Worst general manager ever

Jerry Jones deserves what he gets.  He had a chance to pick someone of great value, someone he had talked to and known from the passion in his rhetoric, the determined look in his eye, the steel in his tone of voice that this is a pick for an impact player.

Oh, no. Not Jerry Jones.  He is under the mistaken impression that money buys success.  He's tried that already.  He sticks with a highly paid quarterback who has impressive personal success - but can't win first-round playoff games.  If one listens to Romo talk, (s)he doesn't hear the passion in the rhetoric, just cliches like, "We need to watch more film."  (S)he doesn't see the merest hint of determination in his eyes, just resignation.  (S)he doesn't feel the strength of steel in his almost apologetic tone of voice.

so go ahead Jerry, pick someone as the #1 draft pick you think you can buy without even talking to him, be yourself, have one more lackluster year without any fanfare for winning a championship

Yeah, he stuttered

On tonight's news was an investigative report on a compound of families in Waco who seem to have a problem with sex abuse of young girls by some of the men in the compound.  Such a travesty!  I was watching the interview of one of the men involved in the abuse.  He had undergone counseling by the compound's "elders" for two years before the girl the abuse happened to reported the tragedy.  Evidently, in the counseling session, he had been told that the compound, or "church" as he called it, pointed out that it was against scripture to take a matter to the courts.  When he was asked by reporters why he thought the he was shielded by his church, he stuttered, "It was God's...  It was God's will... It was God's will  that these matters be kept within the church."

Yeah, I would have started that sentence three times myself.  Those pauses allow the mind to do a little reflecting on what might come out.  If you don't like the possible answer, you just have to start the sentence again.  The second rehearsal of an answer evidently didn't  yield any better results that made sense in his mind.  Finally, he just decided to tell the answer he had been coached to give.  Context determines how to interpret pauses, but in this case, he knew that the reporter was hostile, non-cultic (my words, of course), and not gentle in his presentation to the public he wrote for.  So, the pauses appear to be the man's testing in his mind how his words might sound to an outsider.

Sex abuse of young girls and God's will seem like opposites to me.  They do not seem like they could ever be two terms of a paradox or oxymoron.  EVER!  But the man who only stuttered  about why he almost got off scot free for such a heinous act should pay for all the therapy his daughter will need due to her watching elders administer counseling to the perpetrator and then asking her to forgive him.  Not my idea of God's will. 

I guess I should be grateful the man stuttered to show that he at least was considering how this might play with the non-cultic crowd who would be listening to the report.  But I also think that the stuttering revealed that he was hiding behind someone's misbegotten idea of God's will.  I don't have words strong enough to condemn this man's behavior. 

It might be that God's will for this man is to deconstruct his thinking and reconstruct what is right, good, and true in his soul.  He wouldn't find himself stuttering if he were to do this.

Needing the authentic

Carnation instant breakfast isn't food.  It tastes all right as far as substitute food drinks go, especially the chocolate version of it.  I hadn't drunk any in a long stretch of time until I started getting hungry again in the early morning hours.  So, recently, I have begun to start the work day with a little nutrition.  It worked.  It lasts for about 2-3 hours before it plays out, and it is a quick way of getting a few nutrients without cooking or eating out and spending much money.  Usually a person gets what he pays for.  But, in this case, it may just be a bargain.  My health is better.

Small fixes in life are many times just what the doctor ordered.  Those redirections of behavior toward one individual or two during the day can many times make the quality of  a day better.  Sometimes, finding a time during the day to make sure a little nagging task is getting accomplished gives just the right nudge to put the task behind and get on with a more enjoyable task.

Instant breakfast is not food, however, anymore than small daily adjustments in behavior are not going to cover the need to hear a laugh, see a smile, enjoy someone's company, sip a drink knowing that all is well with the world.

 I will have a glass of instant breakfast in the morning, but I know it is not authentic food.

Where the heart is...

There is a saying about the heart that is true 100% of the time.  Where your heart is, there your treasure lies also.  I like this saying for a number of reasons.  But the main reason is that it uses the word treasure.  I like that word a lot because it shows the supreme value a person puts on something or someone.  Having someone of supreme value in your heart is a repetition of double value because matters of the heart also make something supremely special.  A treasure in a heart, then, is a reiteration of how supremely, extremely valuable and special something or someone is.  As the tip of my tongue flattens against the alveolar ridge to form the voiced fricative that marks the sound warming my whole being because of the treasured name that follows, every chamber of my heart resonates.

