Not a name-dropper ~

I have never been a name dropper. I just don't think that way. I don't think about trying to gain an advantage by using connections or perceived connections to get preferential treatment.

But I'm surrounded by name-droppers. My wife does it. Other relatives do it. Many people drop the names of television personalities in order to give their words more weight.

Even devotionals meant for us to center our minds on God do this. They quote authors and pastors of big churches. And then they encourage us to drop the name of God on people and we want to gain a little bit better access to things or gain some control over someone that's not the way they freeze it, but that's the result that they are looking for.

In a time when so many people are wailing against preferential treatment I always find it funny to see people use the fraternity or sorority affiliation to get jobs and to get discounts.

My father even did it! My father joined the Freemasons later in life. When he would travel he would slip on his Freemasonry ring and then he would wave it in front of the waitress or waiter in an effort to get a discount. He didn't do it around me, but I was told by plenty of people that he did that on numerous occasions.

I prefer to live my life with an approach on a level playing field. Or as level as it can be given the circumstances. That way when we do things we all get along. We all enjoy the possibility of similar outcomes.

But then I see people glory and me having to pay more than them because I'm not as well-connected. I see people take glee in abusing the system and then saying that they didn't say I couldn't.

I think the world would be a better place if we all approached it equally. Sadly, many people would prefer to cheat and lie and steal in their effort to avoid doing the work required to get an outcome similar to what I've got. Right now they're calling that equitable, but I'm calling it cheating and lying and stealing because so many people are doing just that.

Lack of respect ~

We're in a strange time right now where the lack of respect for others has grown into an ugly malignancy that threatens our society.

It started a long time ago. The struggle has always been there. Little lyrics looped into songs to push the agenda talk about the gentle curve of something without ever saying it. As the edge got pushed further out they got worse. A very popular rock song that I remember that really pushed hard on the edge was If You See Kay. I forget who sang it but it was a hot song on the radio is because it pushed that image and got the F word out there on the radio. Openly.

Wrappers push that edge hard, then bend and break it over and over and over. The repeated use of the N-word with the defense that "I'm black so I can say this" is saddening as much as it's maddening. Songs that say the word shutting within an "I" instead of the "u" and then the smiling smirk when they get interviewed about it shock people and make it more more acceptable.

Social media doesn't help. "Oh my God" got shortened to OMG. To put more emphasis on it it became OMFG. I've only seen JFC a couple times but it is out there. And the things that people put in comments are just incredibly disrespectful. I remember one that I saw where somebody commenting on somebody else's opinion and it was obvious that they did not know each other but this person had stumbled across them online talk about the author's mother's vagina. Where is any shred of respect in that?

Books have come out in the past few years like "Shit my father said" that got turned into a TV show if I remember right. F the world. Shut the F up. The Art of not giving an F.

The F bomb is one of the most prevalent edge pushers out there. It's used in conversations and kids say it to try and feel more adult like. I have used the word way too often and have worked hard to reduce and minimize that use. One of the most beautiful acts between a man and a woman reduced to a comment meant to wound and shock becomes more and more minimized the more easy it is used.

Now headlines on prominent news websites use F*** openly.

All of this seems to bow down to the general low level of respect and self-control being exercised by people. The use of all these things in the pushing of the edge and obliterating of the line in the name of freedom of expression fit right in with the neo-barbarian view of the world and what I call the new American slogan: don't get in my way.

We've come a long way since that artist put a Christian cross in a jar of urine and called it "Piss Christ". I'm almost afraid of what the neo-Puritans will do when the pendulum swings the other way.

We'll see...

Keychain pocket knife ~

One of the things that I carried as a father of young children was a Victorinox keychain pocketknife with the mini scissors. I used them to cut my children's straws so that they were better sized for the children's cups that they got at the fast food restaurants that we frequented. I used them for various other things that came up.

It was nice to have a pocketknife connected to my keychain. I could easily cut things and use the little scissors to cut paper and straws and other small items to custom fit them to whatever I was doing.

Recently my adult daughter commented to her husband that "yeah, my dad has scissors on the knife on his keychain". And I was embarrassed that I did not have one of those connected to my keychain at the time. All of my children are adults and I figured I did not need to keep one on my keychain anymore. But I did keep one in the vehicle that was parked in my garage at my house over a thousand miles away. It was rather frustrating and disappointing. As I cleaned out the vehicle in y driveway recently I found the small pocketknife and reattached it to my keychain.

I look forward to giving my adult children pocket knives with scissors to attach to their keychains so that they can do the things that I did as I raising them. We'll see what they do with them...

High school reunions ~

I graduated high school in 1982. In 2012 I enjoyed being a part of the group that brought a 30 year high school reunion into the world. We got a big ballroom at the Hilton hotel in town and put on a good show.

