy body count of Iraqi dead in conjunction with an attack on U. S. troops?

    You haven’t.

    But daily, you’ll hear how many U. S. Soldiers were killed. What Peter, Tom and Dan want you to believe are our fighting men and women are so demoralized that they will not or cannot fight back.

    Don’t you believe it! Never have I felt as proud as when I saw our President in Iraq, on the chow line, serving Thanksgiving Dinner to our service men and women.

    The President is their Commander-in-Chief. Typically, they serve him.

    What a wonderful role model those men and women have as a leader, for as Jesus said, “So the last will be first, and the first will be last.” Matthew 20:16 (NIV)

    Within a few minutes of the first viewing of this tape to come from Baghdad it was immediately followed by file footage of Senator Hillary Clinton (D-NY) visiting the troops. The CNN talking-head reporter was decrying President Bush’s arrival in Baghdad days ahead of the Senator as nothing more than a photo-op for re-election.

    Where am I going with this, you ask?

    The Senator was not the NEWS. Period.

    She should have had no mention in the story what so ever. Somewhere in his job, the talking head stopped reporting the NEWS and started issuing his opinion.

    Here is a solid litmus test for what is and is not NEWS, ask these four things of a story: Who, what, where and when. Most NEWS stories can be summed up in a very concise sentence. If they start talking about ‘why’ or add information not relevant to the story or are unable to directly quote sources, then they have crossed that threshold into opinion and gossip.

    Here are four very current examples. They are taken directly from the various media resources including television, radio, newspaper, magazine and Internet.

    Where is the story, the opinion and the gossip in each of the paragraphs?

    “Michael Jackson was arrested on child molestation charges in Los Angeles, yesterday. The Gloved-one invited the boy to spend the night with him at his secluded ranch. It is believed that they may have shared the same bed together.”

    “Rush Limbaugh is seeking treatment for a prescription drug addiction in Arizona starting immediately. He may or may not have purchased them illegally. He could be out of a job after he completes rehab.”

    “Kobe Bryant has been arraigned on one count of rape in Colorado today. He purchased a large diamond ring for his wife after being arrested. It was purchased to buy her silence.”

    “Scott Peterson will stand trial Stanislaus County for the December 2002 murder of his wife, Laci. Mr. Peterson is known to have had several affairs while married. He may have killed her to get out of his marriage.”

    The answers are the same for each paragraph. The first sentence is the story. The second sentence is purely gossip. The third sentence is strictly opinion.

    It is so easy to be misled by what we hear, see and read. We must safeguard ourselves against this eroding of our hearts and minds. Not everything that happens should be reported in its fullest and lurid detail.

    Do not mistake this as a call to censor the media. Instead it is a call to responsibility on our parts as the listener, the watcher, the reader and the consumer, to censor ourselves.

    Solomon wrote, “Wise men store up knowledge, but the mouth of a fool invites ruin.” Proverbs 10:14 (NIV)

    Finally, all of this is brought to our attention in the hope that we might more closely focus on what the season of Christmas really means. It isn’t journalism and it isn’t literature.

    It’s the good NEWS and it’s the truth. It passes the ‘who, what, where and when’ test.

  • Bin Laden’s Letter To the American people

    This is sickening. It is beyond me why the UK newspaper The Guardian needed to publish this as it is nothing but lies and propaganda. Worse, they left it as a stand-alone piece and did not refute a single line.

    This is nothing more than an antisemitic rant and should receive no international or national publicity. That being said, I am posting it because I think that eventually it will be used against the American people. After all, all of these murdering mad-mans plans are decidedly long-range.

    I pray that the U.S. Air Force’s BUFFs bomb him and his kind out of existence.

    In the name of God, the Compassionate, the Merciful
    To the American people,
    Peace be upon those who follow the righteous track. Hereafter, The subject of my talk to you is the overwhelming control of capital (Var.: money) and its effect on the ongoing war between us. I direct my talk specifically to those who support real change, especially the youth.

    I say from the onset: Your former president warned you previously about the devastating Jewish control of capital and about a day that would come when it would enslave you; it has happened. Your current president warns you now about the enormity of capital control and it has a cycle whereby it devours humanity when it is devoid of the precepts of God’s law (Shari’a). The tyranny of the control of capital by large companies has harmed your economy, as it did ours, and that was my motivation for this talk. Tens of millions of you are below the poverty line, millions have lost their homes, and millions have lost their jobs to mark the highest average unemployment in 60 years. Your financial system in its totality was about to collapse within 48 hours had not the administration reverted to using taxpayer’s money to rescue the vultures by using the assets of the victims. As for us, our Iraq was invaded in response to pressure from capitalists with greed for black gold, and you continue to support the oppressive Israelis in their occupation of our Palestine in response to pressures on your administration by a Jewish lobby backed by enormous financial capabilities.

