Blogdrive has changed it's WYSIWYG editor and I am just test-driving it right now.    So far it seems to be fairly similar to the old one, but I don't know, it has generated a lot of discussion in the Blogdrive help forums.  I have never understood, however, how people who are getting something free or on-the-cheap, can be so rude and vulgar when asking for help with it.  There is no reason for it. it is ¢¢-less.    But I digress.    You guys will be getting some Christmas pics and Birthday Pics (Yes it has been a year since Savannah was born!) and an update later on.  I just had to play with the new toys.

I can't figure out how to use the currently listening to, etc, yet, though.

Not being a believer in the “Committee of Three” doctrine, AKA “The Trinity,” or good ol’ three-in-one espoused by so many, I feel now is a good time to accurately explain what has gone on in human time and what happened on Christmas day, whenever you personally feel that was.  I celebrate it on December 25^th.  Before I begin, I know that a couple of caveats are in order.

 

First, many Trinitarians do not really believe in three gods, but have had the Godhead explained to them in this fashion for so long that they feel they MUST defend the Trinity at all costs even though the idea of three people being omnipotent, omniscient and omnipresent at the same time is not even logically possible and is scripturally unsound.  The Trinity is a misguided attempt by a Universal church that was solidified in 325 A.D. at the Council of Nicea, resulting in a document called “The Nicean Creed.”

 

Second, many people have never read the Bible for themselves all the way through, if at all, and therefore are not knowledgeable about what God has to say about himself.  “God is a Spirit: and they that worship him must worship him in spirit and in truth.”  This is the actual crux of the matter.  God, the Creator of all things, the Father of light, is an invisible Spirit.  A Holy Spirit.   Scriptures like, “Hear, O Israel: The LORD our God is one LORD”, “And the LORD shall be king over all the earth: in that day shall there be one LORD, and his name one.”  How about, “For unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given: and the government shall be upon his shoulder: and his name shall be called Wonderful, Counsellor, The mighty God, The everlasting Father, The Prince of Peace.  Of the increase of his government and peace there shall be no end, upon the throne of David, and upon his kingdom, to order it, and to establish it with judgment and with justice from henceforth even for ever. The zeal of the LORD of hosts will perform this.”?  It is this child’s coming, the child who is also called the Everlasting Father, that I want to tell you about.

 

“Have we not all one father? hath not one God created us?”  In the beginning God had a plan.  The plan was completely thought out and the Greek word “logos,” which is used in the New Testament Scriptures and translated “Word,” indicates that it was an integral part of His innermost being.  Logos, according to Strong’s, means, “something said (including the thought); by implication a topic (subject of discourse), also reasoning (the mental faculty) or motive; by extension a computation…”  It was a law He made unto Himself that he would enact and carry out by “His own counsel.”

 

As with any good plan, He made contingencies.  They were needed because this was going to include beings created in His own image that could choose for themselves what they wanted to do.  It would even be possible for them to make wrong choices.   Having the idea laid out completely in His mind, the plan was set and completed.  The universe was created by the Word of God.  He spoke and created everything.  The only thing He did not just speak into existence was man.  He took clay from the ground of the Earth and sculpted Adam.  Then the breath of God himself breathed life into the creature and “Man became a living soul.”  A conscious, sentient being with the capability to make decisions, similar to the animals in that he had a body of flesh, similar to the angels in that he had a spirit, different from both because he did not have to listen to either flesh or spirit.  He was free to do whatever he wanted.  His mate was created in a similarly unusual way.  Taken neither from a foot-bone to be a servant nor from a skull-bone to be a master and not created separately again from the clay but rather taken from the flesh and bone that covered the man’s heart and vital organs, a rib, she also was endowed with this decision-making capability called “The Soul.”  “Bone of my Bones, Flesh of my Flesh, she shall be called Woman.”

