Oklahoma

I admit that I was somewhat prideful as I was growing up when it came to Oklahoma ..and I also admit I am not really sure why. The Musical Oklahoma was a huge hit in the 50's ...and to have the place of your mothers birth immortalized in song was perhaps part of that ... The name Oklahoma comes from the Choctaw phrase okla humma, literally meaning red people. the fact that my Mother was part Cherokee may have also had a part in my pride . And at the same time the University of Oklahoma Sooners were on top of the football world . Guided by the Legendary Bud Wilkenson.

The last time I had been in Oklahoma was in 1960. I spent a summer there , Traveling by bus to Muldrow, and returning with my parents at the end of the Summer. That overland bud trip I suspect must have been partially responsible for my desire to wander about on the highways and byways of this country.

Writing about Oklahoma is complicated for me ...I have family there , dear sweet people ...Kin folk as they call themselves ...Hospitality is a given .. most of my Mothers family is still in the state , she was just one of a very few who escaped the gravity of the hard red clay , the blistering summer heat , and the bitter snows of winter.

As I pushed through the Texas Panhandle and entered Oklahoma ...driving down the dark ribbon of highway , alone in my van , alone in my relationship , looking for something I could not even conceive ... I was for the first time in my life utterly alone ...no friends , no family , no computer ...nothing to distract me from me ...It was a hard drive ...I needed to belong ..to be a part of something.

I realized that most of my life had been centered around me .. Friendship and relationships were for my benefit , not for the benefit of others ..for some 40 odd years I had place my needs , my wants , my ambitions and desires ahead of others . And as much as I would love to blame this current depression on my ex wife , the reality was I Had no one else to blame.

I know now that as I made that lonely drive , I was not really alone , though I had not called on His name He was there with me those long nights ... I just had not seen or heard Him yet

I am beaded

Today is my Birthday ..for some reason I feel melancholy . Its one thing squandering money ..you can always make more money , but squandering time ? that seems much different. Even in my most optimistic moments I realize there are far more years behind me , than I can imagine in front of me .

Lori woke me up today , with a big happy birthday and a kiss , a wonderful start to the day ! Its Friday and we both teach at a local Christian school . Lori , teaches theater and drama to grade school and middle school children , and speech to the High School kids. I teach Photography to High School and middle school . Lori and I also team teach the High School theater class. While at school my daughter called and wished me happy Birthday , Lori read to me the scores of Happy Birthday salutations on face book .

Twice today Lori had her class poke their heads in my classroom and wish me happy birthday. Lori is great with that sort of stuff , later today she has organized a get together with many of our friends at the local Steak and Shake . She also insisted I slip away for a little bit and visit one of our local parks that is Hosting an Native American Pow Wow .

Im just back from that event , I had hoped to catch some of the dancing , but that will be latter..I wandered around the grounds , listened to some " new " Native American music ..didn't like it much. Met an interesting man in one of the craft booths . Seems he had been to the Sisters Quilt show , and had some interesting stories about some of the people I found interesting in Sisters. Small world .

I left the pow wow and took a short trip into the woods neighboring the Pow Wow Grounds ...while chasing shadows and light in the forest I could hear the sound of Native American flute music in the distance ..I Liked that .

IN the parking lot I ran across one of the park rangers ..he thought I was trying to photograph some deer , looked a little puzzled when I told Him I was stalking light instead . He offered a suggestion , apparently not far from us there was an Oak tree that was struck by lightning a few months ago . He thought I might enjoy shooting that ...Gave me directions , but I could not find it . Found the light dancing on leaves instead .

That's the way it goes ....you seek one thing you find another . You think you are alone , and you find you have walked the same roads stared at the same people with another . YOU wake up to God's greatest gift for ,you singin happy birthday ..you teach others what you know , and you spend a few wonderful minutes with friends and Family reminding you the years aren't wasted , you have value in Him , and He is pleased to share it with others ...

I guess we are like a beaded basket , blowing in the wind ..waiting to be taken home . We have the appearance of being solid , but a carefully look shows us to be many parts , carefully put together , a work
of art in the Master Craftsman hands .

Guess when I think of all this I realize I am not so melancholy after all...the reality is I am a blessed man !

Travels with Chevy Van

By the Spring of 1995 I was pretty miserable. The separation from Karen and Kaisa ,a steady decline in the business ..loneliness I was worn down . My business crystal ball was not fully functioning and I assumed that eventualy because of my astute business brilliance the store would recover from the change in location.

Oh yes that year I had moved the location that had been so good for us . Partially because of a tenant dispute and also as a money saving idea.

The new location was a stand alone place a former church that had an upstairs loft that I Could maintain as a Living quarters . Still no shower or tub , but I was on shift at a Local Fire Department and had access to showers there.

Anyway some time during the Spring I got the idea to travel ,and travel a lot . Initially the plan was to be on the road for over six months and follow in the footsteps of John Steinbeck , with out the dog , and using a van instead .

I set a date of the day after Labour day as my departure date. During the Summer I Purchased a Chevy Van , removed the back seats , and turned it into a makeshift camper.

I had been spending a lot of time on AOL ...and had made several friends , most of them women and had set up several appointments with them . The deal was in return for Housing I would cook dinner. I had no idea what this really meant to some of the people I would be staying with , but I would learn later in the school of hard knocks .

Usually after a long day of sales and stocking shelves I would pour over the rand McNally Road trip software I had and work out my route . There were some places I Knew I want to visit for sure ...Los Angeles , San Diego , Albuquerque , Chicago , Dallas , Baton rouge , Montgomery Alabama , and Albany Georgia . were all pretty much definite on the list

I had my plans but God had His .

The Summer was no where near my expectations , in fact it was dismal , but I still managed to get a hefty down payment on a new Van ..planning to make up the difference with the Christmas Business and if Necessary the Next Summer. That Summer I had also decided to get a small apartment in a nearby town called Bend Oregon , and for the first time in my life I actually was living in a genuine apartment on my own . I bought new furniture , now art work , new dishes ..everything according to my taste ...it was kinda exciting ..but as time would show me it would have been better to spend all that money on Car Payments.

Anyway ..Summer came and went , I did make one good decision I decided to scale back the length of time I would be gone so I set out in Early September.

I had set up the van with a makeshift bed , I had a cooler , lantern , and a sleeping bag, cook stove , some pots and pans . MY plan was to camp out at night with the exception of the nights that I was given Hospitality ..I would drive till I got sleepy , and then head off again . I had thought I would have time to explore and enjoy the counry as I passed by . But I had not planned on the demons inside of me to so totally dominate my thoughts my sleep ...if I left anxious and excited I returned close to suicide , worn out even more lonely and dissatisfied with my life than I have ever been. The trip that was supposed to be my Journey of a lifetime , became an odyssey of despair and worry.

I had no idea of all this though as I waved goodbye to Sisters on that Tuesday morning and Headed South ...this should have been my first clue ...My original plan was to head East , but inexplicably ..I found my self heading south on 97 ... through the Central Oregon desert , and the burned out hulks of lodge pole pine devastated by disease and fire .

IT had been a bad fire season , the smell of burned forest in the air ...the face of Central Oregon was scarred and changed .... That spring grass would return , new growth and rebirth ....Out of the window I raced South , marking the stting sun in the passenger window .

Memories , long roads and dark nights

Its not unusual for Lori and I to spend hours trying to fit in al the things we have done in our lives together in the time we know we have been together. Seven trips to Richmond Indiana , two trips to the smokes , one vacation to San Francisco , Four or is it five trips to Oregon ? ...When was that time I stepped in dog mess on the Sunset Highway ? What year was it Kiasa came to visit here in Nashville ? What visit did Lee and Corrine get married in , which time did we visit the Grand ole Opry ...the list is seemingly endless ...so many events and seemingly so little time to compress them into .

And then there are those years before we met ...all the way back to the first year I was in kindergarten ...Or was it the second ? Failing Kindergarten is not something to put on you resume , but I think I can put it on mine . But I am getting ahead of myself here .

Anyway , last night Lori and I went out for Sushi , a rare treat lately as we try to save money for an upcoming Oregon Beach trip. ON the way to the restaurant I was trying to put the pieces together of these trips that I have been witting about . the problem is they don't seem to fit .

