Stand Up

There was a story circulating during the 70's about a group of Christians at a worship service in a foreign country hostile to Christianity. The story goes some armed men walked into the church service and ordered anyone professing Jesus Christ to stand up against the wall. All others were free to go. Some people took their place against the wall and others left the church. As the Christians stood still awaiting execution, the gunmen lowered their weapons and said, "We are Christians too and we wanted to know who the real Christians were in this place."

In the United States of America, Christians have enjoyed an existence free of persecution. These days, Christians are not threatened with bodily harm or death, but they are under attack from secularists who are seeking to erase all public evidence of Christianity.

So what is a Christian to do? In the face of court cases to stop football teams from praying before a game, attempts to remove the word God from the pledge of allegiance, and the abolition of the word Christmas, I am getting riled up.

I am a tolerant individual. My philosophy is, if you like it fine, but I require the same courtesy. I am open minded and entertain complaints just in case something I am doing is cramping someone else's style. However, I have my limits and they have been reached.

The PC police seek to intimidate and manipulate through threats of law suits, condescension, and embarrassment. They have been successful because people in authority and leadership positions have caved to such threats. It is time to "stand up against the wall."

Be proud of your beliefs, including the ones some people do not feel are politically correct. We are not sheep and we do not all think and believe the same thing. I respect the right of someone to have no religion and I will exercise my right to have a religion. Furthermore, we can all be friends.

Somewhere along the line, sides were drawn and people began to be defined by their beliefs. News flash! We can still be civil to people who differ from us. We have more in common with people than we do not have in common.

If someone does not agree with homosexuality, it does not mean they have to hate homosexuals. Homosexuality is one aspect of a person. The opposite is also true. Just because you agree with homosexuality does not mean you will like all homosexuals. The point is, keep an open mind and an open dialogue. Don't take yourself, others, and the world too seriously. Lighten up. Be tolerant. Show kindness. Do all of these things and "stand up" for your own beliefs and values.

We are in a struggle for diversity so hold onto your beliefs, and stand up for them.

Until the next time
John Strain

1700 Miles

Since January 1, 2005 I have run 1700 miles in just over nine days of total running time. That figures out to about 7 minutes and 46 seconds per mile. I could have run to Los Angeles, Maine, New York, Boston, or even Cuba. To set out on a 1700 mile journey would seem daunting, but put in a few miles a day and it is doable in less than a year.

Runners are all about statistics. When I run, I occupy my mind with math problems. I am figuring miles run, miles to run, pace per mile, and predicting times along the way.

This coming Saturday I will be running the Baton Rouge Beach Marathon. Last year, I qualified for the Boston Marathon at this race, so it will always hold a soft spot in my heart.

I would like to see how many miles I have run since 1976. I haven't kept consistent records though. I am confident that I have run at least 25,000 in those 29 years. That would be one lap around the world. At my present rate, it will take me about 15 years to make one lap around the world.

But for now, it is bedtime. I need some rest if I am going to work at running around the world tomorrow.

Until the next time
John Strain

Post Katrina New Orleans

New Orleans Photos - Katrina Damage

“Pictures just don’t do it justice.” I have heard this phrase uttered numerous times referring to the damage of Hurricane Katrina. Now, I know what they mean. A photo gives you boundaries. You see the damage of one house or one tree, but to be there is to grasp the scale of the destruction.

Imagine driving down a neighborhood street in your town. Now take away all of the people. Imagine the houses without windows, piles of debris in the yards and on the curbs. As you continue to imagine, destroy all of the landscaping by either uprooting it in your mind or by turning it brown the color of death. Now take away all of the green and replace it with the color of gray river mud.

Continue to imagine trees leaning on houses or lying on top of them. In your mind’s eye, you will see messages written on the houses telling FEMA, insurance companies, or inquiring friends where the former residents may now be reached. Other markings were from the initial sweeps of rescue workers and say if anyone was rescued there or how many bodies were found.

On the neutral grounds, mounds of damaged furniture and goods are piled awaiting removal to places where the mounds are even bigger. Now imagine this scene to cover one block, and another block, and imagine the destruction to engulf 80% of your entire town. You are beginning to understand what New Orleans is like post Katrina.

The devastation is massive; its scope is amazing and defies description.

There is some activity, but on a small scale. One in twenty homes have someone working in them. People dragging things to the street, sifting through debris, and hauling sheetrock and carpeting out of the house is the main activity. Poignant scenes of folks holding a possession reclaimed or just sitting on the porch of a destroyed home stir compassion from passers by.

Block after block after block, the damage and ruin goes on. To say it is going to take a long time to rebuild New Orleans is a misleading statement. New Orleans will never be the way it was or rebuilt. It will be, as they say, a new New Orleans.