    An observer of the policies of the new administration realizes that the change is tactical and not strategic; it does not at all agree with the change you seek. There are very many indicators of this, especially concerning important matters related to your security and economy, particularly the ongoing war between us. The previous administration was successful in implicating you in these wars against us under the premise that they are necessary for your security or according to the promise that it would be short and would finish in six days or six weeks. Six years has passed, and that administration is gone without realizing the victory. The man calling for change promised you victory in Afghanistan and set a time for withdrawal. Before the end of the set time, Petraeus, from the previous administration, came and asked for an extension of six more months. If it was the six-day war that started by President Bush, and six years have not been enough to finish it, then the wise men should question how long would a six-month war take and whether you are able to fund a war that requires a large amount of money that weakens your economy and your dollar. For Obama to leave one-third of the soldiers in Iraq, and the statements from his administration about this, especially from Aderno, about the possibility of Obama’s ordering the return of the forces he took out of Iraq, it would have been better for him had he disagreed with the ethics of the previous administration and adopted the truth as a friend and told you that he will not withdraw from Iraq, which may not serve the US interests but it is in the interest of the large corporations. The course of the policies of the present administration in several areas clearly reveals that whoever enters the White House, even with good intentions to safeguard the peoples’ interest, is no more than a train operator. His only task is to keep the train on the tracks that are laid down by the lobbyists in New York and Washington to serve their interests first, even if it is counter to your security and economy. Any president who tries to move the train from the lobbyist’s tracks to a track for the American people’s interests will confront very strong opposition and pressures from the lobbyists. Your president described the decision by the court in favor of corporations to intervene in the political arena as a victory, but it is not [a victory] for the American people except for the big corporations. There is no doubt about it that it is a right, and it is also a right for the administration to support the oppressive Israelis for the continued occupation of our land and the killing of our brothers, marking a victory for the Jewish lobby. The president was not able to defend you against the security and economic loss. The way for change and freeing yourselves from the pressure of lobbyists is not through the Republican or the Democratic parties, but through undertaking a great revolution for freedom: not to free Iraq from Saddam Hussein but to free the White House and to free Barack Husayn so he can implement the change you seek. It does not only include improvement of your economic situation and ensure your security, but more importantly, helps him in making a rational decision to save humanity from the harmful [greenhouse] gases that threaten its destiny.

    For the American youth to succeed in this change, they need to relive the history of their ancestors and the conditions in their country more than two centuries ago. They need to understand the similarities during that era and their present situation, especially in their fundamental conditions. The British Parliament sided with corporations, then against the interests of the citizens. You have noticed the Congress’s stand with corporations against the peoples’ interests when they refused to legislate against interference in the elections by corporations.

    The British military governor in the United States used to have the right to appoint judges and mayors. Similarly, the corruption is deep rooted now in all higher authorities, thus giving authorities over these offices to corporations. Subsequently, the higher court adjudicated their support of political financing by corporations under such circumstances.

    Reading the book by the intellectual Thomas Paine helped your fathers in the revolution against the oppressors. It is useful for you to read it under the current, similar circumstances. You are in need of people like Thomas Paine to publish books pointing out the similarities between the two phases and that will have a similar effect. You also are in need of men with courage and initiative like those of your forefathers at that time when they refused to allow one company to harm the interests of the United States, a company that had a monopoly on tea and its prices. Yet there now are many companies that endanger the United States’ economy, which continues to be vulnerable to collapse and they also formulate the policies of the White House. They threw hundreds of thousands of soldiers against us and have formed an alliance with the Israelis to oppress us and occupy our land; that was the reason for our response on the eleventh.

    Palestine has been under occupation for decades, and none of your presidents talked about it until after September 11 when Bush realized that your oppression and the tyranny against us were part of the reason for the attack. Then he talked about the necessity for two states. Obama is trying to address the issue with the same solutions suggested by his predecessor; they are quilting fruitless solutions not of concern to us. If you want a real settlement that guarantees your security in your country and safeguards your economy from being depleted in a manner similar to our war of attrition against the Soviet Union, then you have to implement a roadmap that returns the Palestine land to us, all of it, from the sea to the river, it is an Islamic land not subject to being traded or granted to any party.

    In conclusion: Be assured that we do not fight for mere killing but to stop the killing of our people. It is a sin to kill a person without proper, justifiable cause, but terminating his killer is a right. You should be aware that justice is the strongest army and security offers the best livelihood; you lost it by your own making when you supported the Israelis in occupying our land and killing our brothers in Palestine. The road to safety starts with the stopping of aggression. Palestine shall not be seen captive for we will try to break its shackles.

    The United States shall pay for its arrogance with the blood of Christians and their funds.

    Peace be upon those who follow the righteous track.

    The righteous track? You’ve got to be kidding me. Terroristic murder is not a righteous track I want to follow, so FUCK YOU Bin Laden!

  • K.I.S.S.

    In radio it is often heard said from the Program Director to the On-Air Personality, “Keep it Simple, Stupid.” For me, that saying always bugged the crap out of me, so I changed it to “Keep It Short (and) Simple.”

    No insults needed. That’s what I intend to do today.

    I realize that there are several kinds of people in the world these days and yet they can all be separated into two columns.

    Those who are willing to wait for someone to come along and give them a free hand out and those who are resourceful enough to make things happen on their own. The other thing that crosses my tired mind (lack of sleep due to pain) is the idea of lust.

    We all deal with it, whether it is sex or money or a new car or whatever. Here’s a great definition I just heard, “Lust of the heart is anything that takes your eyes off of Jesus.”

    Now, to K.I.S.S. this pain good-bye…

  • Learning from My Backache

    It sounds so humiliating, naked, starving, poor, and then to have an iron yoke placed on your neck, all the while serving your enemy. By the end of the first day of such treatment I would probably be begging for death.