Between the day when Karen asked me to move out , till the day I met Lori ..I had managed to get in four trips to Southern California and Two trips to Oklahoma , As best as I can remember this the dates fall between Early fall of 1994 and early spring of 1996.
There is something about the monotony of driving espicially in the evening that helps me try to sort all these dates into some meaningful folders in my mind .
I sort them out , then neglect to write them down. The trip south out of Los Angeles may have been several months later than I first thought .
I spent about a week in San Diego , I do remember celebrating my Birthday at Dicks Last Resort in the Gas Light area. I enjoyed my visit with Cathi , she provided me with great guide service in San Diego, and some good words of advice about Gods Wisdom, words which made sense but still left me unconvinced that I should accept Christ. The visit with my Cousins in Selma had created an urge to head East . East meant connecting with 1-40 , a thin ribbon of road that leads East from Barstow California . Slips Northeast toward Flagstaff , then heads almost due East past Albuquerque , Amarillo , Oklahoma City, and then as it almost leaves the Sooner State you find yourself in Muldrow Oklahoma. As I crept into the Hills Just east of LA once again I started to think more about my childhood , early roots and screen windows.
I know this much , I was born in Denver Colorado , at the time my parents lived in a mining town called Climax Colorado , it is true I was conceived in Climax. The mine was an open pit mine and the ore being extracted was Molylibdium , a metal used mostly for Jet aircraft because of its strength and lightness ..I am reasonably certain that my Father worked on the sides of the pit , placing explosive charges into the earth. Probably suspended by thin cables and dangling several hundred feet in the air.
I vaguely remember my parents telling me of that Winter in Colorado with snow literally piled over the house we live in. The snow and the cold was probably why Mom and Dad considered moving to Portland , which they did within 19 months because that is when my brother was born in Portland Oregon ...I am not sure if he was conceived in Climax or not , and that is one question I probably would not want to ask Aunt Alice.
When we moved to Portland we lived in Sellwood , a small suburb south of Downtown Portland, and about three blocks from my fathers Parents. Elizabeth and Herman Sitlger. Herman was an immigrant from Germany and work for the Blitz Brewery in Portland , Elizabeth an immigrant from England. My best recollections of Elizabeth was of her crocheting and making coffee.
My mothers home was far away in Muldrow Oklahoma , her Father was Native American , and her Mother was an Irish Immigrant. In those days there was little talk of " Illegal immigrants " and more talk about the sins of the Native Americans . so when my Mothers Father " registered " with the US Government he fibbed and said He was 1/2 native. So now legally I am 1/8th .
My first recollection /Memory of life was living in Sellwood , this Memory is more like a composite of many memories , and is more likened to the debris at the bottom of a large cliff where deposits are all mixed together giving no indication of Chronology.
I remember a babysitter who lived across the street , neighbors who become famous when they got the first TV in the block and we would go over to vist and take a look at the new device. I remember my brother and I shared a room and I had the top bunk until it was determined that my bed wetting was making his life difficult , so I ended up with the bottom bunk.
At first I was troubled by this but two great benefits soon extended themselves to me. The first was I found that by tucking a sheet or blanket into the top bunk I could make myself a private cave ..a cave that was my own private and personal fortress. and that my being on the bottom bunk gave me ready access to the bedroom window that afforded me an opportunity to relive myself with out hiking downstairs to the bathroom.
The screen in front of the window was no obstacle to me but I do remember a slight changing of color that soon gave me away , that and the fact that one night I urinated on my father who was taking out the garbage. MY father was understanding and only used his hand on my bare butt and not the belt , something that at the time I was unable to appreciate the grace involved.
We lived in that house until I was six years old ...I went to Kindergarten early , and I must have had some problems because the next year when we moved ..I repeated Kindergarten ...I am not sure if you can say that life is up hill or down hill after you fail kindergarten , but somehow I survived ...my only memory of my first school experience is accidental hitting a girl with a jumping rope and then being so frightened , and scared of the sure and swift punishment I hid behind a tree until the class went back into the school , then I waited until school was out and pretended I had been in class when my mother walked down to pick me up. I am sure that in time the realization that my class had spent the rest of the day not missing me had some profound effect on my life , but I am not sure at this time what it was.
There was a park not far from where we lived ( Sellwood Park ) and my mother would take my brother and I there , and she would lay out a blanket and watch us as we played on the swings , and teeter toter . I have a picture I took of this place a few years ago and I swear that the teeter totter boards look like the originals we played on.
It was there that I first realized how much I could torment my brother , I would spin him so fast on the playground merry go ground that he was no longer merry , I would raise him far up on the teeter totter then let him fall to the ground ..all this seemed to accomplish two things , one he lived in fear of me , and two I learned to live in fear of my fathers belt when he heard about behavior when he came home.
It was at a very early age that I learned there were consequences to my actions , but learning that and stopping them seemed like light years apart ...I knew from a very early age what I should do , and what I should not do , but I was compelled and driven to do the opposite.
As my sixth year was winding down , I became aware that plans were being made to move away from this paradise ...boxes were packed , furniture stacked , and we moved to a Suburb of Portland on the west side called Multnomah..the new house was smaller , there was no upstairs ( this is fallout from peeing on your father ). but it had a garage , and a very large lot and an extra lot as well ...there was room to roam and explore and still be close to home. There were adventures to be had , friends to make and books to open , and it all lay ahead of me ...

ON the Road again ..the other side of Life

Four hours later I arrived in Selma ...that drive gave me a lot of time to meander down the pathways of my childhood and nibble away at the edges of my memory of life after High School life after High School . MY Anut Loy was fun to talk to , we shared some Ice tea and some conversation about when the Family had come to visit back in the 50's ...I spent some time with one of my cousins , and declined hospitality to spend the night , instead late at night I headed back out , moving my car closer to Los Angeles.
I would be there very late, but I would miss the traffic. The conversation with my cousin had really started me thinking. I went back to the thought about our lives being a tapestry, and I was realizing there is not much difference between a net and a tapestry, and the difference between them. I wondered how many people were caught in nets of their own. When we enter life, we are a part of someone’s work - the life we weave is a part of a larger work and often just our past traps us before we even have a chance to start our own work. Nancy had grown up in Selma; a child of Dust Bowl evacuees, her entire world had been formed around a hub of grape farming. She had inherited her mother’s smile, her father’s laugh and her family’s religion.

I must admit that this has been a huge stumbling block in my Christian life. It has always seemed to me that Christianity does have a cultural component to it, that many people who are Christians in the United States would be Muslim if they were born in Iraq. It has always seemed to me that there are loving and gentle people of good heart who are associated with most of the world faiths, and there are people who love to condemn others in most faiths as well.

Well, the drive from Selma to Los Angeles takes abut three hours, and I was up and over the Grapevine by 2 a.m. I had an urge to Cruise Sunset Blvd. I grew up with television, and Sunset Strip was one of those great icons of my youth. I have seen so many car chases down Sunset Blvd., I knew I would be no stranger there.

Soon I saw an exit that proclaimed Sunset Blvd /Hollywood, and I took it - and for a little bit, I did feel I was in the wrong place. This road of my teenage dreams wound unimpressively through a residential neighborhood, then squeezed past UCLA. I craned my neck, looking for the famous coeds, but none appeared. I drove past the Hotel California, past the famous neighborhoods of star worship - but I saw very few people or cars. Then I surged out of Beverly Hills and into the Sunset Blvd. of my remembrance. It’s not difficult to find temptation on the Strip, and everywhere I looked there were girls: some quietly and some sheepishly offering themselves for sale to the men and boys who flitted like fruit flies on the Strip and the intersecting roads. I saw lots of police, but they seemed hopelessly outnumbered. The words of the Paul Simon song, The Boxer, found their way into my mind: “There were times when I was so lonely that I took some comfort there,” and I wondered what drove the men to circle and the women to offer themselves up to strangers with such ease. I thought, “Somewhere there is a wife sleeping, comfortably unaware; and someplace else, a girlfriend fretting. Somewhere, a family room with a picture of a pert young girl with a flawless complexion looking out over the mantle. How many faces did I see that where in some living room in a distant land, framed with love and remembered in adoration? I wonder how long it takes for a policeman on this beat to lose faith with his or her fellowman, and distill all of us into a caricature of these evening immigrants. They are explorers and inhabitants of a world that borders Suburbia. Sedans and station wagons replace covered wagons and sailing ships - but there is only bitter harvest here. No minerals, no lumber - only broken dreams and passionless passion. I’m sure both seller and customer each will bear the marks of the blows that cut them down. I admit that I was fascinated by this swarm of people – the furtive looks, the outlandish appearance, the men in cars darting from lane to lane. Police with stoic understanding, stopping, questioning. Lights glimmering neon; proclaiming billboards elbowing each other; while in another world, not too far away, families slept and college students worked into the late hours forming paragraphs about social justice and world change. I suspect every major city has their Sunset Strip. It’s always a place on the “other side of the tracks,” just outside our understanding - but close enough to point at. I think each of us has our own Strip as well; it’s a place were we can occasionally blur the line between right and wrong. It’s also a place we can easily recognize in others. And just as it seems that those of us in Portland and Sacramento like to point toward Sunset Blvd. and Times Square, in our own home towns there are streets that slither through the gardens we have built.

I wanted to see Grumen’s Chinese Theater before I left, and I finally found it a few blocks away on Hollywood Blvd. The sun was coming up; the tops of the buildings were soaking in the light. There was a relay going on, and the people of the night were handing the baton over to the people of the morning. The bus stops were filling up with tired-looking people, most of them Hispanic or black, and most seemed to be headed into the richer neighborhoods of Beverly Hills and Belair. I suspect these were the domestics, the ones who mowed the neatly landscaped yards, who tended the dogs and washed the cars and a thousand other menial jobs. Some of these people stared at me with fierce pride, but most simply seemed to be asleep on their feet , thinking of the last moment of love’s embrace or of bills to be paid .