Hint of the majestic

Tonight the moon is but a sliver of itself in all of its beauty when it is full.  It is a reminder that life in all of its beauty is masked by darkness sometimes, causing it not to be seen.  There is that tiny sliver of hope that the moon in its brightness will again be seen.  But faith takes over because you have seen the splendor of the moon in its fullness before.  You have to wait for its return.  That is so very hard to do, but faith looks through the present invisibility to see the beauty of the full moon.  When the full moon actually does appear... how majestic... well worth the wait.

Set notes

In math, one can have sets.  There are sets for sequences  {1, 2, 3, ...}, sets for patterns {1, 3, 5, ...}, sets for operations {10(5), 5(5), 2.5(5), ...}, and the list goes on.  Sets isolate from the larger system the numbers a person wants to work with.  Then, of course, there's the empty set {   }.  Nothing is in it.  Not the value "nothing," but the absence of numbers to work with.

I look at events and people in my life.  I can pull at will the sets of events and persons I want to work with from the total number of events and people in my life.  I like to do this and have written about different sets on a number of occasions.  So many events occur in life that sometimes sets turn into empty sets because the brain cannot remember the events.  Something becomes nothing so to speak.

Tonight I am thinking of a fixed set in my mind of a series of special events. . If somehow that series 3 springtimes ago would lead to a second and similar series of special events, and if that series could lead to a lifetime of special events...

-3 years{special events }+ present{special events}-->{0, 1, 2, 3 ... n years (infinity) pure joy}

{   } --> {heaven forbid}

Over (again) whelmed

Whelm is a word from Old English.  Today it only exists in literature because it has given way to a supraform, overwhelm in regular usage.  Whelm means to be completely immersed or submerged.  It can mean to be hit by something and bowled over by it.  It can mean covered, its original Old English meaning. 

I have learned over the years what to expect in life so as not to be whelmed by too much anymore.  One gets better at anticipating what might be surprising at a earlier age.  Peoplewatching is like that too.  One gets to be a pretty good judge of character, just based on a few words or actions, so much so that, really,  only one person in all of life whelms me now, and I am whelmed over and over every time I think about or am near this person.  It's ok.  Life is really not worth living without this one's whelming presence over and over.  I don't use the word overwhelm right here because even though overwhelm has taken the place of whelm, for who knows what historical reason, it has an added semantic that takes it away from meaning the same as whelming over and over.

I am lying down tonight, completely whelmed with thoughts of that one... again and again... over and over.

Sacred path

I allow my mind to go down a sacred path pretty often these days.  The path is sacred because its scenes are the most special ones that have occurred in my lifetime .  Nothing else in my experience compares to these happenings, their places and sounds, the conversations that warm my heart.  They are so special, only the word sacred expresses how my heart and soul have been affected by them.  They give me the greatest pleasure a person can have.  They filled my life when they happened, and they fill my thoughts even now.  Without them I would wither.  If I I could go back in time and choose again which path to travel, I would choose the same path every single time.  If I could travel the path now, I would choose it without even hesitating because it would lead to the greatest enjoyment a person could ask for.

More is less

English has a saying: When all is said and done, there's always more said than done.

I know that the saying is aimed at how people say that things will get done and then they fall through on what needs getting done.  But, there is also an upside to the saying.  When people get peeved, they threaten with all kinds of epithets.  They don't really mean it though.  They threaten to sue, but they don't and won't.  Anyone in his/her right mind would not spend the money it takes to litigate an issue during the course of the 18-24 months it takes to go from start to finish with an attorney.  People say they will file complaints, and they might.  But by the time a complaint takes its course, much of the sting has been taken out of it.

Anymore, when I hear venomous speech, I will listen and acknowledge on the outside.  But on the inside I am yawning.  There's always more said than done.

Swish - a story of faith

Kobe Bryant is undoubtedly one of the best basketball players ever to play in the NBA.  He practices longer, plays harder, and extends himself more than most to win when the situation calls for it.  He is in the same company with Jordan, Johnson, Bird, Russell, and all the other greats who have played the game.

It was not just a really bad day today for Kobe as the Lakers hosted New Orleans; it was his worst day ever.  It had been since 2004 that he had gone a whole first half without scoring - this from a player that has led or has been close to leading the whole league in scoring over the last 13 years.  And it wasn't for lack of shooting that Kobe was scoreless.  He had tried two-footers and thirty-two-footers, but nothing had fallen.  The third quarter was not any better.  Finally, by the time the last two minutes of the game came around, Kobe had scored 2 baskets making him something like 2 for 20 attempts.