    To a much lesser degree I had the same thing happen to me just recently and I almost didn’t see it. The Lord had to really humble me to get my attention.

    In November I was fortunate enough to complete my doctorate in theology, and then in December I was plagued by a very painful backache. Which· do_ you think got the most attention?

    If you said the backache, you would be correct.

    It put me down for nearly the entire month . I slept on the floor and walked with a stoop, complained bitterly, blamed this or that for causing it, and refused to be thankful for the good things God had given me in my life.

    In short, I was miserable ·and wanted to make everyone around me aware of it. How I came to receive this backache, I do not know, however what is important is that I was taken to the spiritual wood shed and taught that I could be handling the blessings of the pain differently.

    I was attempting to bury myself in the television, distracting my thoughts and my feelings, when it occurred to me that I was wasting my life away. I realized I was doing away with a precious gift that the Lord had handed me.

    That gift was time.

    For years the Lord had granted me time enough to work quietly on my degree, to study and write and study even more. And now when I was laid up I could not be bothered to spend anytime with him in prayer or in his word.

    I felt ashamed of myself. The first thing I knew I had to do was to get up of£ the floor and get my Bible.

    It hurt terribly to roll over. I was lying on my back, knees bent, holding a mirror that I could see the television. Once I was up, though I hobbled to the back room and got my Bible and laid down there.

    I opened it up and just started reading. The second thing I had to do was pray. I prayed for Jesus to forgive me for wasting his time. I also thanked him for the backache.

    I feel it was appropriate to thank Him because I needed to have my eyes opened to what I was not doing. I did not blame my backache on him, claiming he gave it to me.

    No! Instead, I accepted responsibility for my backache and made it mine!

    Many times I find myself in a situation that I don’t want to be in and all I can do is complain and blame. That’s right, I complain and blame. I figure most people do the same thing. I decided to turn over a new leaf and instead of complaining and blaming; I’ll thank the Lord for the opportunity to live in the moment that I find myself in.

    I may not understand why I’m in that situation or what I am supposed to do to get out of it, but I’ll say thank-you anyway  As of yet, I have not found ‘happiness ‘promised to us in the Bible.

    However, I do find the word ‘joy ‘ mentioned time and· again and that is given freely because the Lord wants us to have great joy in our live . All we have to do is ask for it , but first we must accept responsibility for the circumstances we find ourselves in and treat them as a blessing because we are endowed with free will.

    So here’s a simple 5-step plan to get in touch with the Lord and your joy:

    1. Turn off the noise and clutter in your busy life, the television, the radio, the internal voice that you use to rationalize your activities, etc.

    2. Discipline yourself physically to pick up your Bible, the word of God, and read it daily so that it’s in your hearts and mind.

    3. Pray daily to Jesus with all of your heart.

    4. Attend church and fellowship on a regular basis sharing in the Lord’s word.

    5. Teach yourself to listen with your heart to what the Lord is saying to you. It is really that simple.

    Listen for him to speak to you through prayer and the Bible. Remember to serve God through both the good times and the bad and you ‘ll find real joy.

  • So Now What…

    Having just received my doctoral diploma in theology and a pastoral certificate, I am still lost as how to best use either. I have asked God for direction knowing that he has given me a number of skills and a couple of talents. Yet I haven’t a clear picture of the path I am meant to walk.

    Faith and religion have always been separate issues for me and I have very little use for religion. The best I can say for it is that religion has caused the death (including Jesus’ death) of more people than any other reason in the history of mankind and without it there would be no  mankind .

    O. Henry would love this piece of irony had he thought of it

    Faith on the other hand is all about God and what Be does in a person ‘s life. It is all unseen, yet known because there is no other explanation for why things happen.

    That is how I came to have a degree in theology. It was the farthest thing from my mind until I sat down with my guidance counselor and we discovered I was nearly there.

    But now that I have gotten there and gone beyond that …what am I supposed to do with it?

    I have a friend who keeps telling me that my language is too rough and that I shouldn’t involve myself in course joking, etc. She says, “It’s not right for a pastor to talk like that.”

    Yet that is exactly who I am! I am rough and tumble and I cuss and I engage in graphic jokes because that’s where I think people who need God the most live.

    These are the same people who look at the pages of porno, lusting in their hearts and dirty movies, desiring things of this world and screw around with their neighbor ‘s wife or husband all the time. They go out and get drunk, fight and do other unspeakable things that I really don’t want to know much about.

    It wasn’t all that long ago I was exactly like them and I could be just like them still if I hadn’t decided that I needed God more than the trappings of man. I’m not a pulpit pounder or an in-your-face evangelist.

    Instead I am a fellow who just leads by example the best way I know how. Too me that means, sipping a beer in some seedy bar discussing, “titties, politics and God.”

    It was Billy Joel who sang that being with the sinners is more fun than being with the Saints. On the surface that may look to be true but deeper down it’s the sinners who need the Word more than the Saints.

    I can testify directly to that! Besides it was Jesus who said in Matthew 9:12, “It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick.” (NIV)

    While I’m on a confession kick here, I also have a temper issue. I get real pissed off while driving. I dislike unsafe drivers and I will not hesitate to swear at them. I embarrass myself at times because I get so angry.

    I also get very mad at the talking heads on the network news casts. I lose it when they present an opinion as if it were fact. That just ticks me off and I will say the foulest things at the box .

    Again it’s embarrassing.