I pulled into a Denny’s for a cup of coffee and a quick breakfast. I know I must have had a book with me; if I eat alone, I have to have something to read with me. I’m sure there is something Freudian about that, but I think I will save the money on the exam and use it to buy more books. I was probably in Denny’s for about an hour, and when I came out I saw a new crowd taking the baton. These were the secretaries and the young executives, some at the bus stops and some in their own cars, filling up the Strip once again. As I looked at these people, I saw some staring back defiantly and others asleep, thinking of last moments of love’s embrace or bills to be paid.


My next stop was Chula Vista, just South of San Diego. There was a dear online friend I planned to visit there; her screen name was Quietedone, and her real name was Cathi.

Mom at Home

I do not know very much at all about my Mother and fathers Courtship . I do know that as were growing up , there were very few signs of Public affection between them , A hug and a kiss when dad came home from work , an occasional hug was as much as would see . I Knew some how instinctively that they loved each other , and loved each other deeply . Dad had no interests in other women , and Mother had only one man in her life ..when my father passed in 1974 , my mother never remarried , she missed him deeply for the next 26 years ..she never indicated to me she wanted to remarry , John , or Johnny as she called him was her one true love .

Dad was the visible one in our family , out front , the joker , the kidder , the one most inclined to be the life of the party . Mom was more than content to be by his side , a smirk followed by a smile an occasional right Jab when needed.

Once married Mom never worked outside the home , inside the home she was tireless. laundry , cleaning , cooking , gardening , shopping , help with homework and tutoring . Laundry was the real chore , we had an Agitator style washer in those early years , Mom hung the clothes out to dry either outside on the sunny days or in the basement during the rain.

Outside we had a impressive vegetable garden .Mom loved cucumbers and tomatoes , Compost from shredded trees my father cut down for Portland general electric , and fresh manure from Alpennrose dairy, provided necessary nutrition to the soil . We also had onions, radish , and green peppers . Salads were a big hit in our home. Most of our meals had meat involved , we had very little fish with the exception of smelt and the occasional Salmon, Meat was usually venison or Elk , my dad was a very good hunter in season and out . My mother would slice and fry potatoes to go with the meal , occasionally they would be boiled and mashed. Desert was either some baked goods or Jello, we ate a lot of Jello in those days . Plain , with fruit and with carrots . After dinner it was time for homework .

MY mother barely made it out of grade school , yet she had a great deal of respect for education . Some of my earliest memories are of her holding " flash " cards in front of us encouraging us with Math and sentence structure. She enjoyed Soap operas on TV her favourite was as the World turns ...she loved that show , but would gladly give it up for me when I stayed home sick from school so I could watch our miss brooks , or the Gail Storm show , often we would sit ont he couch and watch Perry mason together . and at night after Dad had gone to bed we would sit under a blanket on the couch eating stove top popcorn and watching Armchair Theater.


'Food shopping was family affair all four of us would pile int he care and we would go to the Fred Meyer store in Burlingame . a suburb of Portland . There Bob and i would be left in front of the Comic Book stand , where we would ravenousnessly read the latest DC and Marvel comics ,then Dad and mom would appear with these plastic numbers in their hands , we would go out to the car fix them unto the windshield then drive the car to the Store where , young men would place our Groceries in the car .

Clothes shopping was Mom , Bob and me . Mom did not drive a car , she never leaned that art and show very little interest in doing so . There were no clothing stores in the suburbs , we had to go downtown , which meant taking a bus . Public Transportation was very good in Portland those days . so Good I took it for granted . We would head off ot down town where we would end up at the trail ways bus station just a few blocks from our prime destination Meirer and Frank Department store . Staring on the fist floor then up to the fourth floor in an Elevator with a uniformed Elevator man handling the buttons . then a decent into the lower regions of the Department store and the " bargain " basement where we spent most of our time and money . Sometimes we would get separated , but we always knew to meet on the first floor by the Clock. the rallying point for scores of separated children from their parents which also happened to be adjacent to the candy Department

The First Floor of the Department store had a hardwood floor , the wood seemed to soak up the smells from the Candy department in the corner ,Popcorn ,Carmel Corn , fresh roast nuts , sweets and chocolates all available by the pound ...As tempting as these were , we would usually leave the store ..and cross to the Kress store across the street , where the candy and confections were cheaper.
Tired and foot sore we would all walk back up the bus station and take one of three buses headed back into our neighborhood hoping for the Capital Highway bus which would deposit us a mere two blocks from our home ...the Garden Home Metzger bus would leave us in downtown Multnomah a another Portland Suburb about 5 blocks from our home.
Kindergarten When we arrived home we had either fresh baked cookies or cupcakes waiting for us . For a few hours we would play in the yard or in our room during the occasional wet Northwest weather. In a very short period of time after we arrived home the scent of fresh backed goods would be overcome by the stronger smells of meat frying in the cast Iron pots and Potatoes frying next to them . Time for Dad to come home

Out of the Dust ..Moving West

I have a photo of my Mother on the wall in our den. She looks young ..probably in her twenties . Dark curly hair , eyes looking ahead , not at the camerman , but distant , but with purpose. Her mouth is slightly open as if she is saying " ok whats next ? " .

Life came at her hard .her own mother died early , Mom was the oldest girl , and by all acounts she took over the mother duties when her mother passed. Her father remarried , but what might have been a happy ending , turned tragic , when her stepmother gave birth to a severely handicapped child. The step mother abandoned all pretext of carring for her four step children , to the point of being abusive. The Step Children were parceled out to different relatives , all living marginally in poverty ridden Indian territory.


The Depression , racial prejudice , climate , all contributed to the living conditions . 1930 in the plains were dark days . Thousands of people had left Oklahoma , driven out by the economy and the frequest dust storms that lterally blotted out the sky. Dust so thick that newspapers frequently told of mass deaths of birds and rabbits who were unable to find shelter from the storm. The dust was a silent killer adding to respiratory deaths and tuburculous. No crops meant no food ...no food meant no hope.

It is no mystery why so many left the state looking for better pastures. Initially States like Oregon and California welcomed the refugees , but as the Westward Migration became a flood the doors were shut . State police in California waited on the Border , turning away any one who had no money.

What is a mystry is why so many stayed behind . Only a very small portion of my Mothers family Left Oklahoma , somehow against this dreary landscape they managed to survive , forming close bonds of family and holding onto the promise of better days ahead through a harden faith in God , forged in small town churches ..with tattered pictures of Jesus on the wall , and hymns ground out on dusty pianos for the affluent churchs and barely strung guitars for the poorer ones .

I do not know very much at all about this time in my mothers life ... I do know that in the 1940's she went west on a Greyhound bus ..a Journey that must have taken courage and resolve , ad difficult s times were as hard as her life was it was the life she knew and it would be replaced by a new state , and new vocation and ultimatly a new relationship.

Changing Directions

It was early morning when I was in Weed at the gas station, the cold air kept me awake and I turned left just out of Weed onto Interstate 5 ...heading south..its a downhill ride from Weed and soon the temperature was warming , there was no evidence of the sun rising , a few hours and I was getting tired ... I stopped and found a place in Redding California to sleep ..I like sleeping in a car , it feels safe and cave like ...when you wake up you simply tilt your seat up and go ... As I went to sleep then for the next several hours I started thinking , really thinking about the turns and twists of my life ...when I remove myself from all the distractions of life I start thinking about me. Selfish perhaps, but there are some times when you look back, you know how it is ...one day you are six years old , you are chasing dandelions during the day and throwing tantrums when you are told to go to bed ...you feel the first startling twinges of independence , and every thing is new ...so much new you simply can't take it all in , so your mind stores up memories which come flooding back to you when you least expect it. I started to think about my life in terms of memorable periods ...The early years from six to twelve , High School years , Sandy and the serious dating years , First marriage and college , Divorce , college , Student Body President , All Night Cast parties ,Diana , Karen , And my Daughter Kaisa , Store in Sisters , being a volunteer fireman , so many memories . It was like one of those beach cabin Jigsaw puzzles and like them there were some pieces missing ...somewhere around Redding California I made one of those decisions that would seemingly alter the course of my life ..without realizing It I went from driving for the sake of my pleasure to , driving for the sake examining what my life meant , what was my purpose and how did it all seem to come down to this , a lony middle aged man in a beat up car driving relentlessly down 1-5 with no apparent destination.
I did something childlike ..I called my Mother ..I had some questions and I think I was ready to hear the answers .
I wanted to know more about her and more about how she and my father came to know each other , we talked for a while on the phone , oblivious to the roaming charges I Must have racked up a hundred dollar bill on that early Morning conversation. My Mother reminded me that I was not far from some of Her family that had settled in Selma California . They owned land and had harvested Grapes for Sunmaid raisins , fleeing Oklahoma in the dust bowl years they were a part of that great group of Immigrants who settled in Californian in the 1930's ...they were Oakies , and I decided it was time to revisit some of my Kin Folk.