What a horrible, no-good day for Kobe.  But, that will not be how this game will be remembered.  This game will go down in the books as Kobe winning the game for the Lakers in the fading seconds of the game - like Jordan, Bird and all the greats did for their teams.  With 20 seconds to go in the game, and for the lead in the game, Kobe had the ball thrown to him with the possession clock winding down to 0.  He shot with great concentration as he had done on days when he was the game's leading scorer.  No hesitation and no doubting even though to this point he was having the worst shooting day of his NBA career.  The ball swished down the cords of the net - 3 points and the lead.  New Orleans had two subsequent shots to try to win, but failed.

There is no telling how many shots over the course of all his practices and all his games Kobe has taken.  But, even on his worst day, he felt comfortable in his shooting skin.   All the shots he had taken to that point paid off.  Without hesitation he took the jumper.  The mechanics of 30,000 shots kicked in.  It was automatic and perfect.  There was no strain, no adjustment, just comfortable, confident mechanics.  The game went in the books as Kobe winning the game with a last-second basket.

The last two years plus a little have been to me much like Kobe's game today.  They have had something huge missing from them.  I don't think time has run out yet for this period in my life.  I hope not, anyway.  I still go through the motions of shooting, that is, going to work and performing other duties as needed.  I reread a blog today that I had read a few months ago.  It ended with the word Faith.  That's certainly what I have, what I hold on to.  And it will be the empowering force behind the shot that puts life and happiness back into my soul before time expires.

A picture for my heart

Today I stood in the back yard.  It was late in the evening, just about dusk.  The scene was picturesque with the two rose bushes by the back stone fence showing their beauty of red velvet blooms.  The freshly budded trees around the yard and in the neighbors' yards showed a bare breeze, their leaves flickering ever so slightly.  It was quiet, serene, and reflective.  The grass was verdant green from the more than average rainfall that it has received.

That was also the picture in my heart.  I was in need of some warm thoughts.  So I brought to mind the scenes that gave me the effect of the sweet aroma filling my sense of smell from the roses, of the pleasing sight of the green leaves moving spirited by the breeze, of the grass sprigs thickening with the rising heat of spring.  Those scenes calmed me because of the refreshment they brought.  They planted anew the sounds of laughter and cheer, a glimpse once again of a smiling, welcome face, and the essence of the most life-giving spirit I have ever met.

I reentered the house after those moments in the back yard, but the scene, both the physical and the remembered, lasted on into the evening and night.

Showing proper regard

At least two languages in the world sport a female and male version of the language.  One of the languages is in northwestern South America, the other on a Polynesian island.  The male and female versions of these languages share some of the function words such as prepositions, articles, and semantic organization, but they have different content words carried by nouns and verbs.

We don't really have that in the United States, but there are some analogs.  Some words in English are spoken primarily by women.  Rarely would a male say, "wonderful, sweet, marvelous, cute, (although men less than 50 are more prone to say this word than men over 50), and lavender." In this latter case, men seem to stick to mainstream colors and shy from colors such as magenta and peaches and cream.  Women, on the other hand, steer clear of words like "slugged, smashed, pus, snuffed, and fecal" in favor of ameliorated terms.

Growing up male, then, or female partially determines which set of words are learned to be used and which are learned merely to understand.  Cross-gender conversations happen more often in the U.S. than anywhere else in the world, more than likely, just because of the values held in our culture.  As a result, frustration from cross-gender conversations abound.  Men and women have distinct, negative impressions of the other gender's speech.  A number of factors contribute to this idea, but having "male" and "female" words is certainly one contributor.  Savvy women and men know this and make adjustments in their speech when carrying on a cross-gender conversation.  At least they appear to "understand" rather than "condescend" to the way ideas are expressed.  They are usually richly rewarded for doing so.

Noticing underground activity

The Earth, like every living organism has all kinds of systems built into it that keep it changing.  The Earth's surface may look like it doesn't change much, but it is constantly changing, just at a speed that is slower than the life span of humans.  In fact, it would take about 30,000 years of humans to see quite a good number of the changes Earth undergoes.  No one saw the Mid-Atlantic Ridge form, and it's likely our species will be extinguished before we see it disappear.  But, the ridge is there now for us to see in all of its glory.  We can imagine what will happen and what has happened by watching the Ethiopian rift and Greenland rift on the surface.
 