    In time, I figure these things will get worked out. That is God ‘s job. Be changes people and I know I am somewhere on that lengthy list so I am not worrying too much about it .

    I just hope Be finds the time and I happen to be listening at the moment Be decides to point out to me how I am supposed to use al.l this education he has given me.

  • A Flood For Christmas

    It was just before Christmas and the tree was standing, decorated, looking like a perfect little tree. The presents were wrapped in their brightly colored Christmas wear. They were patiently waiting for Christmas morning.

    Tommy and Adam shared a bedroom. Tommy was older and that is why he got the top bed of the wooden framed bunk bed, their dad had built. Adam got the lower one. On rainy days it doubled as a fort. And lately, it always seemed to be raining.

    Every morning Tommy would get up and look out the window of their bedroom to see what the weather was like. He had to climb up on a stool and then onto the top of his dresser which he also shared with Adam.

    Tommy knew that he was not supposed to do that. He knew that Mom would get mad at him and that when Dad got home he would have to go out to the shed for a whipping.

    But he did it anyway. Tommy could not wait. He had to know if it was still raining or if he would get to go outside with his brother and play. Tommy wanted to go outside very badly.

    Tommy moved the stool over to the dresser where he could climb up on it. He looked out. It was cloudy and still raining. He had just stood up fully on the top of the dresser when Mom walked into their bedroom. Tommy was in big trouble.

    “How many times have you been told not to climb on the furniture?” Mom asked. Then she added without hesitation, “Get down now!” She shook her head at Tommy. He knew what that meant. Mom was going to tell his dad what he had done.

    Tommy also knew that it was not polite to argue back with Mom, so he jumped down from the dresser top and stood there with his hand behind his back and his head down as if he were looking at the toes of his boot. Sassing Mom would only make matters worse.

    Adam did not pay any attention to what had happened. He was busy looking for his other boot that was lost somewhere underneath their bed. Dad had always told Tommy that he must behave and set a good example for his younger brother. Tommy was not doing a very good job of that.

    After breakfast, Adam and Tommy set about doing their chores. One chore was feeding King. He was their big German shepherd dog. He liked to wag his tail and lick Adam and Tommy’s face. King would also play fetch with anyone who picked up a stick and tossed it. But the best thing King did was protect his family from everything that came out of the forest at night.

    With the sky still cloudy and rain still coming down, Tommy and Adam started building a fort. They tucked in an old Army blanket that Mom had given them and let it hang over the side of the bunk bed. With one side protected by the bedroom wall, it was the perfect fort. The top bunk was the lookout.

    All day long Adam and Tommy played in their fort. They fought off one Indian attack after another. They also caught bank robbers and rode their stick ponies around their room.

    Their ponies were old mops with the handles sawed short. The string of the mop head made the pony’s mane and an old flour sack stuffed with chicken feathers made the head. They were perfect ponies. Dad had added leather reins to the ponies by cutting an old belt in half and tacking it to the handle.

    With all the fun they were having, they did not notice that King was barking wildly. He had been barking for quite some time.

    Suddenly Mom burst into their fort. She had her coat and rain hat on and she had Adam and Tommy’s coats and hats with her. She grabbed Adam by the hand and said, “Come on, we have to get out of the house. Let’s go!”

    Once they were outside Tommy was surprised to see the river’s water flowing right by the front porch. All of the rain had caused the river to overflow its banks and flow to the township of Klamath.

    The river was coming up fast and it was still raining. Mom reached down and unhooked King’s chain from the side of the house. He took off at a full run for the backside of the home.

    Tommy was running as fast as he could, while Mom carried Adam in her arms. She followed King. He seemed to know exactly what to do. They were rushing towards Simpson’s Timber Mill, where Dad was working.

    Tommy stopped and turned around. He was only yards from their house. He could see his bedroom window. He could also see that the river was quickly surrounding their house until the muddy, brown water was all around it.

    Suddenly Mom called out, “Tommy! Come here!” Her voice sounded strangely different. He had never heard her sound like that before and it scared him. So he turned and ran to where his mom was. She took him by the hand and started half-walking and half-running up the mud-slick hillside.

    Tommy looked over his shoulder just in time to see his home turn sideways and slip into the chocolate-colored water of the river. And as he blinked, the house was gone. Just the top of the house could be seen floating away through the water-swollen streets of the little town.

    Tommy was crying. He was scared. He wanted to stop and rest but Mom had him by the hand and she was still running up the hillside. When Mom finally stopped running, she turned to see what was happening. All of Klamath was underwater. Just the tops of chimneys could be seen marking the places where homes had once stood. Everywhere there was debris floating rapidly toward Terwer. Only Vern’s Tackle Shop was left standing as water flowed freely through its shattered storefront.

    King could be heard barking off in the distance. Mom turned back and started walking again towards his voice. King had saved them. He was a good dog.

    They were heading towards Simpson’s. But before they reached the lumberyard they would end up going past the Catholic Church. Everything looked so different to Tommy even though he had been to the little church just last Sunday. Adam was crying and Mom was trying to comfort him with her soft singing, but he would have none of it. Tommy was quiet because he was nearly out of breath. He was running as fast as his short legs would carry him. He was trying to focus on Kings barking, off in the distance.