But there were side parties and other things with the clicks (cliques?) from high school that I was not invited to nor included in even though I was part of the organizing team of the reunion. I was the treasurer, and all payments for the big party came through me.

So as we drew close to the 40 year anniversary of our graduation from high school I was asked by the leading members of our class about participating in this anniversary.

In high school I was a nerd. I carried all my books with me. I was shy, stayed on the edge, was a wallflower. At the 30-year reunion I made a big deal about how someone can come from being a wallflower to being a leader of the effort to bring us together. It was awesome!

But because none of those people really reached out to me over the past nine or so years and there really hasn't been a relationship with them (except as social media friends) I feel no affiliation there. I have no need to reunite with the people that made fun of me and denigrated me and created such angst in me that I struggled as an adult.

So when I was asked if I would help with the 40 year reunion I said no. I feel some guilt over that, but for the most part I am fine with my decision. I told them that I would be happy to attend but I would not be taking a leadership position in the reading.

It will be interesting to see what they come up with and if I even participate.

A Peanuts thought ~

When I was growing up I enjoyed reading the comics in the newspaper. I thought the pictures were fine and the stories telling jokes and making fun of things always made me laugh when I understood them and made me smile when I didn't understand.

One of my favorite comic strips was peanuts by Charles Schultz. Charlie Brown, Linus, Lucy, Snoopy and Woodstock, and all the rest made me smile and wonder that some of the things that they said and what it all meant.

I would buy books of Peanuts cartoons when we went to the bookstore at the mall. I had a collection of several Peanuts books and I would read them over and over.

Each holiday I would enjoy watching the Peanuts special on TV whenever it would come on and we were at home. As I got older I would check the TV listing in the Sunday newspaper guide to what was coming on television that week and I would see when it was gonna be and I would actually look forward to that day so that we could eat dinner and be done in I would be there early so that we could see the special. The Great Pumpkin, the little sad looking Christmas tree, all made me feel good and gave me enjoyment.

I recently learned from a Paul Harvey "the rest of the story" episode that Charles Schulz, the artist who created and drew the Peanuts cartoons that I loved so much, suffered from shaking hands to where when he drew with pencil the lines would be irregular. He would go back over everything with a pen over and over to make the line solid and not look squiggly and haphazard.

Charles Schulz also suffered from some sort of thing in his brain that made him feel like a dark cloud was over him at all times and he was depressed and sad often. The feeling of having a dark cloud following him went on for all of his life Paul Harvey said. Just like his father suffered from.

As I heard that story I thought of all the times that life was so good for me and my family and yet I felt as if there was a dark cloud over me and I was afraid that things would fall apart and go to crap. I remember telling people when I was a teenager and older that a dark cloud followed me. I remember trying to draw strength from that dark cloud and only getting angry and frustrated and upset.

In today's litigious woke time the thought crossed my mind that I should file a lawsuit and sue for damages to my psyche. But I realize that I chose to read those comic strips. I ran to them and embraced them and absorbed them and made them part of me. To the point that as I finally woke up and realized that I didn't have to accept that feeling and that I wasn't Charlie Brown and that I had a great life and that I have a great life and that that dark cloud doesn't drive me all it does is drag me down. I realized and accepted that I had made choices and that it was my responsibility.

I am so very grateful that God woke me up and helped me accept who I am in him and how awesome my life has been, is, and will be.

After I woke up from all of that before and learned to love the way things are I now turn away when I see Charlie Brown and the gang. I chuckle and fondly remember the enjoyment that I had but I don't want to get infected with that thinking again.

If you ever wonder and want to learn more ask me and I'll share with you what I learned and how I got out from under that dark cloud.

Hated ~

I have been hated for a long time.

When I was growing up I was a nerd. I watched Star Trek (the original series). I watched it so much that I could tell you which episode it was just based on the first couple of seconds of the show started on the television.

My mother told me that if you carry a book around you'll never be bored, so I took that advice and for a long time I almost always had a paperback book with me. I read Star Trek books. I read Charlie Brown books. I read Alan Dean Foster books and other science fiction books. One of my favorite books of all time was "The Past Through Tomorrow" by Robert Heinlein ( https://www.amazon.com/Past-Through-Tomorrow-History-Stories/dp/0441653049). Nerd! Now I carry a library on my hip in my phone. Of purchased e-books, of course!

As an employee of McDonald's I arrived on time. I stayed late. I got into the grease. I moved and kept moving and did things I wasn't asked to do and got stuff done.

As an air traffic controller I was the quiet nerdy guy that didn't really hang out with everybody else that were talking about their strip clubs and parties and stuff. I was married and stayed married. I didn't go to places after work with those guys because I didn't fit in. I tried to fit in and all and I was accepted for who I was. It was just weird.