We know from Tsunamis that plates on the Earth's surface on the ocean floor drop a foot or two.  We know from  caving what the forces of water and heat cause under the Earth.  We know from volcanic explosions of the pressurized plumes beneath the surface blasting molten rock over calderas.  We can see layers of rock jutting above ground to investigate what happened before it came to the surface.  We can see fern leaves and crocodile bones inside the Arctic Circle and understand that at some point that piece of land used to be located elsewhere.

National Geographic put together a documentary called Journey to the Center of the Earth in which its photographers and script writers logged what occurs between the surface and the core.  The documentary ended with the words, "It's what happens underground that ultimately causes what happens on the surface."  I think the Journey to the Center of the Earth is also the Journey to the Center of Human Beings.  What a great metaphor for the forces that are at work inside each of us.  And, it is so true that what happens at our core and other invisible points under our skin, like our mind, ultimately affects the emotions we have, the words we speak, and the actions we take.

So I watch for people's tsunamis, earthquakes, and volcanic explosions (or even minor seismic activity) to know how to react to it.  It helps in staying alive a lot of times.

Escaping the big quid pro quo

When I was in managerial positions, I used to hear "I owe you," frequently.  Most of the time people were asking for help that didn't take long or that fell within the purview of some talent someone had that (s)he didn't mind performing.  Those were petty (but meaningful to others) tasks for the most part.

But, I knew instantly when someone meant, because they rarely voiced it, that I would owe them something rather magnanimous if I continued with a request for their help.  The quid pro quo was more than usual.  I would rather do it myself incompletely than to get into those kinds of tit for tats.  And even though I have been able to avoid those kinds of exchanges, I continue to see the more than usual tradeoffs exchanged.  It ranges from finding and giving information that is not known (and shouldn't be known) to sexual favors for fulfillment of ambition.

I don't know why betrayal ranks as number 1 for me on the unforgivable sin list, but it does.  Unusual quid pro quos, that is, the ones that go beyond gladly getting somebody out of a small fix or gladly giving up time to help with a task, bother me severely because they are a form of betrayal.  I find myself actually despising the ones who get caught up in them, thinking that I need to be a part of exposing them and causing them to move on or at least lose their grip on those who have succumbed to such exploitation.  When someone lies in a situation that causes harm, I like to bring any forensic ability I have to bear on exposing and causing equivalent harm on them.  But, quid pro quos are different.  I see them, but am most of the time left without any means to cause a change or to expose.  I am left to loathe. 

I will work on turning the energy I give to loathing those who continue their quid pro quos for exploitation into more productive actions... not easy for me, but I will work on it.  I need to take myself from the arena where it happens and focus on what I can productively do.

Time to add

One of my favorite movies of all time is Contact.  That's because I am fascinated with receiving communication from a world other than Earth.  It actually happens in the movie.  Tonight I am watching a Science channel documentary on what would happen if scientists at the SETI Institute received messages from "out there."  It is very interesting to see the reactions of people to the idea that we have been communicated with.  I hope the follow-up episode will be about the actual communication.  In the meantime it doesn't hurt to speculate.

When it does happen, I can't wait to add a new language to my repertoire.

Comfort, calm

I have been in a few storms that blow through strongly, toss things around, then bluster their way into the distance.  I have been through some rain events as well, rain that settles in and stays for a couple of days.

But, the rain tonight is wave-like and has lasted 6 solid hours already with at least 5 more hours on the way according to radar.  It's not a blustery storm, not a stalled front, and not one of those dreaded electric storms with streak lightning filling the sky.  Along with the steady rain, the lightning has also been steadily illuminating the clouds that rumble in the wake of  quickly disappearing lightning.  Not the streak lightning, but the nightlight flashes that cast light across sky behind the clouds.  This is the kind of rain I remember well from my adolescent years.

This kind of a rain event is so comforting.  It makes me feel as if all is well with the world.  I guess the interaction of heaven and earth in this way makes me feel that the wold is as it should be.  I know otherwise.  I have a very good friend that is living through rough times at the moment.  I, myself, am waiting on dawn to began to break up the darkness.  I have another friend suffering from the cancer that is taking a toll on her entire body.  Even another friend is living across the ocean right now in the middle of feuding tribes trying to sort out whether Islam or Christianity should be the religion of the country.

