Author: itoccurstocp

 

I don’t know, I can shake a stick at a lot.

You can beat a dead horse,

but I wouldn’t  bet on it.

You can ride a gravy train,

but don’t let it scald you,

and for God’s sakes, don’t add water.

It may not be your first rodeo,

but the bull you are on doesn’t care,

and odds are it ain’t his first.

Bear hunting with a branch is fine;

it is the bear finding with a branch that gets dicey.

It seems to me that hen’s teeth are about as plentiful as they need to be.

Granted, the latch on the outhouse door is handy,

but who opens an outhouse door without first knocking or calling out?

Is “y’all” the only amusing contraction?

Has anyone ever admitted to recently falling off a turnip truck;

or for that matter, has anyone ever seen a turnip truck?

That’s a lot of turnips.

But not more than I can shake a stick at.

“… continue to work out your salvation with fear and trembling….”  Philippians 12:2.

This, in and of itself, can be a bit intimidating.  What often gets lost in the “fear and trembling” part is what follows: “for it is God who works in you to will and to act according to his good purpose.”

God works in me.  That is, I am not in this alone – there is help!  This reflects the “partnership with God” that my friend Steve Kinney speaks of so often.  And that is the good news, really good news, ‘cause I can use that help, particularly when I start to thinking I don’t really need it and I got this covered on my own.

Lost and Found

Have you ever wandered around looking for a set of keys you had in your pocket,

a hat on your head, a phone in you hand?

I think my search for “enough” is like that –

I am spending an inordinate amount of time searching for something I already have.

“Be joyful though you have considered all the facts.”  Wendell Berry

I ran into this quote again from one of Berry’s poems and it made me laugh, again.  I mean, do I ever really have all the facts?  I cobble together a story based on my perception of almost always incomplete facts, tainted as it is by my predilections, then I layer that with an icing of supposition as to the future — all of which leaves me with, well, near fiction and an appreciation for Berry’s words.

I find the poetry of Charles Bukowski the right medicine for when I start to take life too seriously, … or not seriously enough.

the last song – Charles Bukowski

driving the freeway while

listening to the Country and Western boys

sing about a broken heart

and the honkytonk blues,

it seems that things just don’t work out

most of the time

and when they do it will be for a

short time

only.

well, that’s not news.

nothing’s news.

it’s the same old thing in

disguise.

only one thing comes without a

disguise and you only see it

once, or

maybe never.

like getting hit by a freight

train

makes us realize that all our

moaning about long lost girls

in gingham dresses

is not so important

after

all.

Photo taken of the Austin skyline a few years back — likely has some new buildings in it now.

“Having devoted the first half of my life to the dark, I feel obliged to revere any pinpoint of light now.”  Mary Karr

Indeed, those “pinpoints of light” are due reverence whenever or however they come.

It occurred to me today that life is like running a race when I don’t know the course, or for that matter, the distance.  But then, hell, we’re all in the same race.

As the year, and decade, winds to an end, the significance of time is prominently displayed.  Thus, this quote from T. H. Huxley settled in today:

“It is the customary fate of new truths to begin as heresies and end as superstitions.”

Indeed, it occurs to me that as humans we have this strange relationship with change and tradition.  That is, we, at some level, crave both.  So, on New Year’s Eve we’ll follow a long-standing tradition of ushering out a year (and a decade) while making resolutions about how we will change things going forward.

Which somehow leads me to this question — What “superstitions” are getting swept aside to make way for new truths?

Photo taken on the beach in Galveston