Love Means

 Rev. Joe, would you put this on your site somewhere?

“To love means not imposing our own powers on your fellow man but to offer him your help.  And if he refuses it , to be proud that he can do it on his own strength.

To love means to live without fear and anxieties about tomorrow.
 
To love means never to be afraid of the windstorms of life: Should you shield the canyons from the windstorms you would never so the true beauty of their carvings.

Expose yourself to these windstorms, so that at the end of your days, you will be proud to look in the mirror and see the carvings in your own canyon. ”

Elizabeth Kubler-Ross and Robin W

Stewed Dog, Wedding Style

A traditional Filipino recipe.

First, kill a medium-sized dog, then burn off the fur over a hot fire. Carefully remove the skin while still warm and set aside for later (may be used in other recipes). Cut meat into 1” cubes. Marinate meat in mixture of vinegar, peppercorn, salt and garlic for 2 hours. Fry meat in oil using a large wok over an open fire, and then add onions and chopped pineapple and sauté until tender. Pour in tomato sauce and boiling water, add green pepper, bay leaf, and Tabasco. Cover and simmer over warm coals until meat is tender. Blend in purée of dog’s liver and cook for additional 5 – 7 minutes.

From the book Eating Animals by Safran Foer

Hanging from the back bumper

It is probably not entirely fair to say that Saturday Night Live patterned their character, The Church Lady, after my mother.  It, however, is not too far from the truth.  She is prim and proper almost to the point of being prudish.  Knead in an equal amount of operatic diva.  Sprinkle moderately with essence of OCD, being sure the flakes are evenly spaced.   Add a dash or two of Tabasco sauce.  That would be my mother.

A year or so ago my cousin died and somehow I ended up driving my mother alone to the funeral.  We took her car as she likes neither of my vehicles.  She complains about having to climb into my F-150 pickup.  Alternatively, she gripes about the lowness and smallness of my MX-5 sports car.  So we took her car with me driving.  And of course she has this whole set of rules Continue reading “Hanging from the back bumper”

Saturday at the flea market

I was at the local flea market last Saturday.  I would not want to go too often, but to pass the occasional afternoon, it is entertaining. 

First there are the vendors.  They were selling everything from self made crafts to junk imported from China.  At least in the south you can always count on a vendor or two pushing swords, knives, and other assorted marital aids.  This market had a vendor pushing an item that looked like a cross between brass knuckles and a taser. I’m still trying to figure out the swords. It has been a long time since I have heard of anyone dueling Continue reading “Saturday at the flea market”

Michelangelo’s David

david_statue_webI have always enjoyed the statue of David by Michelangelo.  There are a number of reasons for this. First, it is a wonderful expression of human achievement by a master at the top of his game.  The detail is phenomenal and exquisite.  The statue looks like with just slightest of breathes he could come alive and jump down from the pedestal to begin a full human life. 

Besides being a beautiful piece of art, it depicts a beautiful human.  It appears that the granite “DNA” has co-mingled to form the ideal male.  While not gay it is certainly a male body that I appreciate and enjoy observing.

There is also a more mundane reason I like the statue.  The male sexual organ as usually depicted and photographed would make Man-O-War blush with feelings of inadequacies.  As a young man this wonderful statue made me feel “normal”.  Well at least in that one regard.

There is a Jamaican man that works where I do. For the most part he is very understandable, but occasionally his accent and my mish mash of accents makes communication a little less than optimal.  He came around one day asking if I knew the artist Dávid.  Not being entirely sure what he had just said, I asked him if he was talking about Michelangelo’s statute of David.  He looked at me funny for a minute then said, “You mean the one with the small penis?” 

Make room in your stall , Man-O-War,  I’m coming in blushing from head to toe.

The Garbage Man

Many moons ago when I lived in Ft. Smith, AR I went out to the golf course to play a round.  At Ben Geren if you do this they tend to group singles together.  This works out nicely for several reasons.  It keeps the pace of play better.  You can get more folks on the golf course.  Singles are not frustrated waiting on foursomes.  It also has the added benefit of allowing you to play with folks with which you might not otherwise share a round of golf. 

On this particular day they paired me with a young man, a twenty something.  He was obviously working class.  I put myself in that category, but white collar.  Continue reading “The Garbage Man”