    King’s barking was growing closer and closer. They must be near him, but Tommy didn’t care. He wanted to stop and sit down. He wanted to rest, but Mom would not let him. And every time Tommy looked back the river seemed to have edged ever closer. Tommy felt scared.

    When they finally reached the top of the hill they were met by King. He was wet and muddy and shivering from the rain. Yet he was wagging his tail and he licked Tommy in the face.

    Mom put Adam down and for the first time since they had to run away from their home. Adam did not cry. Mom held his hand as King licked him all over his face, too. Adam loved King and King loved Adam.

    It was about that time that Tommy realized where he was. It was a great big place with a high steeple and a big bell. There were lots of other people there too. They had all run up the hillside to get away from the river as it rushed through Klamath. There were people there that Tommy did not know. Everyone looked confused and scared. Some people were crying.

    The one person that Tommy did recognize was Father Heinz. He was a very tall man. He was taller than Dad and Tommy knew Dad was a giant. Father Heinz was very skinny too. He wore a black suit with a large white collar.

    Tommy wanted to ask Father Heinz why he wore a white collar that looked like a dog’s collar. But Tommy knew that he must not. Father Heinz was a very important man and should not be disturbed by such a foolish question. That would be wrong.

    Mom said, “We’re flooded out, the house is gone.” Father Heinz replied, “I know. It happened so quickly. I’ve called for help.” Mom started to cry and Father Heinz put his long, lanky arm across her shoulders and walked her and the two children up to the large staircase of the church.

    Father Heinz opened the church door and Adam and Tommy ran inside and into the large room that echoed every time someone talked. Tommy liked that and Adam did too. They completely forgot their manners and about being soaking wet.

    Mom appeared in the large echoing room and said, “Come on boys, let’s get dried off.” Her voice echoed throughout the room. Adam raced off toward her but Tommy was naughty and waited a few seconds longer as he called out “Who-who” like an owl. Mom changed the tone of her voice and sounded more demanding, “Now, Tommy!” This time Tommy did not hesitate. He ran to his mom with delight as he heard the echoing of his boots on the wooden floor.

    After they were out of their wet clothing and dried off, Adam was laid down for a nap. Tommy was too, but he did not want to sleep. He lay there in the big wooden pew and listened to the rain as it fell. He thought about seeing his home wash away with the river and about how much fun it was to shout ”who-who” and have it echo all around the church room. Next thing Tommy knew Mom and Dad were getting him and Adam up.

    Their clothes were all dry and smelled clean. And the church smelled like bread baking. Tommy loved to play Big Helper in the kitchen when Mom was baking bread. He always got a hot, fresh piece with butter melting on it before anyone else did. Sometimes the bread would be so hot that Mom would tell Tommy to wait and let it cool off. But Tommy couldn’t wait that long and he’d burn his lips and tongue. Then Mom would scold him, “I told you to wait, silly boy.”

    Tommy was in Dad’s arms and he felt safe. “Tom, you’re welcome to stay here as long as you need to,” Father Heinz said. “Thanks just the same, Father, but were heading over to Ma and Pa’s,” came Dad’s reply.

    Dad carried Tommy and Adam out to the old pickup truck they called ‘Buella.’ Buella was a green Studebaker with a rounded nose and roof. She made Tommy think of a hippo when he looked at her.

    Sometimes Dad would let Tommy ride in the back of Buella. They would not go very far and Tommy had to stay close to the cab, but it was still great fun. The feeling of the wind rushing through his blonde hair made Tommy wonder if that was what a bird felt when he was flying. To ride in the back of Buella was exciting.

    But no one would be riding in the back today, except King. The rain was still falling and it beat hard on the roof and it ricocheted off making a horrible racket. Mom climbed in on the passenger side. Dad closed the door for her. He ordered King into the bed of the truck and chained him to the railing. Then he climbed into Buella.

    A few miles north on U.S. Highway 101 was Sanders Court. That is where Ma and Pa Sanders lived. They were from Oklahoma just like Dad. They were going to stay with them. Ma and Pa had a few cabins nestled back in the woods. Pa once said, “This is God’s country.” And Tommy felt lucky to be going to live where God lived too. “One day,” Tommy thought, “I want to visit his ranch.

    Along the way, Tommy was surprised to see so many people camping out. There were tents everywhere. Tommy grew excited. He saw the tents and thought he might get to go camping as well. But Dad kept driving up the road.

    It was dark by the time Dad pulled Buella into Ma and Pa’s long, muddy driveway. Adam was asleep. The radio was on, but it was a lot of talking and no country western music came from it.

    The sun poked his face through the clouds for the first time in weeks and it smiled on everything. Tommy could smell the good smell of bacon as it cooked and hear the voices of Mom and Ma in the kitchen. Adam was next to him and still sleeping, when Tommy slipped out from under the patchwork quilt.

    The hard wooden floor felt cold on his bare feet, but the air was warm. Tommy looked for his socks and pulled them on. Then he grabbed at his blue jeans, which lay across the foot of the big feather bed, and yanked them over his legs.

    The soft clatter of china met him as he opened the bedroom door. Tommy was hungry and his stomach growled over and over. He walked through the living room and into the kitchen where Mom and Ma were working. Ma smiled at him and said, “Good morning’ sleepy-head.” Tommy blinked away a sleeper and said, “Good morning, Ma.” Then he went over and got a hug from Mom. She kissed him on the forehead.