 

He placed the pair in a garden and they lived a perfect life and should have lived happily ever after.  Adam had received one commandment from God, which he passed on to Eve.  They were tempted and enticed by the commonest temptations that have plagued man for 6000 years, the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes and the pride of life.  Thus Adam sinned and by his sin, death entered into the world.  Work became the curse of man, pain in childbirth became the curse of woman and slithering on his belly in the dust became the curse of the serpent.  Just as when we make a rule for our children and they have to suffer the consequences if they don’t follow it (which is hard for us to do sometimes.  Sometimes it’s better not to make a rule if you are just going to cave in to feeling sorry for having to enforce it, but that’s for a different day.)  So God had to separate Himself from man.  “by one man sin entered into the world, and death by sin; and so death passed upon all men, for that all have sinned”

 

A blood sacrifice was made and God gave long coats of animal skins to them for a covering and they were banished from the garden.  The blood of animals could not pay for what man had done, however, but did allow for the rolling ahead of people’s sins to the next year.  Some animals and items were acceptable to God for such a sacrifice from Cain and Abel’s time, through Noah, to Abraham, Isaac and Jacob and finally through Moses, who spoke with God and received direct and exact instructions for the carrying out of sacrifices.  Throughout the Mosaic Law there is a recurring theme that the sacrifice must be one of only certain types of animals and must be the best, most perfect specimen that the person offering the sacrifice could find.  But no lamb, no matter how perfect, no scapegoat, no matter how pure, no ox, no matter how fine, could really pay for what Adam had done, but they could buy time.  Rolling on year after year.

 

The only way to redeem (buy back) mankind and reinstate the communion with God would be by an ultimate sacrifice.  The LORD had not required his people to sacrifice their children because there was not anyone that was born perfectly righteous and holy.  To pay the price would require something totally different.  As Abraham had said to Isaac, God would provide himself a lamb.  “Therefore the Lord himself shall give you a sign; Behold, a virgin shall conceive, and bear a son, and shall call his name Immanuel.”  The virgin could conceive because the power of the Most High God created within her an egg that was fertilized by his Spirit and not the seed of Adam.  This nonviable tissue mass, er, this embryo was both God and man at the same time.  The almighty, omnipresent, omniscient and invisible God came and lived among his creation as one of them.  By being born without the seed of sin, he would have the opportunity to live his life as a man without sin and thus be able to sacrifice himself on behalf of mankind by his own choice.  As God, he would be able to heal the sick and raise the dead, even raising Himself after three days.  He had to live perfectly as a human being and do the will of God completely.  You cannot look at God, He is invisible, but you can see Him in the face of His son, Jesus Christ, who is the “express image of His glory.”  “Express image” here is the Greek word, “charakter,” a graver (the tool or the person), that is, (by implication) engraving ([“character”], the figure stamped, that is, an exact copy or [figuratively] representation):—express image.

 

So, God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.  He was in the world, and the world was made by him, and the world knew him not…And the Word was made flesh, and dwelt among us, (and we beheld his glory, the glory as of the only begotten of the Father,) full of grace and truth.

 

The WORD, the logos, the thought/idea/computation/plan/motivation came and suffered every temptation that man can suffer, the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eyes and the pride of life.  Born to a poor, insignificant family, even though both Mother and Stepfather were direct-line descendents of King David, in a stable, which was little more than a cave behind the inn, wrapped in barn rags and laid in the trough the oxen ate from.  His family was caused to flee to Egypt to escape a killer, and they returned to their little village where he grew up, always resisting temptation, knowing it was all up to him.  As a man, he prayed often, many times all night long and, having subdued his flesh to the Spirit, did many mighty and compassionate works as God, healing and saving and forgiving.  Then, this innocent man gave his life as the supreme sacrifice, fulfilling all that was needed and taking on every sin that could ever be conceived.  Since God cannot sin and cannot abide sin, this innocent man, who was God, was forsaken in his hour of need to die alone, hanging between heaven and earth.  When he cried out with a loud voice, “It is finished!” as the priests under the Mosaic Law did when the sacrifice was completely consumed, the veil in the temple, which had kept people from entering the presence of God, was ripped from top to bottom as the sacrifice was completed.