Road Trip

ROAD TRIP
Most business have cycles , in Sisters Oregon , the months of January and February are very slow , we would get a little surge on the weekends , and a nice bump on Presidents day weekend ..but other than that it was very very slow. Having survived Christmas , and having done better than I suspected. I looked at the money situation , I was able to pay another months Rent on the store the mortgage on the home that my wife and child lived in , I seemed alittle ahead , and the bills I should be paying seemed much smaller than those big bills and I could make them up during Spring break..so I did the only responsible thing for a financially irresponsible person, ROAD TRIP....
The Datsun which before seemed like it could barely make it to the Pioneer Market , now was perfectly suited to making a 3000 mile journey to California , How it made this change I don't know , it might of been the sun striking it on the dusty hood just right , or the little bit of rubber I managed to lay down when I peeled out in front of a speeding Log Truck , because I couldn't wait 5 seconds longer to get in on the wseeklong sale of frozen dinners at the Market ...no matter what, the car now looked fit to head South.
Sisters Oregon is near Highway 97 which is a North South route which pierces the High desert plateau of Oregon and somewhere near Shasta Mountain connects with the big asphalt river ..Interstate 5 , the drive takes you along side of the Cascade Mountains sitting on your right hand side ..the tall peaks were snow covered and at some place I would cross them , but far enough south that snow should not be a factor.
A journey of that length demands some careful planning ...I got the idea to go south around six pm on January 2nd, made a few calls to my employees, and by seven PM I was packing the car ... I decided against maps because well I knew which direction South was , and I just threw in the few clothes I had with me at the time , considered putting a Frozen dinner on the engine to thaw as I drove , but decided against it ..probably the wisest choice I made in those few hours of planning.
My first stop was in Bend Oregon where I filled up the tank , and provisioned myself with ample Coca Cola , Coffee, Beef Jerky and a few Snickers bars ...my philosophy on road trips is travel light and don't stop expect for bathroom and gas breaks. As I left Bend it was very late , the roads were snow covered , My snow tires would be sufficnent and would soon be clacking away on the Southern California Streets.
I had no real reason to head south , I wanted to meet an Online friend in San Diego , I needed to clear my head , take some time for me , I was concerned that Beverly and I were getting too personal and too close , I just wanted to go somewhere else ...I wanted an adventure , or escape ...
As I headed south I realized it might be a good time to decide where to stay along the way ... In the morning I would call my Mother and get phone numbers of my cousins that lived near Fresno California and at least stay there the next night , for this evening all I planned was to just keep driving . Five hours later I was in Weed California ..looking for a gas station , behind huge bearms of snow ..
in Oregon you do not pump your gas , there are attendants who actually do that for you ...California forces you to pump your own gas, and this required understanding the pumping mechanism which I discovered later was different with each pump. I didn't realize this at first , instead I waited in my car for the attendent to come out and pump my gas. I could see the attendent but he seemed to have no interest in comming out he was chewing on adonut adn c=kept looking out at me , but made no movement to the door. finally i forced open the car door , which has been frozen shut by road slurry .. I slipped across the icy parking lot , and politly asked if the pumps were oppend. The guy with the donut in his mouth mutterd "yeth" I looked quizzically at him trying to nicely say " well I need gas " when it suddenly dawned on him and me there was something wrong ...After a few moments of awkward silence the donut chwer swallond and said ..this is a self pump station ...and suddenly that light went on and I heard myself say " you mean self ? as in I pump it myself ?" Now I remembered so I gave the guy a sheepish look and tramped out to fill up my car I tried to pump but nothing happened , I was standing out in sub freezing weather with a thin shirt on and I needed to pee , I was squeezing as hard as I could for gas and other reasons , and nothing was coming out ! well nothing I wanted to come out ..I was doing this little dance trying to forget that really insistent feeling and alsotrying to pry my fingers off the frozen nozzle so I could go back in the gas station and find out what I had overlooked . Back in the Gas station the attendant has plugged his mouth with a maple bar I asked him for help and he said " how muth " " I don't know" I need a fill up ..." you have to pay futh " he saids ...now my mind was racing at the speed of discomfort and I realized that I needed to pay in advance , but how much should I pay .. if I paid too little I would just have to do this all over again , sooner, if I paid to much I would have just tipped the guy with maple frosting smeared over his chin, I reached in my pocket ..shoved a twenty dollar bill on the counter and walked out to the car ...then it hit me I had forgot to pee...there are times that life can overwhelm you ..I had already paid for the gas , that pump was sitting there like a ripe melon , anyone could use my paid for gas if I raced back into the Gas station , yet there was no denying the insistant cramps that where now making my entire body convulse ..I had no choice I had to find the bathroom and I had to trust that no serial gasoline thief would be watching this from a distant perch on a snow berm ...I went back in to the Gas Station , the attended was chugging chocolate milk from a carton ... " bathroom" I squeaked out ... " in back" he said with a mouth filled with uneated maple bar and chocolate milk...I squirmed out the door choose right , should have choose left when I arrived , the door was locked ...I just about crawled back the the Gas Station , I Looked the guy full in the eye and noticed he was having a Snickers bar he said " you need a key " ..He handed me a key which was attached to a Car license plate which was in turn teathered to a 40 foot chain wrapped around a beer cooler ...at least it seemed that way ..and again I struggled out the door turned left and entered the bathroom, I should have got a clue when I noticed that the Bathroom also doubled as the Ice storage locker ...it was cold very cold , so cold you would want to go out side to warm up ...It was four AM and I just left the door open ... sometimes you just have to go native .

The Letter

New friend on AOL Part 2
The letter was friendly and warm , Beverly said based on our IM conversation she had already figured out I was not as young as I said I was , she also indicated she might be a little older as well , she was gracious and understanding and her letter was filled with grace and forgivness ..all of which I soaked up like a cheap paper towel soaks up spilled coke ...For the next several weeks Beverly carried on an ongoing conversation , sharing our dreams , our desires and our failures , after we got the age thing sorted out we realized we were very close to the same age , I was going through a divorce and she was contemplating one ..she had two grown children both heading off to college and a husband who as she explained it was very demanding , overbearing , non communicative.
We both realized that in another place and in another time we might have had a go at each other and based on the openess of our Compter conversations we realized that in fact we might make a very good go of it , but several thousand miles apart , and more hurdles than you find on a High School Practice field we were mature enough to understand having a go would have to pass ... I was hurtling toward the holidays , and I had started to dread them ...Thanksgiving would be the first holiday alone for me in some time ...Since the day after Thanksgiving is a huge shopping day I couldn't leave the area , so I planned to dine in alone and try one of the Marie Calanders Turky Dinners , spend some time on AOL , and putter around the store getting ready for the next day...I called my mother , wished her Happy Thanksgiving and called my Daughter and wished her the same ...Karen and Kaisa were spending Thanksgiving in Portland with her parfents.
AOL was kinda quiet with most of the people even the lonely ones having a brief interlude with real people ...the Frozen dinner was ok , just seemed odd eating your thanksgiving feast off of an aluminium plate ...somehow the meaning and vibe of Thanksgiving was lost , it became just a quiet day with little human contact , the local grocery store was closed , the tavern was closed and as the snow piled up it was a possibility that the mountain passes would be closed as well , meaning a poor sales day and even more worries ...somehow I stumbled into sleep late into the night or early into the day , not sure which.
All the days between Thanksgiving and Christmas became a blurr , buisness was doing ok , not great but better than expected considering the weather and my all nighters on AOL ...about this time I got my first bill from AOL ...I am not sure of the exact amount ..but I remember it was over $600.00...and that was the month woth all my free minutes ...I was a little shocked but so addicted to the chat rooms that I knew I was just going to have to find a way to keep online...bottle collecting, selling blood or other fluids , a host of ideas some good most bad ...
What I feared most about Christmas was simply being alone ...I needed to keep the store opened and I couldn't drive to Portland to be with my Mother , my brother lives even further away, Kaisa would be gone to Portland , and no one had offerd to take me in on Christmas ...partially because I was letting everyone know just how miserable I was and while they understood I am sure they wanted no part of my cynical , crankyt whiney , self to darkend their Holiday ...so as I watched Christmas sneak up on me I planned , and I hoped I had planned well
I had planned the next two days very well. I had food and treats and a new book to read, and several videos - all designed to keep my mind off what my mind was really on. I was lonely and I was desperately sad and I was not even sure if I would make it through the next two days.