    “Go get Adam up, please.” Mom requested. Tommy darted off and back around the corner and back into the darkness of the bedroom. Adam was already sitting up in bed, rubbing his eyes. He smiled a sleepy smile at Tommy and Tommy said, “Get up and get dressed. It’s almost breakfast time.”

    Adam scrambled out of the covers. He still had his socks on, so all he needed to do was pull on his jeans that also lay across the end of the bed. Together they rushed out into the living room and then into the kitchen. MA was just spooning up some fried potatoes onto two small plates set off on the counter of what was called the nook.

    Mom picked Adam up and seated him on one of the big chairs as Tommy climbed up into the one by its side. They were just finishing up their prayers when Ma stepped out the back door and started ringing the bell.

    The bell wasn’t a bell. It was a metal triangle bar that hung on a chain. Ma made it ring by hitting it with another metal bar. She could go fast and strike all three sides and make a sound that went ding-ding-ding over and over again.

    Pa and Dad came in the back door, their boots making clump-clump-clump sounds as they stomped the porch trying to shake off the mud that clung to them. Then Tommy heard the scratching noise of the boot brush as they ran their boots through it.

    The boot brush was three coarse straw brushes, nailed to a wooden cradle. One brush was on the bottom with the brush side up. The other two brushes were nailed into the sides of the cradle with the brush sides out. A person stood in front of it and dragged their boot through it one at a time.

    “Take them off fellas!” Ma scolded. “You’re not tracking mud through my kitchen.” Dad and Pa obeyed by sitting down at the front door and unlacing their boots.

    Things seemed perfect in the early morning with the sunshine starting to shine. Tommy felt safe warm and dry. And it looked as if most of the flooding was over.

    Pa said, “Tom and me rode on over to the town site.” He paused to take another bite of scrambled egg. “Nearly everything is gone. Margie, it’s a good thing you grabbed them youngsters when you did.” There was a long pause at the breakfast table. The thought of what could have happened did not need to be talked about.

    “Too bad it’s so close to Christmas,” Ma said. Then she stopped, but it was too late. Tommy stopped eating. He had not thought about that.

    Tommy knew that it was naught to speak at the breakfast table unless he was spoken to first, but he could not help himself. “How is Santa going to know where to find us, Mom?” he blurted out.

    Pa answered him, “When I was a youngster, not much older than you, we moved all the time it seemed, but Santa always found me.” He smiled at Tommy. Pa must be right and Tommy knew it, so he went back to eating his breakfast. Tommy did not get in trouble for being naughty and acting impolite. It was an important question and it needed to be answered.

    Besides Ma and Pa had a Christmas tree and wherever there was a Christmas tree, Santa Claus would have to visit there. So Adam and Tommy did not have to worry, because Santa would find them.

    For the next few days, Pa and Dad were gone for long hours. Tommy enjoyed it when Dad came home. He always had stories to tell of what he had seen from the flood and what he had done that day. When Dad came home at night and after they had all sat down and ate supper, Tommy and Adam would climb up on his knee and ask him to tell them a story.

    Dad told about how their home had washed down the river and had gotten stuck under the Douglas Bridge. Several other homes were smashed up against the bridge as well. Finally, the bridge washed out. It cracked in several places across where the cars and trucks used to drive. Then it fell over. Everything that had piled up against it or had gotten stuck under the bridge had floated out to sea.

    Then Dad went on to tell the boys about how some of the roofs of some of the houses were still floating around in the Pacific Ocean. Adam interrupted, “Did you see our roof, Daddy?” Dad shook his head and answered, “Nope, I sure didn’t.”

    Dad continued with his stories. He told how some fishermen had managed to rescue a young bull that had become trapped on an old barn roof, floating in the middle of the ocean. The bull’s name was Captain Courageous. “Minutes after they pulled him from the roof, it sank outta sight,” Dad said as he finished his story.

    Tommy and Adam were absorbed in Dad’s tales. They enjoyed them so much that they were fussy when Mom said it was time for them to get ready for bed. “There’ll be plenty of time for more stories later,” she said.

    Christmas morning was on them before either Adam or Tommy knew it. Adam was still too young to understand what Christmas meant and Tommy was just old enough to know it was a day that he would get presents from Santa Claus.

    Tommy was very excited when he woke up. It was still dark outside so Tommy lay in the bed listening to the noises that the cows were making outside. Clank-clank-clank went the cows’ bell. She was leading them to the barn for milking. Afterward, the morning was quiet except for an occasional “moo.”

    Soon the screen door squeaked and then it banged shut. Tommy could hear the heavy boots of Dad and Pa as they came into the house through the back door. It was time to get up.

    After quickly getting himself dressed, Tommy quietly opened the door to his bedroom and peeked out into the living room, where the Christmas tree stood shining.

    Over the fireplace were two socks. They were bulging full of goodies and that made Tommy grow even more excited. Santa Claus had found Tommy and his brother after all. Pa was right

    Soon everyone was up, Mom and Ma and Adam too. There was excitement everywhere. Under the tree, Santa had left one great big present for Tommy and Adam, plus a smaller one for each of them.

    They ripped off the wrappings and pulled from each box a bow and arrow set. The bow was painted white with red, yellow, and blue stripes at either end. The arrows all had rubber tips. Also in the box was a colorful headdress just like the one in Pa’s picture book.