Entertainment shows like Family Ties demeaned me and my kind. As a male the entertainment industry has made me out to be a buffoon and an indecisive but aggressive abuser of people and things.

My parents loved me but they always asked and even today my mother will ask "how in the hell did we raise a conservative when we were Democrats?"

As someone who is committed to what I decide to commit to, dedicated to the people that I'm given charge of or get an opportunity to help, I am told to back off. I'm looked at in strange ways. My input is specifically ignored. Unless it's useful to the people and then they take it and run with it.

Now there are forces turning my own society against me and my kind. Based on my income, skin color, marital status, sexual preference, and other factors.

Through the years I've learned to endure. I recently saw a meme with the face of the Joker on it that said damaged people are dangerous because they know they can survive. I continue to survive and thrive in hostile environments.

What I tell people so that they don't get too scared is that I continue to achieve all of my objectives. And I do!

And yet I still feel hated by society. Especially because I am successful.

But I also know that I am loved. Take that!

Had a house demolished ~

I had a house demolished. I inherited some of my family's land and an almost 100-year-old house that my grandparents had lived in. It was the house where my father grew up.

It was a good house. I had several good memories there. My grandmother and grandfather would do their little decorations for Christmas. Grandma made a big deal about having the family get-together when we could for Christmas gift exchange. It was one of the only times in the year that I got to see my aunt and her side of the family. They lived in town and we didn't really cross paths with them. And so it was a special occasion when we got to see them.

My fondest memories of that house were of those Christmas celebrations out on the screen porch. But there are other memories. I remember when I was growing up my brother and I slept on the front screen porch. It was closed in with jalousie windows. Grandma and Grandpa did not have air conditioning out there and so summer nights were hot and those jalousie windows were open wide with screens keeping most of the bugs out. One of those summer nights we were sleeping and both of us woke up. We heard the sound of something walking outside of one of the windows. It sounded just like a person walking slowly and carefully. My brother and I got scared and finally got up enough courage to run into the kitchen and tell Dad and Grandpa. Grandpa just chuckled and said it's probably an armadillo and explained that armadillos sound like a person when they're walking in the leaves. My brother and I went back out and lay down and then we listened to the armadillo do his thing until we fell asleep.

I remember the blue bedroom was where we slept when we moved next door to my grandparents. That was when my Mom and Dad were having our house built on an acre property. The blue bedroom had an air conditioner installed in the window. Grandma would turn that thing on around seven at night and by the time I went to bed at 9pm or 10pm it was freezing in that room. Midsummer nights and I had to have two blankets on top of me to stay warm. It was amazing!

I also remember before they got central heat and air installed in the house they used little electric heaters in the bedrooms to warm them up just a little bit during the winters. But they had a big propane furnace in the kitchen. It looked like a wood-burning furnace but it used propane and the tank was outside. It would be 35° outside and Dad would take me over to visit with Grandma and Grandpa and they would have the heater going so hot it was 90° in that room. And of course the doors to the rest of the house were closed to keep the heat in, so the rest of the house was freezing but that room was 90°.

After grandma died and when the house was given to me by my Dad nobody had lived in it for almost 10 years. Dad didn't have anything to do with it because he felt emotional every time he would go over there. Grandpa had died in the house. All of Dad's good memories of Grandma were gone with grandma's death. And Dad just didn't want to deal with the sadness and the ghosts.

A couple of years ago my wife and I were talking about it and we decided that we would never live in that house. It was too old and it didn't really fit what we wanted as a lifestyle. And it would take way too much money to fix it up and repair it. Just before that decision the house had developed a leak in the roof that got so bad that it was going into one of the bedrooms and the screen porch. A new roof would've cost more money than we were willing to spend. And the house had developed foundation problems and walls are cracking in the middle of the house. Comparing the costs to repair it to the cost to have it demolished we decided to go ahead and have it torn down. For us that was a better decision than letting it stay standing and then possibly having kids or drug users or squatters or whatever get in there and do things they shouldn't be doing in property that they didn't own that could incur liability in our lives.

My son offered to set things up to have it demolished and he did a good job coordinating that. Once the decision was made and a budget was laid out he got estimates, picked the company to work with, coordinated the disconnection of electricity, etc. And then he went down and oversaw the actual demolition of the house. He did a good job! And I'm very appreciative that he took this project on.

I feel strange about the whole thing. I feel like it was the right thing to do but find myself second-guessing, wondering, and all that sort of thing. But the decision was made and the action was taken. Now we are past it and we get to forge ahead into the bright new future.

It still feels weird to have had a house demolished.