I fixed dinner - roast beef with baby reds - and decided to pick up my mail from Beverly. I knew it was there; she had sent both letters earlier, and had marked them Do not read till Christmas Eve, and day. I opened Christmas Eve’s; it was a wonderful letter, heartwarming and encouraging. It ended with this exercise: Beverly asked me to describe myself in ONE word and then write why I chose that word. Looking back, I think this simple exercise was a gift from God. It helped me focus and helped me to take a good look at myself; after discarding COMPLEX, LONELY, and many others, I settled on TAPESTRY. I realized my life was a tapestry, woven together with the threads of many people. This is an image has never left me. Our lives are a measure of not only what we contribute to our work of art, but what others add to it also. Some of our tapestries are vibrant with dazzling contributions from ourselves and others. Some of our tapestries are bland from lack of color.

While working on my homework from Beverly, just on a lark I started exploring AOL. That’s when I found the Religious and Ethics Forum. This area was a multi-faith chat and message board area. I started to look at the message boards, and was amazed at the diversity of thought and, unfortunately, intelligence. The boards seemed to be dominated by far right Christian types, and it was not long before I was entering the cyber fray.

A New Friend on AOL
It did not take me very long to lose interest in the chat rooms, but before I slipped totally away, I did meet a person who would become one of my very best friends and confidants. It happened this way: One night I was in my favorite chat room when I got IM’d. An IM is short for instant message. What happens is you can actually talk to someone in private with others knowing. I believe the IM is the greatest invention of online chat; it makes it possible for more “honest” friendships to occur, and keeps the level of tension at a minimum in the rooms because you can vent through IMs. Anyway, I was minding my own business; my screen name was Scott for Hugs, and I got this IM.

BEVERLY: Is this the Line for Hugs???

SCOTT: Well it’s a very short line

BEVERLY: that’s because I pushed them out of the way...




Beverly and I had a thoroughly engaging conversation. To me, it was clear immediately that THIS was a person I wanted to know more about. The problem was I had gotten off to a bad start. You see, I had panicked and had adjusted my age slightly; instead of 48, I had told her my age was 24. Now, I do believe that a few years are simply trivial to God, and very early into the conversation I managed to come clean and tell her I was really 27 (sometimes coming clean requires lots of scrubbing). After our initial conversation, this slight misrepresentation of my age began to gnaw on me. I realized that this was a person who could become my friend for life, and I had started our friendship by lying to her. She, on the other hand, had cleverly avoided how old she was; women can be so sneaky. I decided at that moment that, from that moment forward until the end of all recorded time, I would never be anything else than what I really am when I am talking online, and except for one brief angry moment when I posed as a Christian Cowboy called Stud for God I have been true to that promise.
All this is very nice in theory but here I was left with the reality that I misrepresented my real age to a person who I really wanted to know better ...and in knowing that person better eventually it would become obvious I was not 27 as I told her ...but much much older ...at least old enough in what might be one of the few brillant ephanies I can lay claim to ...choose to do the unimaginable ...I Immeaditaly emailed Beverly and told her the truth...Not only did I tell her but I begged for her forgivness and understanding. Then I waited for her to reply to my Email ...and waited , and waited ...I beleive I was at first concerned that she did not write me right off , then I was concerned that it was my Computer not working properly so I wrote myself an email , which I got then I wrote me back which I got again..It was nice having someone to write too and for a moment I forgot what I was really interested in , then when I checked for the email which wasn't there I admitt I got a little cranky , after all why wasn't this lady whom I had just had a wonderful conversation with , who must right now be racing back and fort to her computer to see if the dashing young man of 27 had written her back ...writting me back ..well the reason was obvious ..I had fibbed ...twisted the truth alitte bit ..
and Beverly had no more use for me than a tripod without a camera ..than a Bottled bear with out a bottle opener ( although since this was writted the twist top bottle cap was invented , heloing as it were to build up the wrist and tendons of frequent drinkers ) .
As I waited for the Email reply it was becomming obvious that my short lived relationship with this woman was , very short lived ...the wait became unbearable , beads of sweat appeared on my forhead , no easy task in the Winter weather of the Cascade town I lived in which was now buried in snow ...the minutes ticked by , the wait crushed my psyche , like a dead whale could crush a rose ..after the first five minutes ticked off the clock on the wall I was in total despair ...after ten minutes I was wondering if you could take an overdose of Marie Calander pot pies and end it all ...then as I pounded on the keys to check the mail for the umpteenth time there it was ..the reply from Beverly ...I took a deep breath , with trembling fingers I clicked on the Email ..and ...the computer crashed .
In the early days of AOL this was not unusual , being bumped off AOL was as common as being overcharged for frozen dinners ...it didn't last long , usually required rebooting the computer ..waiting a few minutes then starting over again, but when your whole life hangs in the balance , when every nuron, muscle , and fiber in your body is aching from the unkown ..then rebooting takes much longer ....much longer ...finally I was ready to read the letter ...

Meeting a stranger when you are strange

In his play, Our Town , Thornton Wilder comments that in this life people are meant to through life two by two . God created woman for Adam ..and blessed them, Much of our life is spent in search of relationships ..and sometimes we do it with so much zeal and passion we seem unaware that God is seeking us ...In the early winter of 1995 nursing my bruised ego and missing companionship I found myself making a date to meet a woman I had never seen but had chatted with on the Internet in a town several miles to the west, a drive that took me over the Santiam pass and through the remainder of a recent snow storm.
People who have never been online see any online activity as a perversion at worse, and a silliness at best – while meeting a woman in the appropriate manner (In Sisters this involved getting drunk and having her drive you home) the idea that you might actually meet someone you have never even seen was considered flat-out foolishness. It kind of bothered me that my “friends” were more concerned about this part of the meeting than even venturing a, “You’re a damn fool for trying to drive that piece of crap over the mountain.” The piece of crap being my Aging Datsun .The I suspect if I were driving that piece of crap to the local saloon, they might have mentioned that to me. They were triaging the whole thing and, as friends, I suspect they had my best interest at heart. And as friends, I could count on them to tell everyone in the town what a fool I was.

I was not going to be dissuaded, so I loaded up the Datsun and headed out .It was my plan to check into a motel and freshen up before I met this woman who would suddenly fall for me like a ripe coconut. Although a few more erotic fantasies slipped passed my moral sensors, I sincerely had no plan to use this room for anything but a staging place. Dinner was to be at 8 and, in an effort to be punctual, I arrived at the Motel at 4pm. The drive was more or less uneventful; only twice did I see fear on the faces of the drivers of oncoming cars as I slid and careened my way over the mountain pass.
While some may think that arriving 4 hours early may be a bit eccentric, for me it’s normal. I hate to be late; I will leave early from places so that I won’t be late for the next engagement. But that’s another story.…

So, with four hours to go I did the responsible thing: I panicked !!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I mean, I suddenly thought, “Hey, my friends might be right! This person might be a homicidal maniac! She could be an IRS agent - or she might even be a HE!!!!” Believe there is nothing on cable TV that can prepare you for a moment like this. Nothing – zilch! I thought I would use up some time taking a shower, but the water ran cold after fifteen minutes - I was on a budget you realize. So I shaved, and shaved and shaved. I prepared as well as I could, and still had about 3½ hours left. I pulled out a book to read; it was about some true life horrific murder and it helped put my mind at ease. I watched the digital clock click away. Fifteen minutes later, I had still 3 hours and fifteen minutes left to go. Another responsible reaction: I shaved again and checked my deodorant (you can never be too careful about deodorant these days, especially if you’re going to meet a homicidal murderer who can smell fear a hundred yards away). Then I cleaned my fingernails, thinking that if I did turn up dead that maybe that would help some fledgling forensic assistant to better find out the identity of the mysterious woman.
I checked my pants and my shirt, I adjusted my belt, and thought about shaving again and I debated on when to put on my cologne: too soon and it would have no affect, too late and it might be overpowering. These are important decisions and, if nothing else, good reasons to be four hours early. Decisions should not be made in haste; I suspect that decisions also should not be made while in a strange motel room lying in your underwear while reading a book on a homicidal manic, while waiting to visit a stranger. By the way, I was lying in my underwear so as not to wrinkle my pants. If I would have sincerely thought I was going to get “lucky,” I would have laid nude so as not to wrinkle my underwear.
Well I could keep you on the edge of suspense and prolong this part; the thought of millions of readers caught up in the whirlwind of suspense, waiting to see if I get lucky at Denny’s almost makes me cry. It’s great to be an American!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Soon the hours had drizzled into minutes (in Oregon, we use rain metaphors a lot), and it was time to go.

And time for my next panic attack: I DIDN’T KNOW WHERE DENNY’S WAS!

I had totally forgotten to locate it. Now I knew that, after arriving four hours early, I might possibly end up being late. A scenario flashed in front of me: The woman who would soon bear my children was going to walk into Denny’s and meet another man - taller, with more hair, and younger.
I would be left eating alone in a booth, trying to decide on a nature burger or a Swiss cheese sandwich. Life, at times, is simply not fair. As luck would have it, as I was in a mild state of despair, I passed right by the Denny’s - and with a squeal of bald tires and a rather large horn blowing in my ear, I dove into the Denny’s lot. It was 7:45 I was almost LATE!
I did have enough time to sit and ponder the next move; should I be waiting for her, or should I let her wait for me? Each had their attractions and reservations. If I was waiting for her, the attraction would be my dependability - and I could of course orchestrate the best possible posture for her to see me in. First impressions are so important! However, if I was waiting for her, she might spot me and slip quietly out into the eroding evening, leaving me all alone in the winter of my discontent (and Mrs. Williams, my English teacher, thought I was not paying attention).