    Tommy put his headdress on jumped up and gave out a loud “whoop.” He was going to go hunting just like the Indian boy named Little Two Feathers. Dad had told Tommy and Adam that story many times as they fell off to sleep.

    Dad would start, “Little Two Feathers lived deep in the forest. He lived with his family in a village near a lake. One day his father, who was a great chief, gave Little Two Feathers a bow and a quiver of arrows.

    “Little Two Feathers learned to shoot his arrows straight. He was so good at shooting his arrows that he could hit whatever he was shooting at.

    “One day Little Two Feathers saw a man like none other he had ever seen before. The man walked so loudly that he scared off the animals of the forest. Little Two Feathers told his father about the strange, noisy man. His father told Little Two Feathers that the man he had seen was a white man. He told Little Two Feathers that he and many others like him were soon going to be everywhere.

    “Little Two Feathers thought long and hard about what his father had said. It was then that Little Two Feathers decided that he must move far away so that he could always hunt and not have to worry about the white man scaring off all of the animals of the forest.

    “So Little Two Feathers walked and walked and walked so long into the night that he had to light a torch to find his way. Then he walked so far that he walked right up into the sky.

    “And he can still be seen in the night time sky. All one has to do is look for the brightest star in the sky and that Tommy be Little Two Feathers.”

    Adam put on his headdress he stood up and let out a “whoop” too. Then together they tore off the paper of the big box that had both of their names on it. Inside the box was a bunch of sticks and a white piece of canvas with moons, stars, horses, and birds on it. It was a teepee.

    Both Adam and Tommy were so excited that they had forgotten about the socks hanging along the mantle. They wanted to go outside on the front porch and set up the teepee and play.

    Ma and Mom went to the kitchen and started making breakfast. Pa and Dad went outside with the teepee and started setting it up for Adam and Tommy. But before they could get it all set up it was time for breakfast.

    It was very hard for Tommy to eat slowly. He wanted to be bad and eat like King sometimes did. But he knew that was rude so he forced himself to go slowly. And just to make sure he had taken plenty of time he even waited to ask to be excused. When he did, he ran outside onto the front porch and put his headdress on.

    Soon Mom and Dad and Ma and Pa and Adam were out on the front porch. Tommy climbed up on the railing. He was pretending that it was a cliff. When he looked down he squealed with surprise.

    In the yard in front of the house were two sleigh marks and several hoof prints. Santa Claus had been right outside Adam and Tommy’s room. He had landed in the yard instead of the roof. Tommy screamed with delight. Adam was excited too and he ran down the steps and around the side of the house to see if Santa Claus was still there.

    It was just after dinner when Adam remembered the stockings. They were full of candy canes and hard candy. Tommy licked at his candy cane slowly and until it was pointed. Adam bit into him with a loud crunch.

    The day was one of the best that Tommy could ever remember. He had gotten a bow and arrow set and had seen Santa Claus sleight marks. Tommy knew he was going to be a great tracker. He had proved that by reading the reindeer hoof marks in the yard near his bedroom window.

  • The Glass Eye

    “Roger that,” the engine operator said as he slipped the gear into drive.

    The large fire-rescue truck moved forward, slowly building up speed. I reached over and flipped on the lights and sounded the siren.

    I then pulled out the map book and started thumbing through the index for the street name.

    “You don’t have to bother with that,” said the operator, “I know where were going, I drink there all the time.”

    We entered onto the highway then exited at the next off ramp. The fire-rescue truck made a left hand turn and proceeded straight.

    I sounded the siren again as the operator slowed for the upcoming intersection as light was red.

    Leaning forwarded in the cab and looking to the left I could not see any vehicles approaching. The lane was clear.

    I looked to my right and saw that there were no cars or trucks coming from that direction either and said, “Clear left, clear right, clear left.”

    The engine operator stepped down on the gas pedal and the truck picked up speed again. We completed this ritual three more times before we made a right hand turn.

    “Quarter of a mile — on the left,” the operator stated.

    There was a sheriff’s vehicle already in the parking lot.

    “He must have called it in,” I thought.

    The dispatcher said it was a possible heart attack and that CPR was already in progress. Then a second rig pulled up right behind us.

    I opened the cab of the truck, climbed down, put on my white helmet and walked towards the lounge, pausing to look around to take note of how many crew people he had on hand.

    A third crew truck pulled into the gravel driveway and parked. All total there were firefighters and other emergency personnel, so I stepped inside.

    The scene appeared surrealistic. The jukebox was playing an upbeat county-western song while two patrons sat at the bar drinking as two sheriff’s deputies did CPR on a man lying at the foot of the bar.

    Two firefighters were right behind me.

    “You two take over for the deputies,” I directed.

    A third firefighter came in carrying oxygen and a defibrillator.

    I looked at the firefighter with the equipment and said, “Set up the bag valve mask at 15 liters.” The firefighter did as instructed.

    Once relieved from doing CPR the two deputies walked over to me.

    “How’s it going?” one of them asked.

    I smiled, “Great. How long were you at it?”

    “About five minutes,” the bigger of the two answered.

    “How long was he down before you got here?” I continued.

    They looked at each other, then back at me and the bigger one answered again, “A couple of minute’s maybe. We were across the street at the diner.”

    “Thanks guys, good job,” I told them, “One last thing, can you clear out the two lumps sitting at the end of the bar?”

    Both deputies nodded and said, “Yeah.”