 

Death could not hold him, however, since he had no sin and now we can enter into the presence of almighty God, who came and lived among us as a man.  “For there is one God, and one mediator between God and men, the man Christ Jesus…”  “Neither is there salvation in any other: for there is none other name under heaven given among men, whereby we must be saved.”  He promised his followers then, “Even the Spirit of truth; whom the world cannot receive, because it seeth him not, neither knoweth him: but ye know him; for he dwelleth with you, and shall be in you.”  His Ghost (the spirit of a dead person that has come back) returned on the day of Pentecost and, since the price had been paid for man’s redemption, was able to fill anyone that wanted it.  “Beloved, now are we the sons of God…” except that we are not perfect, but purchased.

 

The Good Book says (and I have to memorize this because I am going to be the angel…stop laughing…it’s acting…I am going to be the angel in our Christmas program, Dec 18 at 10 am), “Fear not: for, behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be to all people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Christ the Lord. And this shall be a sign unto you; Ye shall find the babe wrapped in swaddling clothes, lying in a manger.”

Well, first of all, I have to say that I am a little disappointed in the response to the Red Kettle group.  No donations and no one joining.  I guess I’ll e-mail each one individually and remind you again about it.  I would love to see some of the higher-traffic blogs.  *sigh*

 

Why do people get so mad about a little baby who was born in a barn and has a birthday celebration in a country that has his Dad’s name on their money and He can’t be included in the festivities!  No matter what your belief system is, if you celebrate Christmas at all, then you have to acknowledge that, for whatever reason, the kid that was born in the barn was some kind of a big deal.  Whether you only relegate him to the status of an unusual philosopher or know that the fact is the very Creator of the universe came to earth and dwelt among us as both God and man, how do you dare to think that you can have a parade in his celebration and exclude a float that depicts the circumstances of his birth?

 

I hadn’t planned on going off on this tangent just yet, but I get really frustrated with our politically correct society.  I don’t remember if I ever told you guys this, but I grew up in a religion that doesn’t celebrate any holidays, especially birthdays and Christmas.  I can go on and on explaining how the Judean winters are too cold in December and how the yule log and the Christmas tree are pagan symbols and, to hear them tell it, idols.  I was 8 years old when I told my 3 year old brother about how we had just learned about all this and that next year we weren’t going to have a Christmas tree and there wasn’t no Santa and all so I suppose that someone will say, and I am somewhat inclined to agree that it is true, that now I overcompensate for that as an adult.  I am sure that’s true.  I am also sure of a few other things since God saved me.

 

Here’s the deal.  Here is how I have dealt with the subject of Christmas over the years.  First of all, ever since I came to Colorado Springs in 1988 and we decided that we were going to get back in church, we have attended regularly and taken our kids, who were 5 and 2 at the time, to Sunday School.  Children are best taught by you, by your example, what your religion is all about and how it is lived.  This became important in dealing with the “Santa issue.”  See, I have always felt that it is wrong for parents to lie to their children, but yet there is something so magical and fun about the whole thing that it is hard not to say something.

 

What I did about it was what ill-advised people, often without children of their own (The world is full of unmarried marriage counselors, isn’t it?) have said I should do about religion and that is to let them figure it out on their own.  I figured it was safer to do that with the Santa Claus sect than with the truth so I decided to let them figure out for themselves what they believed.  Over the years I guess that if I taught them anything about him, the teaching would probably be along the same lines as in “Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus.”  “Did you ever see fairies dancing on the lawn?  Of course not, but that’s no proof that they are not there.”  The CBC interviewed Virginia when she was a 74 year old grandmother.  But you see, just because I didn’t teach them about Santa doesn’t mean they didn’t develop their own belief system over time.  This was punctuated by their questions to me and my answering as truthfully as I could.  As they grew older, it was easier and easier to have conversations like, “How does Santa see you when you’re sleeping?”  “Well, is there anybody who knows everything and can see everything that we do?” “God.” “Is Santa Claus God?”  “No.”  Then I would just leave it sort of up in the air.  Later on we would do our nightly Bible reading as a family, which was something we used to try to do all the time, and somehow the topic of omniscience would come up.  See, we would read the Bible out loud as a family every evening we could, and talk about what we believed and actively worked on teaching them about that.