On the other hand (Have you ever wondered about that expression? Life is generally NOT ambidextrous; there hardly ever is another hand!), if she were waiting for me, she might first meet that airline captain, or think I’m a flake. She might also become so exhilarated by the anticipation she would fall into my arms in a swoon. I settled on being first (Was there ever really any doubt?).

So there I sat, looking as sexy and alluring as a short, pudgy, thinning-hair person could possibly look (did I mention I was getting older also?). Within a matter of seconds, it seemed that everyone knew what was up; I could hear whispering and murmuring.

“See that short pudgy guy over there?”

“...ahhhh, yes?”

“He’s meeting a known axe murderer.”

“No kidding! That’s horrible!”

“Well, that’s not the worst part! For one thing, he got here four hours early,”



“and his pants are wrinkled.”



“And I don’t know if I can tell you this, but...”

“...Yes, go on.... Come on, you can tell me!”

“...Well, OK, but don’t ever tell me I didn’t warn you....”

“Yes?”

“They met in a computer chat room!”




I’m not kidding you; the man fainted dead away. Pausing in reverie, I looked up just in time to see the woman I thought I was supposed to meet walk right past me and, before I could mutter anything, she strolled right up to a very elderly gentleman who was adjusting his teeth and said, “Are you Kenn???”

This caused my little heart to soar; I mean, there was no comparison - unless of course the guy was a millionaire. I sauntered up and said, in my best trembling squeaky voice, “Are you _____?” She was.

We sat down and ordered our food. Trying to make a good impression. I put a lot of thought into my selection, nothing that would be smelly, nothing that would leave stains on my hands, and nothing that would leave stringy bits of food stuck between my teeth. I think I ordered soup with a straw. We talked and shared brief life stories, we gazed into each other’s eyes. I guess we must have seen no one was home we wanted to get to know because we have never spoke again. Must have been like two passing ships on a stormy sea; both of us lonely, looking for answers and not even sure of the questions. We were polite to each other, but I suspect our real-life expectations did not match up with our online fantasies. We parted in that wet parking lot, me going my way and she going hers.

I drove back to the motel room to get the rest of my stuff; I had no desire to spend the night alone in an unfamiliar town. Somehow, it felt much better to spend the night alone in familiar territory. As I left the room, I took one look in the mirror. I wondered where that obnoxious but clever kid had gone. I looked closely and thought I could see a sparkle in my left eye, but the old guy in me just reached out, turned off the light, and went out into the parking lot and slid behind the wheel of a dirty green Datsun.
As the engine klubbered away, I eased out into the road and pointed the car towards home. I passed the old man walking down the sidewalk, his hand clasping a well-worn coat. The coat belonged to the woman he was with, and as we passed, our eyes met - and I realized he was a millionaire.

The return trip was uneventful. I got home early enough to go online and see who was on; by this time. I had started to meet a few people and, even thought they were miles away, there is a comfort to having friends to chat with. A few of my friends were on, and we joked and kidded and (with cyber palms) slapped each other on the back and gave each other comfort.
And all this time as I was searching for relationships He was over my shoulder , He was beside me as I pulled a 360 on the frozen Santiam highway , He was there as I ironed my pants and , gazed at menu and another lonely person across the table from me ....He was there and waiting for a moment to speak into my life.

Interlude 1

" the Church exists for nothing else , but to draw men unto Christ ...If they are not doing that all the Cathedrals , clergy , missions , sermons , EVEN THE BIBLE ITSELF , are simply a waste of time. " , God became man for no other purpose , It is even doubtful , you know whether the whole universe was created for any other purpose " C.S. Lewis



When I first accepted Christ I had a vision of Christians surrounding themselves with walls and ramparts building strong fortifications against the world , and raining arrows and pouring hot oil on the people clamouring to break into their fortress ...I also saw Christ coming back and tearing these walls down , filling in the moats the oil was no longer hot but instead fragrant and healing ....

Of course I was a young Christian in those days ...Saved by Grace and passionate to understand more about God ...I devoured books and commentaries ...I read the Bible daily and went through a list of Christians Writers that included Chuck Swindol , Charles Stanley , Max LUcado , Phillip Yancey , Tony Compolo , RC Sproul , John McArthur , Dietrich Bonhoeffer , Francis Schaeffer ... and many many more ...and a curious thing happened ...I moved away from grace ...I began to fancy myself quite the Bible scholar and I even had a Hebrew Greek Study Bible to prove it ...I found my self wondering why more CHristians weren't as well read as I was ...I was always a little bit startled to find older more mature Christians who seemed to struggle with finding Ephesians , or Titus in the Bibles ....I began to judge my walk with God with my vast knowledge of things Bible ...I began to involve myself in meaningless and trivial arguments about trivial and meaningless minutia ...I was in short overlooking the forest for the trees ...About three years ago God had enough of that ...He moved us to a Church where I was hit square in the face with Worship and Praise ...in hindsight I can see that I moved from a sitting church , to a doing church ...We praise Him in music , Song and dance , we have genuine fellowship , we accept each other as Christ accepts us , with spots and stripes , with worn out luggage , ties and tee shirts ...We are encouraged to read the scriptures , we are encouraged to pray ...but always with the purpose of loving Gods Children ....all of them .

In my past I would keep a running " debate " with the Pastor preaching , Here in the new terrority God placed me in there was none of that ...each word from all of our pastors and speakers ...was appointed to find its way into my heart to set me free from the bondage of the walls I had built up myself separating myself from other Christians . My Pedantry , and Scholarship had no meaning in a sanctuary filled with Love and Grace ....

Gods Kingdom is here and there ...it is heaven ward and it is inside each of us ...I believe true Christianity , finds its expression in accepting others as Christ has accepted us ...there are no exams ...our faith is not measured by our knowledge of the difference between Armenianism and Calvinism , between Pre Mil and post Mil , mature Christians which I am so thankful for express their faith in Love ...Love does not separate , love does not hold a record of wrongs , love is patient and long suffering ...How can you say you love God , when you do not love His people ...all of them .

It now seems to me if your time spent in study of God through the Scriptures , if your time spent in front of a pulpit ,( if you do so) leads you to believe that fewer and fewer men/women are " true believers " ...that if your time in private fellowship with God makes you hard as flint , if it separates you from mankind , from your brothers and sisters in Christ ...if you spend your time studying the scriptures in a effort to separate yourself from the common and the less " committed " followers of Christ . you need to close up the book , get on your knees and ask God for forgiveness ....The Christian call is one of action , not meditation ...while many religions have set themselves up as centers for personal enlightenment , the Christian faith was one of going out ...moving boldly into the world , not fortifying itself against the world ...

Paul was quite clear ...Christ and Christ Crucified is the main course of our faith all else is garnish . I Believe there are seasons in our Christian life , and all have their merit ...I have gone through seasons of study and solitary introspection , a season of vanity , a season of grace , a season of Sovereignty , but all of these should lead me to Faith expressing itself in love ...and how do we show God how much we love Him ?
by Loving His people , by loving His children despite their faults , their imperfections , their theology or lack







IF WE ONLY HAVE LOVE




If we only have love
Then tomorrow will dawn
And the days of our years
Will rise on that morn
If we only have love
To embrace without fears
We will kiss with our eyes
We will sleep without tears
If we only have love
With our arms open wide
Then the young and the old
Will stand at our side
If we only have love
Love that's falling like rain
Then the parched desert earth
Will grow green again
If we only have love
For the hymn that we shout
For the song that we sing
Then we'll have a way out
If we only have love
We can reach those in pain
We can heal all our wounds
We can use our own names
If we only have love
We can melt all the guns
And then give the new world
To our daughters and sons
If we only have love
Then Jerusalem stands
And then death has no shadow
There are no foreign lands
If we only have love
We will never bow down
We'll be tall as the pines
Neither heroes nor clowns
If we only have love
Then we'll only be men
And we'll drink from the Grail
To be born once again
Then with nothing at all
But the little we are
We'll have conquered all time
All space, the sun, and the stars.


Jaques Brel



1 Corinthians 13
The Way of Love
If I speak with human eloquence and angelic ecstasy but don't love, I'm nothing but the creaking of a rusty gate. If I speak God's Word with power, revealing all his mysteries and making everything plain as day, and if I have faith that says to a mountain, "Jump," and it jumps, but I don't love, I'm nothing. If I give everything I own to the poor and even go to the stake to be burned as a martyr, but I don't love, I've gotten nowhere. So, no matter what I say, what I believe, and what I do, I'm bankrupt without love.