    They immediately walked to the end of the bar and asked the two drinkers to leave. Both of them started to put up an argument, but then thought better of it.

    Walking over, I unplugged the jukebox as it started into its second song. By this time the defibrillator was set up and ready to go.

    With the ambulance still 5 minutes away this was the victim’s only chance, so I nodded a go-ahead to the rescuers as they prepared to deliver the first shock. The man jerked slightly as the energy coursed through him.

    Nothing changed.

    The firefighters went back to doing CPR. They did this three more times and each time they had the same end result.

    The man’s heart beat did not return. Yet the rescuers continued.

    Seeing an opportunity for an on the job lesson, I looked around the room and pointed to the two newest members of the volunteer fire company.

    “Come here, you two need to take over for these two,” I directed.

    One of the firefighter’s said, “But I can’t remember how…”

    I cut him off mid-sentence, “I know, but I’ll talk you through it.”

    They both moved in and took over the breaths and chest compressions. I continued to direct of them.

    The radio crackled and the dispatcher said, “Your ambulance is less than two minute away.”

    “Ten-four,” I answered.

    Then I returned his attention to the new firefighters doing CPR, “I want you to stay right where you are, but switch roles.”

    They did as they were instructed.

    Upon the third compression something popped loudly. I was standing next to the bar at the victims head when it happened.

    The two rookies jumped up and away from the body, as did the others in the room. I hopped up on the bar and looked down, trying to figure out what had jus’ sprang out of the victims face.

    The room was silent, except for what sounded like a marble rolling across a linoleum tiled floor. Then I noticed the man’s face; his left eye socket was slightly sunken.

    The chest compressions were jus’ hard enough to cause a man’s glass eye to pop out.

    “Get that eye over there,” I directed one of the firefighters.

    “Not me! I ain’t touching that thing!” he exclaimed as he quickly exited the barroom.

    His hand was covering his mouth as he pushed his way passed other crewmembers, who stood transfixed on the little white object with the light blue dot. The two rookies moved back to their positions and continued CPR as I hopped down from the bar top.

    I walked over and picked up the glass eye jus’ as the ambulance crew came in the front door.

  • The Christmas Star

    This was originally written as a school play. It never made the cut so I turned it into a short story.

    “Oh, Mary, my dear wife,” said Joseph the Carpenter, “we shall rest here in this manger for there is no tavern open for us.”

    “It shall be alright,” Mary replied,” My worried Joseph, will be alright.”

    “I pray that it shall,” Joseph responded as he helped her down from the donkey and in the hay.

    “It is time,” Mary said as her breathing became labored.

    Joseph watched and helped as best he could while Mary gave birth to the baby named Jesus.

    Overhead a star shined brightly. It was brighter than any star ever seen. Then angels appeared. They whispered among themselves so as not to wake the newborn babe.

    Soon shepherds arrived at the stables entrance, walking on broken sandals. They said in unison, “We have heard of a King being born here.”

    Joseph just nodded his head and Mary warmly smiled as the three ragged shepherds walked up to the manger to gaze upon the sleeping baby Jesus. They smiled, then kneeled down and began to pray.

    Just as that happened, three Kings appeared at the stable’s entrance, asking about the baby. They asked in unison, “Is the child-King born upon this blessed morn?”

    Again Joseph nodded and Mary smiled as they walked up and looked into the manger at the baby.

    The first King said, “I have frankincense to offer.” He handed it to Mary for the baby and kneeled to pray.

    The second King said, “I give myrrh to him.” He gave it to Mary for Jesus. He kneeled and began to pray.

    The last King gave incense to the baby’s Mother and also started to pray. As the third King started to pray the Angels started to sing “O Come All Ye Faithful.”

    Without warning all the stage lights came on and the Director shouted, “Alright folks lets call it a night! Don’t forget tomorrow night is opening night!”

    Soon everyone was gone. Mary, Joseph, the shepherds, and the Kings. The little Baby Jesus and all the host of Angels in heaven were gone. The stage was in total silence. The props were put away except for the star. It still shined brightly.

    Someone had forgotten to turn it off…or was it something else?

  • The Forgotten Glasses

    While on a road trip,we stopped at a roadside restaurant for lunch.  After finishing our meal, we left the restaurant, and resumed our trip.

    When leaving, Mom unknowingly left her reading glasses on the table, and she didn’t miss them until they had been driving about forty minutes.  By then they had to travel quite a distance before they could find a place to turn around, in order to return to the restaurant to retrieve her glasses.

    Dad fussed and complained, and scolded Mom relentlessly during the entire return drive.  To Mom’s relief, they finally arrived at the restaurant.

    As she got out of the car, and hurried inside to retrieve her glasses, Dad yelled to her, “While you’re in there, you might as well get my hat and the credit card.”

  • Beautiful Dream

    (1997)

    I had a dream last night
    As I slept in my easy chair.
    It’s beauty filled with light
    A scent of pine in the air.

    I spoke with the Son of God,
    In this dream, I had in sleep.
    He schooled me in the way of sod,
    And the promise He worked to keep.

    He told me He loves the cowhand
    Tho’ they ain’t mentioned by name,
    With faces and necks all tanned,
    He loves us all jus’ the same.

    He show me how much He loves us
    By spreading his arms fingertip wide.
    I pushed back my hat to see Jesus,
    On the cross, exactly as He died.