The French Quarter seems very much the same; with the exception of the parking lot we normally frequent is now a FEMA tent city. Bars and restaurants are open. Loud music wafts out of various places and mingles with the normal sounds of the French Quarter revelry. Large trucks, rescue vehicles, and police cars from all over the country replace the normal traffic.

As night fell, it was obvious where power was and was not. Once just north of the Central Business District, the lights were out. There were some streetlights, but only along main thoroughfares. Power cannot go to neighborhoods until electricians clear a home for hook up. In most cases, this is not possible because of the damage.

New Orleans is not one story of a hurricane and subsequent flood. It is at least 460,000 individual stories. Everyone was affected differently. Some people are fine, some lost it all, and there is a range of stories in between.

I wonder where everyone went? I know many are in the surrounding communities. St. Tammany Parish where I live has grown by 40,000 to 50,000 since the hurricane. Baton Rouge has almost doubled in size and is now the largest metropolitan area in the state. Many sought refuge in Texas and there are evacuees in all 50 states.

Each person has decisions to make about what to do. It will depend on whether or not they were renting or owned a home. It will depend on whether they worked and if that job is still there. It will depend on what the government offers to help people in the affected area.

At any rate, this thing will be playing out for a long time. There will be casualties, but there is also opportunity. Those who wait for a handout or for the government to save them will be added to the casualty list while others with grit, determination, ambition, means, and steeled resolve will succeed. What happens will depend on the accumulation of 460,000 separate decisions.

It is a damn shame what happened to New Orleans; it is a damn shame.

Until the next time
John Strain

Going to New Orleans

Since the hurricane, I have not been to New Orleans. There has been plenty to keep me busy here in Covington, getting things back to normal. I didn't want to be a gawking sightseer out of respect for the folks who lost it all.

It has been three months now and there are parts of the city up and running while other parts are in the same state of devastation the storm wrought.

The zoo is open again and it is free this weekend, so we will go there. We will eat beignets and drink coffee at the Cafe Du Monde. We'll do what we can and look at what Katrina has done to the city.

Here is a link to a 27 second video of Bear riding in the boat Thanksgiving Day. If you have Quicktime, it should work fine.

Bear's Ride on the Tchefuncte River Thanksgiving Day

While today might sound fun for me, I know Bear will have his lip poked out, but I am about to take him on a looooong walk.

Enjoy the day folks!

Until the next time
John Strain

My big Thanksgiving

by Bear

Photos of Bear's Thanksgiving

Wow wee did I have a nice day. To start things off, mom and dad took me for a three-mile walk. It was real nice outside and it was fun getting to take a weekend length walk on a Thursday. Dad said it was a holiday called Thanksgiving. One thing I am thankful for is the long walk.

We went home and mom made biscuits and sausage. I got to eat a lot of sausage. I love meat. So another thing I am thankful for is good sausage.

I thought things would settle down, but dad called me outside again and me and him and LJ hooked LJ's boat to his truck and we went to the river where I swim and chase the tennis ball. I had never been in a boat before so at first, I just stood still with my feet spread way out so I wouldn't fall down.

After a while though, I got used to it and enjoyed the wind in my face and all of the new smells. I wanted to jump in the water and swim, but dad wouldn't let me until we got back to the dock.

At the dock, dad and LJ were trying to get the boat out of the water so I went ahead and swam. The water was a little cold, but it was fun. Dad and LJ threw the ball for me and I got a good workout.

Once back home, dad hosed me off to get the river water off of me and then he rubbed me with a big towel. I like that part becuase I can bury my head in that warm material and let dad dry me off.

I layed down to rest and dry off when mom said it was time to eat. She made lots of good food and I got to eat some too. It was so good.

After another little rest, mom and dad told me to get in the car for a ride. Dad said we were going to the hospital where he works to make some people happy. He called it "pet therapy." Dad said patients like to pet dogs and play with them and that makes them less depressed. I was excited to go and glad to help people if I could.

Mom and dad took me to the back of the unit and the patients came outside to see me. Some of them came right up to me and petted me. They even let me lick them in the face. I could tell a couple of them were a little scared of me, so I was extra gentle and soon they even petted me. One girl threw the ball for me and got real happy. She told my dad that she never got to have a dog when she was growing up. She said she liked me.

All of the people gave me compliments and petted me. They were real nice people. I guess dad was right. None of them seemed depressed to me.

I think it is fun helping people and I plan to go back to the hospital as much as I can.

Well that sums up my Thanksgiving. I had a lot of fun.

I hope your Thanksgiving was happy too.

Until the next time
Bear