Dating AOL style

Dating AOL style
Jesus said that the Greatest Commandment was, “To Love God with all your heart and soul and mind, and the second is like the first, love your neighbor as yourself.” I really believe that Jesus told us this not because it would first please God, but rather because if followed, it would give all of us much happiness.




Just to make sure we understood this message, we have that great definition of love by Paul. I’m sure that if you closely look at those whose lives are lonely, who have no friends, you will see that this message has not reached them. I am not talking mumbo jumbo here, I’m talking good, practical sense. Let’s consider two passages here; the first is 1st Corinthians Chapter 13:

If I speak in the tongues of men and angels but have not love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. If I give all I possess to the poor and surrender my body to the flames but have not love, I gain nothing. Love is patient love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud, it is not rude, it is not self seeking. It is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not believe in evil, but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes always preserveres.


WOW, WOW, AND DOUBLE WOW! There it is, all the Masters and Johnston, Dr. Ruth and Playboy advisor all rolled up into one easily-understood passage. Really, it should go on the back of the wedding license and on the Trojan box (remember: men and women of the married variety). I can practically guarantee you romantic happiness if you and your spouse follow this advice - and why stop there? This is simply great advice for a lifetime of great friendships and success, and it costs you nothing that you shouldn’t already have to give.

But I am being premature here. I have several months to go before I can really get into that conversation.

I was very surprised when I got my first IM (instant message); it was from some woman (I hope), whose name is forever lost. I remember she was from California and recently divorced; she had two children who occupied a lot of her time, and her only social outlet was talking to people on AOL. I’m not sure what attracted her to me; perhaps it was my typing (who knows), but she IM’s me and asked me if I was single. On my profile I left the “single/married” line out because I wasn’t sure. I mean, it was pretty clear that I would not reconcile - or more accurately that Karen would not reconcile - so while technically I was married, in the libido department I was definitely single; and the only single women in town ( both of them ) were still busy.

This nameless woman and I chatted for some while, and she aided me in my understanding of how to use AOL. We got to be reasonable friends and, as luck would have it, she was going to be visiting a girlfriend within a few hundred miles of where I lived. Plans were made to meet each other at an exotic restaurant (Denny’s). After we made arrangements to meet, I did a great version of a short and chunky high five and thought to myself, “I’m going to survive this!” Little did I know of the trickery of the Smiling Mortician. First of all, it was winter - and that meant several hours of driving in a less-than-reliable car under what could best be called “miserable conditions.” The lonesome town I lived in is lonesome for good reason: it’s tucked neatly into an area where the Army should conduct its cold weather maneuvers. Calling the car I had borrowed, “less than reliable” is like calling Jimmy Hoffa “definitely on the never gonna come back list.” Not to be deterred, I gathered up my warmest clothes, a flashlight, a blanket, some soup (forgot the can opener), and told a few friends of my plans in case I would never return. I did consider calling up a creditor - they always seem to know how to find me.

My friends reacted predictably; “You’re WHAT?!?!?!?!?!??!” seemed to be a consensual reaction. There is a gap between the reality of people who do not use the chat rooms and those that do.

People who have never been online see any online activity as a perversion at worse, and a silliness at best – while meeting a woman in the appropriate manner (In Sisters this involved getting drunk and having her drive you home while you pretended to be simply tired from being such an extraordinary worker) is viewed as appropriate civil behavior, the idea that you might actually meet someone you have never even seen was considered flat-out foolishness. It kinda bothered me that my “friends” were more concerned about this part of the meeting than even venturing a, “You’re a damn fool for trying to drive that piece of crap over the mountain.” I suspect if I were driving that piece of crap to the local saloon, they might have mentioned that to me. They were triaging the whole thing and, as friends, I suspect they had my best interest at heart. And as friends, I could count on them to tell everyone in the town what a fool I was

AOL and the first time
THE FIRST TIME




One thing can be said about the *first time* online: it’s not quite as terrifying as a first date, but it’s certainly filled with anxiety.





The first anxiety of course is: is this going to work? I mean, am I really going to be able to have a meaningful discussion with someone all the way across the country in Bangor, Maine? Well after two years, the verdict is in yes its possible to have an intelligent conversation with someone all the way across the country, although I have yet to have an intelligent conversation with any one in Bangor, Maine. I think people who have grown up with computers take them for granted; what a miracle of thought, invention, and ingenuity! (That’s just the packaging….) I remember the first handheld calculator I ever saw; it belong to one of the (successful) agents in the life insurance company I worked for. It was black and very expensive - it came with its own security guard; the agent had mortgaged his house for it, and I think had sold his son in bondage. No big loss; I remembered the son from an office picnic (he was the one with potato salad stuck to his cheek). Little did we realize that calculator was the beachhead of a major technological invasion destined to dent our pocket books, release us from our working bondage (it’s past 2 a.m. here as I write) and give us consumers a new enemy to deal with: the manual writer.

So, there I sat in my darkened cavern of a living space, hearing for the first time the sound of a modem being put through its paces.

Finally, alone in my little cave, I finally have my modem working and have gone through the paperwork necessary to begin AOL. I watch as the screen on the computer changes and whirs and makes lots of interesting noises, and suddenly I am at the AOL welcome screen, and a voice booms out, “You have mail!” This voice, which would soon become my best friend, really startled me. My first thought was “Wow! this works fast! I’m already getting attention.” It was, however, a welcome letter from Steve Case - the owner of the company and soon-to-be new yacht owner all because of me - or so it would appear.

In the early days of AOL, there was a cost attached to AOL - and the cost did add up. If you ever noticed people in the early 1990’s walking along the roads collecting bottles, there was a good chance they were AOL members trying to collect enough money to keep them online. As I understand it, AOL would actually, in some cases, provide you with your very own cart. I still remember what a great deal I got with my first AOL signup: I got 10 free hours. That is a lot like getting a “Free Fishing Trip to Alaska” - free after plane fare, licenses and lodging, but you can fish free.

AOL allows its members the opportunity to create what are called “screen names”. These are most often an extension of the member’s personality, and can range from the basic “Tom Smith” to clever, well-thought-out names like “Mr. Stud”. Hopefully, later I will talk more about the psychology of screen names (a relatively new discipline in the psychology field), but let’s just say here a good screen name can make or break you online.
The problem is, unless you get some advance knowledge about this, you often are forced into coming up with a really stupid name right off the bat. AOL has anticipated this and provides members (members are what AOL calls those people who become addicted to the service) five more screen names. Its a fact that very few members end up using their original name; after they get online they can see what the really clever members are doing and adjust their name accordingly. In my case I went from the banal name of Musiken to HottMD in only thirty minutes , ( thinking fast is not always a good case for thinking right). Fortunately, AOL allows its members to delete a screen name - and I suspect it was God’s plan for me to choose HottMD so that name could no longer be used by any other person. Out of all this insight I created my new screen name which would last me for the next six months. Scott4hugs was born that first night. Why Scott and why Hugs will forever be a mystery to me; my name is Kenn, and I am perhaps the least tactile person in existence; but there it was, my first real screen name and the will to use it.

AOL is HUGE - you can practically find anything you want in the whole world in the area of information: from complicated instructions for building sled dog warming huts, to government documents, and the latest news and weather. I am equally sure there are at least three people using these functions - the rest of us were in the chat rooms.

Chat rooms are electronic rooms where people gather to insult and proposition each other; they can also be used for uplifting conversation and creating friendships, and I suspect there at least three people doing just that also.

I believe at the heart of the success of companies like AOL is the inescapable fact that there is A LOT of lonely people out there. (There being the real world) I know this to be true because I was one of them, and the fervent hope of all these people is to find someone to talk to and encourage them and make them feel wanted.

SO to that end the options are incredible. There are rooms for people to talk about just about any subject you care to think about, from sewing circles to pagan tea houses, from leather interests to Gun and Bun Chats (usually not together). For a new person being online, it’s simply overwhelming. It can also be hard on your ego. I remember feeling very rejected because the “onlinehost” would not talk to me. And in fact it took me several days to find these other rooms. I kept going into what’s called People Connection and ended up in the Lobby. I did not realize this was the door to other rooms; instead I stayed in the Lobby and was battered with rejection as hundreds of other people came into the room and left. In my mind, most likely because they thought I was a wuss. It wasn’t until several nights later I actually figured out how the whole thing worked, and found myself in a room called “Water Sports.”(It was not about surfing, and I felt compelled to leave after getting an education I didn’t suspect I ever needed to know about in the first place.

At last I found a home; the room was called “Thirtysomething,” and it was filled with bright intelligent conversation, with all kinds of people that were of course under thirty and incredibly successful. The first thing I noted was that, based on the profiles of these members, if they were a man they were over six feet tall and very Aryan and very successful (there was once three brain surgeons in the room at the same time), and, if a woman, very successful and blonde and former cheerleaders.

About profiles. Remember that I said a good screen name could make or break you? Well, the same can be said of an onscreen profile. This is a place where you can tell vital information about yourself, (we will look at a few from time to time) in such a manner as to get the attention of the six foot blonde brain surgeon, or the 5’ 8” blonde vogue cover girl.

