Half cocked

My newspaper did not come Saturday. I wondered if it had anything to do with the envelope that came in the paper a week or so ago with a piece of paper announcing I had a new delivery person. Surely they wouldn't cut me off.

Then Sunday, I got half of a paper. Sometimes they throw the paper in two pieces so maybe the second half was on the way. Then when I walked Bear, I saw other people had the whole paper. This made two days in a row without a paper.

I thought about how I have lived here 15 years and have subscribed to the newspaper the entire time. Now, some clown is going to cut me off with some sort of hardball tactic to get payment.

The note said nothing about how much I owed or when I needed to send the money. The longer I walked Bear, the madder I got. I was ready for the guy. If he gave me any trouble about not paying, I was going to tell him how I have been a good customer for 15 years and that if he was going to be such a tight ass, I would cancel the paper. Then I would call the newspaper and let them know what a bad carrier he was.

Yes sir, I was ready to unload.

I called the man up and he answered the phone. Then a little girl picked up the phone, "Hellooooo." He told her to hang up, "Put the phone down honey." Then another littler girl picked up the phone, "Helloooooooo." I guess picking up the phone was still fun for them. After about a minute, he got his daughters off of the phone and we were talking.

I told him who I was and where I lived. I said I hadn't gotten the paper for two days and that I wondered if I had been cut off. He told me I wasn't cut off, but he gets confused on our street. It seems that he is throwing the papers from a recorded tape.

Long story short, he ran another newspaper right out and apologized. Me, my face turned into a jackass for a moment and I said a few eeeeaaawww's like on the cartoons.

It is funny how you can build things up in your mind. It is important to remain calm and give the other party the benefit of the doubt. Let them actually do what you are accusing them of doing.

It reminds me of the guy who had a flat tire out in the country in the middle of the night. He opened the trunk and discovered he had no jack. Scratching his head with his finger, he remembered there was a farm house a mile or so back down the road.

The man set off walking to the house to ask for a jack. As he walked, he figured the people in the house would not be thrilled about being awoken so late at night. They might even be mad. But what was he to do? It wasn't his fault he had a flat tire. They should be more willing to help folks in need anyway. He had thoughts like these until he got to the house.

He knocked on the door a few times until finally a light came on and a sleepy eyed man opened the door. "Yes, may I help you," said the farm house resident. The man replied, "I didn't want to borrow your damn jack anyway." He then turned and walked away.

Monday is a day a lot of folks go off half-cocked. A word to the wise is sufficient.

Until the next time
John Strain

I bookmarked this site

The Story Bin

This website contains my kind of writing. I use a lot of this stuff in groups to get discussions going. It is the wholesome stuff I believe built this country and made it great. It is the kind of stuff that makes us great.

You may not become rich and famous by applying these truths and principles, but your chances of becoming happy will be greatly enhanced.

Here is one selection. Does this remind you of your own mother?

Mean Moms
Someday when my children are old enough to understand the logic that motivates a parent, I will tell them:

I loved you enough to ask where you were going, with whom, and what time you would be home.

I loved you enough to insist that you save your money and buy a bike for yourself even though we could afford to buy one for you.

I loved you enough to be silent and let you discover that your new best friend was a creep.

I loved you enough to make you go pay for the bubble gum you had taken and tell the clerk, "I stole this yesterday and want to pay for it."

I loved you enough to stand over you for two hours while you cleaned your room, a job that should have taken 15 minutes.

I loved you enough to let you see anger, disappointment and tears in my eyes. Children must learn that their parents aren't perfect.

I loved you enough to let you assume the responsibility for your actions even when the penalties were so harsh they almost broke my heart.

But most of all, I loved you enough to say NO when I knew you would hate me for it.

Those were the most difficult battles of all. I'm glad I won them, because in the end you won, too. And someday when your children are old enough to understand the logic that motivates parents, you will tell them:

Was your Mom mean? I know mine was. We had the meanest mother in the whole world! While other kids ate candy for breakfast, we had to have cereal, eggs, and toast. When others had a Pepsi and a Twinkie for lunch, we had to eat sandwiches. And you can guess our mother fixed us a dinner that was different from what other kids had, too.