But for this small moment in time, surrounded by such a duration of comforting, familiar splashes on the window pane, iterations of gentle rumbling in the sky, and flashes of quilted light brilliantly showing the ground below, I am comforted and given additional energy to make it through till dawn.  And for my very good friend, and other friends who face their own black enemies, I wish the same momentary comfort in the middle of their dark fights and the energy to make it till those storms subside and calm is restored.

A lament

The joke goes:
Two people were engaged in conversation.  They were exchanging information about each other: where each had gone to school, who the family members were, etc.  To end the conversation, one asked the other "Where are you from."  The second person snidely remarked, "I'm from a place where they don't end sentences with a preposition."

Well, who's wrong here?  You could say that a Latinate rule exists in English not to end a sentence in a preposition.  But that was Latin.  The grass roots of English syntax are from Anglo-Saxon.  Rules are a little different in that source.  Or you could say that historical linguistics doesn't matter.  The acceptable threshold of English usage of ending a sentence with a preposition is very clearly over 75% (closer to 98%).  What dictates a rule - history or usage?  Obviously usage.  So, the first person could have ended the conversation with "Sorry, you  must be speaking of that non-standard, Latin-based, 2% dialect called 'proper' English. Would you like to learn American English?"

Yesterday I was around a person who decided to join a religious denomination which required a covenant to be taken to be a member of that church in addition to the normal Christian creed so that he could be held accountable.  I don't even have words for such a surrender of personal freedom because he doesn't have the discipline to trust himself to be a good person.

What I wouldn't give to be around a creative, efficient, giving, cheerful, free-spirited, consistent, tender-hearted, strong, smart, and open soul...  instead of those who keep this rule and that rule and a hundred thousand other rules...  who stifle others from thinking on their own...  who joylessly move through life robotically, emotionlessly...  who wear ankle-length skirts with tennis shoes...  What I wouldn't give.

Waiting on dawn

Every day ends in darkness.  Every night ends in light.  In life they are not exactly as equally measured  as units of time are.  But the cycle actually gives hope.  Good times are marked because we know they don't last forever.  On the other hand, horrors are somewhat mitigated because we know they will end.

I want to remind myself of this since tonight it is midnight, no matter what the time on the clock reads.  I will certainly be ready for the first rays of light signaling the end of this particular night and the hope that lies ahead.

A very young heart

I saw a billboard today advertising heart care.  It showed a man with a gray beard smiling and enjoying himself with his adult children.  Across the middle of the sign in very large letters was the question, "How old is your heart?"  I suppose your heart could age more quickly or less quickly than other parts of your body or your body as a whole.  If it pumps harder for a longer period of time, such as the heart of a high blood pressure patient or one of a person on the way to having a stroke, then it is older.  If it pumps with no back pressure built up in it, then it would be a younger heart.  I get the sign.

But there may be a second way the heart ages.  Life is long for those who are alone or for those who don't experience the sheer enjoyment of meeting the love of their lifetime.  People sometimes opt for going the journey through life alone.  A few are quite adjusted to life alone and seem to manage life with joy and aplomb, but many more don't adjust and wither away joylessly.  For those who decide to choose a companion, life can still age them because they pick companions for all kinds of reasons.  One of the reasons is because (s)he has met his/her one true love.  But, there are many reasons, some for convenience, some for money, some for mere companionship or out of arrangement, some for partial compatibility.  There is probably a continuum for these reasons to fall across, but the one that keeps the heart the youngest has to be the one in which the heart enjoys the pure moments of just being with one who makes her/him happy, just because of who the companion is.

That means, then, that there are several different answers to the question on the billboard, "How old is your heart?"  One answer would be to measure blood pressure or cholesterol levels frequently.  Another is to see if you're living life alone or with someone who only gives a partial amount of enjoyment.  But for someone whose heart has been with the one who gives sheer enjoyment of life, the answer is that her/his heart is young.

After I passed the sign, I smiled, knowing my heart would last a long, long time because it was so very young.

Heart rain

Tonight the weather forecast predicted that there would be 100% coverage of rain on Thursday evening.  That's rare.  A person usually sees the percentage of the area that could be hit by rain storms at less than 100 because rain is spotty.  Some pockets of air are less dense than others even along a front.

Life's events are weather events.   Attitudes, mores, cultural values, educational levels, religious views, and a sundry amount of other influences make any one prediction of how people will act less than 100%.  It's rare to get people's actions to be 100% behind any one belief or event.

But, I do know that when one's heart has been touched by someone, coverage of refreshing thoughts and enraptured moments is 100%.  They are rain full of vitality, happening every day.