Frankly, it’s in reading the profiles of members that you begin to see the difference between the sexes, and in the subtlety of the members: men tend to be very direct, kinda like, “I WANT YOU NOW, WOMAN!” whereas the women tend to be more poetic and romantic. Anyway, here are a few screen names culled from the member directory of AOL; what some of these names lose in creativity they gain in just plain silliness or worse.

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Well, here I am looking at this screen whirring by and trying to make sense of all the conversation going on. I tell you, it’s not easy. I am a poor typist; I have to look at my fingers when I type, so when I type I cannot read what is being “said” in the chat room. It gets a little complicated at times, but the very first thing you realize is that it’s complicated for everyone. I plowed right in and said hello. Now, at first this seemed to have very little impact. I began to notice that those who were saying the most outrageous things were the ones getting all the attention. So I started to be outrageous and I fibbed a little. At this point I’m so lonely that if getting someone to like me means taking a few years off my life (and a few pounds), I can be what someone wants me to be - or so I think. It strikes me that if all these lonely people just used life’s little instruction book they wouldn’t be quite so lonely. By that I mean the Bible. STOP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I promise you I’m not going over the top here; I’m not going to get “ewwey-ewwey” on you. I just think that people could do a whole lot better in the relationship department if they studied their Bibles! (Why do you think they have them in motels?) Let’s face it: as the Stage Manager said in Our Town, people are meant to go through life two by two - and believe it or not the best sex manual I have run across is the Bible. A few disclaimers here: it’s not illustrated, it’s not specific, and it will require your first sexual experience to be with your wife or husband, And for very good reason, But that’s a very small price to pay for a lifetime of happiness. However, we are getting ahead of ourselves here. Before marriage, you have to meet the person of your dreams - and there is no better way to meet people and have them notice you than to live by spiritual principals.

Calling the Company

CALLNG THE COMPANY

If anyone was to look back at what happened to the American economy from the year 2020, they will no doubt immediately realize that the principal problem with sales in this country was caused by companies who were not really wanting to sell anything to you. While that may seem contradictory, think about it: when was the last time you ever called a major company to buy a product and actually got to talk to a real person who really wanted to sell you something at all?

More often than not don't you get the feeling that if you do manage to actually talk to a real human being , they act more like you are interrupting them, than a person who actually might be helping to pay their saleries ?
( I wrote this 13 years ago and it actually seems to have gotton worse , despite millions of dollers in Customer Service programs , most of us are learning to accept poor service and a persistant drumbeat of " its not my department " )

So now I make the call , it went something like this: Ring Ring Ring Ring "Hello. Welcome to Zeos, a division of Meos. In an effort to better help you, we would like you to listen carefully to the following menu, in order to better serve our customers this call may be monitored... "If you are using a touch tone phone, please press *1*. If you are NOT using a touch tone phone, forget it." (I Press *1*) "Welcome to Zeos. For our mail order catalogue, press *1*. For our Customer Service, press *2*. For accounts payable, press *3*. For Mindy, press *4*. For Sales, press *5*." (I Press *5* while wondering who Mindy is.) "Welcome to Zeos sales. If you are an institutional buyer, press *1*. For office computer needs, press *2*. For home sales needs, press *3*." (I Press *3*) "Welcome to Zeos home computer sales. For computers, press *1*. For monitors, press *2*. For software, press *3*. For accessories, press *4*." (I Press *4*) "Hello. You have reached Zeos accessories. If you are calling from the Eastern Time zone, press *1*. From the Midwest, press *2*. From the Rocky Mountain time zone, press *3*. From Pacific Time zone, press *4*." (I Press *4*) "Hello. You have reached Zeos Pacific Time zone accessory salesman Bob Bumble. I'm not at my desk at the moment, but if you care to leave a message no my voice mail, please press *1*...." This goes on for the next week, at least. Bob, I suspect, is also lost in the elevator (Press *2*), and I eventually have to pretend I'm a huge institutional buyer just wanting to sample a modem. FINALLY, it's on its way to me.

NOTE: I think a great business could be founded on just contacting these companies that thought it was good business to get rid of the person we used to call a receptionist who knew everyone - and where everyone was, you know, the person back in the cave days of early American business who could put you in touch with real people who were sincerely interested in talking to you and finding out what you needed and helping you get it. What I would do is this for those companies who have modernized in such a Fashion I would go into a meeting with these people and hand them a cellular phone, pass it to the chairman, or CEO, and say, "OK. You call and order something from your company on your advertised number." Of course, the executives all have a private number that is unavailable to us. My prayer is that when some of these decision-makers lose their jobs to falling sales and loss of revenue, they start their job search by calling the job placement agency and get, "Hello, and welcome to Acme Personnel. If you are using a touch tone phone, please press *1* now...."

OK. Now, the modem is on its way. Life is still good and the local store has restocked Marie Calendar. I bond briefly with the FedEx guy, exchange a few pleasantries, and stare at my new modem.

It needs to be installed.

( yes another note in the old days ...Computer Modems were add-ons and about the size of a small suitcase )
Now, next to the phone systems I think SAR (some assembly required) is the next worst blight on American industry. I mean, everyone is complaining about not having enough work for his or her employees to do. OK, then, have them assemble the darn things - I'm kinda funny. I like to take things out of a box, plug them in, and see them work IMMEDIATELY

Beginnings ( Repost from August 2008 ) PBG

The Book Gets underway 13 years ago
Like all Books, this has a beginning. This book really began with the Purchase of a Zeos Pantera Computer , a compnay that I don't even know is in buisness now, Since I began this book over 13 years have passed , and a lot of High Tech Companies have now become extinct. Some of the comments I make may sound odd by the standards of today ( 2008 ) but I have reason to believe that todays standards will soon join the list of extinct standards , practices , and companies. Anyway ... The purchase of a new computer began with an ending - after fifteen years, my wife and I separated and divorced. The sum of our relationship was: a wonderful daughter, a large house, a car of the Toyota variety, and a store with bills that were rapidly filling up that Zeos Pantera's disk space. After the separation, I took the store, the debt, and the computer. Karen took the rest.

At first it did not seem like the best of trades - moving from the large house to the back of the store did not seem quite fair. But, there was no other way, looking on the bright side I found myself with a very short commute.

The store was located in a small resort town in the West - so small that there were only two single women in my age group in the entire town and they were booked until 1999. There are no movie theaters. There are a couple of taverns that specialize in customers hooting at the various sporting events on the television.

I remember feeling that I would need something to fill my time and take my mind off the separation. It's funny how your mind lets you sometimes inch into tragedy - at first it, it seemed like camping. Being now single and alone, I decided on a clever course of action: I would drive 150 miles to the town of Eugene and get some computer games to go with my Zeos Pantera. After all, it had a CD-ROM and a 256-color monitor - it made sense to me.

Looking back, this may seem a little pathetic: 47 years old, living in the back of a store. I, with what I thought was good reason, decided that Sim City, Return to Zork, and Leisure Suit Larry would provide me with the companionship I craved for the rest of my life. These were computer games in the early years of gaming no serious blood was shed and most of the action happened as I typed instructions to the Characters in the role playing games.

I remember that night snuggling up in the sleeping bag, the heady aroma of a Marie Callendar's roast beef dinner hanging in the air, and the Leisure Suit Larry manual in my hand and a smile on my face. Life could be bliss - who needed relationships?

This phase of my life lasted about two days. The Sim City needed more RAM, Zork wouldn't configure to my system, and Leisure Suit Larry never seemed to get the girl. Cable was still a week away, and I was bored, lonely, and out of Marie Callendar's roast beef dinners. bliss had bailed out.

It was time for a little introspective look at my life, this was my second marriage I was beginning to wonder if marriage was such a good idea. A line from the play Our Town kept running through my mind something about going through life two by two. This time it felt more like a 2x 4. If I was going to get into another relationship it had to be special, what I really wanted was someone who would love me for who I was who would delight in me and yet encourage me to be better, someone who was always there for me and knew my every need, but I was old enough to recognize fantasy and just left my self content with finding a few good friends

It was at this time that providence entered my life. While searching for answers to the RAM problem I stumbled across the computer magazine with an AMERICAN ONLINE start up disk in it. AOL had been thrust into my life. Vaguely, I remembered an article I had read about cybersex and with trembling fingers I installed the disk. I was ready for whatever came my way. I had my life back. America Online was just what I needed...

Almost, seems like I needed a modem.

Life is way too complicated. Why can't you just run down to your local grocery store - the same place you buy the Marie Callendar's dinners - and throw a modem into your cart? Instead, you have to go to a place that sells modems.

If you remember the town was very small. Modem outlets were nonexistent. In fact, I suspect we just got outlets last year. Anyway...I stumbled across the information from Zeos that they had sent me with the computer and remembered that I could call them and they could FedEx the modem to me. Life went back to being simple - or so I thought...