Mother insisted on knowing where we were at all times. You'd think we were convicts in a prison. She had to know who our friends were, and what we were doing with them. She insisted that if we said we would be gone for an hour, we would be gone for an hour or less. We were ashamed to admit it, but she had the nerve to break the Child Labor Laws by making us work. We had to wash the dishes, make the beds, learn to cook, vacuum the floor, do laundry, empty the trash and all sorts of cruel jobs. I think she would lie awake at night thinking of more things for us to do.

She always insisted on us telling the truth the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. By the time we were teenagers, she could read our minds.

Then, life was really tough! Mother wouldn't let our friends just honk the horn when they drove up. They had to come up to the door so she could meet them. While everyone else could date when they were 12 or 13, we had to wait until we were 16.
Because of our mother we missed out on lots of things other kids experienced.

None of us have ever been caught shoplifting, vandalizing other's property or ever arrested for any crime. It was all her fault.
Now that we have left home, we are all educated, honest adults. We are doing our best to be mean parents just like Mom was.
I think that is what's wrong with the world today. It just doesn't have enough mean moms.

Check out The Story Bin yourself.

Until the next time
John Strain

Of chocolate and Sneetches

Text of the Sneetches

Link to the book by Dr. Seuss

T-Shirt website: I'm Not Chocolate Dot Com

T-Shirt website: Mayor Wonka Dot Com

Dr. Seuss was a prophet and I love America.

Let's review.

Martin Luther King Day provided the backdrop for politicians to pander to black audiences. The constant here is "politicians pander shamelessly." Of course we know about Mayor Nagin's "chocolate city" comments. Hillary Clinton referenced the "plantation" to her black audience.

The talk shows went wild. Republicans attacked with "gotcha," Democrats fired back with "no sir," and the water coolers actively echoed it all.

Almost overnight websites sprung up to cash in. Maybe a little too quick. My job places me with real paranoid people and maybe it's contagious, but what if?

What if old Ray had this all planned? What if this is one of his schemes to bring money into New Orleans? That would make him pretty smart and self-sacrificing. He had those websites ready because he knew if he said the chocolate stuff, people would be all upset, then they would joke about it, and maybe even spend money on it. Yip, pretty smart.

I have to admit and you can scroll down and read for yourself, but I jumped all over his "chocolate" statements. I, of course, took the high road. I felt the same way about what Hillary said, but someone out there saw it as an opportunity to cash in.

I love this country.

That is why I will never be rich. I look at events and think and write down my opinion. I try to encourage better, nicer behavior. But other people see the opportunity to gain financially. Sometimes I wish I could do that. I admire their business sense and I admire their ability to let the BS wash over them and flow out green.

Dr. Seuss summed all of this up in his story about the Sneetches. I loved that book as a little boy, but as a man, I can appreciate its message.

Read the full text version. I have the link at the top of this post.

Basically, there were two kinds of Sneetches. Some had stars on their bellies and some did not. There was prejudice - like with blacks and whites. A huckster comes to town with a machine that puts stars on bellies. They are all alike. Then he adjusts the machine to take the stars off of the bellies. They are diffeerent again.

This goes on and on until the Sneetches forget if they had stars on their bellies or if they did not. The huckster drives away with all of the money and the Sneetches are confused. You just can't teach a Sneetch.

But I am an optimist. Even though we are all Sneetches ourselves, I believe we can learn, the question is will we. Well, will we?

Until the next time
John Strain

I know

We all hold beliefs. They encompass our opinions and attitudes about race, religion, nationality, and everything about everything. Are they true? How do you know?

Some of your beliefs were handed down to you from your parents, relatives, and others who impressed you as you grew. Before you could think and form opinions; opinions were given to you.

Other beliefs are a result of experiences you had. Maybe you were traumatized, maybe you were deprived, and maybe your experiences were neutral. Things you experienced at age 6 may still haunt you today.

Your education exposed you to things. Where you went to school, who taught you, and what you studied has shaped you. You were grouped with a certain kind of person because of those parameters.

Who you spent time with growing up has influenced you. Your discussions about life were bounced off of them and they responded to your statements uniquely.

There are hundreds of variables contributing to who we are and what we think, but that is only part of what forms our beliefs. This is only the foundation on which our adult beliefs are formed.

We continue to absorb information as adults. Our sources vary and each individual ascribes different weight to each conduit of data. This data is filtered through the foundational structure. A man living in Louisiana who grew up in the midwest may have one perspective and a woman in California, born and raised will have another perspective.

Each newspaper article you read, every news program you watch, books, and movies all seep through our many filters to form our opinion(s).

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What do you believe? Are you pessimistic about people? Do you think the United States is going to hell in a hand basket? Are you angry, sad, depressed, scared, frustrated, anxious, and/or apathetic? Are you suspicious of folks? Do you lack trust and hope? Why? What information makes you feel that way? How do you know that your beliefs are true? Because if these beliefs are not true, maybe you could trust, have hope, be optimistic, less angry, and happy.

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Here is my advice on how to sift through information and ascribe weight to it:
1. Take the bad news you read in the newspaper and see on TV with a grain of salt. Anytime I have had first hand knowledge about something that hit the papers or television, it was usually misreported. Before you get all emotional, verify the facts. There is such a push with news agencies to be first, they don't worry so much about being accurate.

2. Know your own triggers and pet peeves and don't react to them. Some of our ingrained prejudices and opinions are prone to explode with just a bit of news. We jump to conclusions, rant and rave, and get all upset almost instantly. Don't react so quickly. Take your time, think more and feel less. You can always fly off the handle later if that is what you really want to do.

3. Seek to experience things first hand. It is better to experience the mountain top view than it is to hear someone describe it. Some people like to embellish and stir the pot. Don't take the bait.

4. Give people the benefit of the doubt. Allow them to interpret themselves. Personally, I hate to be told what I meant. Someone can tell me how they understood what I said, but they can not tell me what I was thinking and what my intentions were.

5. Be as open to good news as you are to bad news. Have you ever told someone good news about someone and they didn't believe you? Now think about how people react when you say something bad about someone. Usually, it is accepted straight away.

Good news example:
Person 1: "Hey did you hear about Donna, she is going to have a baby."
Person 2: "I wonder if she knows who the father is?"

Bad news example:
Person 1: "Poor Bill got fired, did you hear?"
Person 2: "Yeah, he probably deserved it."

---

I was watching the Today Show Wednesday and there was a story about this guy. He is walking to New York from San Diego. He started out to lose weight, but along the way, he has been changed - spiritually.

He talked about meeting good people and being surprised by the goodness of folks along the way. He experienced the kindness of strangers many times.

Another person learned the same thing about America when he walked across the country. Peter Jenkins wrote several books about his experiences and they changed him for the better.

If you think people are jerks and they are only out for themselves, I would contend that maybe you need to get out more. Certainly there are assholes out there, but don't judge the entire human race because someone cuts you off in traffic.

The good folks don't get the press, but they are there. I see them at races. I bump into them when I am walking Bear. I work with them and take care of them in my job. My mother reminded me of something Abraham Lincoln once said. He commented about some individual and said, "I don't like him, I must get to know him better." That is true. if we don't like someone, there is a good chance we probably don't know them very well. I have had poor opinions of folks only to learn admiration and respect for them after learning more about them.

We all just need a little more understanding. It would do us all some good.

Until the next time
John Strain

Bear goes to the vet

Hi everyone, it's me Bear. I spent the day at the vet on Tuesday. It all started when mom found some blood on the floor where I sleep. Daddy thought I cut my foot, but a check of my paws showed nothing wrong.

The next morning, mom found more drops of blood on the floor. This time dad looked in my butt, then he rolled me over on my back and looked at my belly. When I heard mom and dad say uh oh, I knew they found something.

They said I had blood dripping out of my weenie. I got excited when daddy put my blanket in the back seat of the car. I like to take rides, but it wasn't a fun ride today. We went to the vet. Nothing good ever happens at the vet.

I got left at the vets office and Mr. Rusty did all kinds of things to me. I had my bladder x rayed, I got stuck with a needle, and the vet stuck his finger in my butt. It's funny, ever since he did that, I have had a strange urge to watch Brokeback Mountain.

Anyway, the vet said I had benign prostatic hyperplasia. That means my prostate got big. I have to take antibiotics. Mr. Rusty gave me a shot too.

My dad was reading the patient information sheet the vet gave him and this line appears in it: "The best treatment for benign prostatic hyperplasia is castration." I'm too young for all of this. I want to have puppies someday. Sigh.

Dad said he would do everything he could to save my nads. I hope I don't have to go under the knife.

So if you would, fold your paws and say a prayer that I get to keep my doghood. It would mean a lot to me.

Until the next time
Bear