 

So, over time, we learned that it was Jesus’ birthday party and that, while Nicholas had been a nice man that had tried to do some good things, he didn’t die for our sins and heal and save people.  Santa became something more of an icon, except…well, strange things still happened.  There were years that we had no plans to have Christmas and presents, but somehow, Christmas morning, there they were anyway.  One year was truly bleak.  We really were not going to have much when, Christmas morning, there was a knock on the door and out front of the house were a couple of cars and a van and a pickup truck and these people, who I had never seen before and have never seen since, started carrying packages and boxes of food and wheeling in bikes and things, and when I asked them who they were and what group sent them, they just said they were some of Santa’s helpers.  “Santa sent us.”  That was maybe in 1992 or 3, I don’t remember for sure and Margaret is still sleeping.  How did these people know our situation?  Who had sent them?

 

That was when my son and I began developing our conspiracy theory that, even though there might not have been a 600 year old man living at the North Pole who could traverse the world faster than Superman, was it not possible that he had some descendant or descendants that thought someone should carry on the good works he had started?  Was there a club of some sort that you could become a member of and did it spread all over, networking around the world amongst adults and certain children?  Santa could not know everything, but, if your neighbor was one of his helpers, he could report back to Santa or, if your dad was the head of the local secret chapter of the club, he might get the report…Santa’s helpers could be…ANYONE!  Man or woman or boy or girl, they might know…

 

Another thing we did and still do is we take turns going shopping for other people in the family.  That way everyone gets to get in on some of the secrets of who’s getting what, and helping make the day special and full of surprises because even to this day there are presents that come that nobody really knows where they came from.  Well, almost nobody.

 

We always have fun at the dollar store, too.  When they were young, we would give them money and let them pick things out for siblings, relatives and friends.  Some dollar stores offer very nice merchandise for a buck and priceless gifts.  My little quasi-nephew, Christopher bought me a Coca-Cola glass last year because he knows I would like that.  He got the message of what giving a present to someone is really all about!  You know, folks, the American celebration of Christmas is so crassly commercial and out of control that “All I want for Christmas is more, more, more…” isn’t just a novelty song anymore.  And while we hear, even on the Christian radio station, songs about Santa and reindeer, let’s try to remember the shivering baby born in a barn.

 

Remember, the good book says, “I ain’t gettin’ nuttin’ for Christmas, mommy and daddy are mad, I ain’t gettin’ nuttin’ for Christmas, ‘cuz I ain’t been nuttin’ but bad.”

 

P.S.

 

I believe the story of Chanukah is true, too, that God kept their lamp burning without oil for 8 days.

As I exited King Soopers the other day I overheard a disparaging complaint about the Salvation Army bell-ringer that was standing there.  You know, folks, there is no need to be rude to people.  If you don’t want to give anything, then just walk on by and keep your ignorant trap shut.  It is a hard job these folks do and I should know.  I earned Christmas money for a few years in a row by ringing bell for the Salvation Army .  In fact, there was a time when we would have gone hungry if it had not been for the generosity of this charitable organization.  People as diverse as Sheryl Crow, Destiny’s Child and Toby Keith have supported them in the past.

 

When I was a bell-ringer, I would stand out on the cold cement for 8 hours a day, cheerfully wishing people “Merry Christmas” as they went into the business and saying, “Thank you and God bless you” as they left.  There are a few common errors that people make about the Red Kettle fund drive, common misconceptions that I would like to clarify for you.

 

First of all, all money collected stays within the local community , in our case, El Paso County, Colorado.  There is no money that is collected by the kettles that goes anywhere else.

 

All of the money is used to buy food and toys for the poor people of that community.  Many people thought that the workers were paid from the kettle money, but that is not true.  The kettle workers are paid from the Salvation Army’s administrative funds, leaving every cent, every penny you teach your little child to put in the kettle, goes to the poor.  So you are not supporting their cause or subsidizing the propagation of their doctrine, but you are directly helping the poor in the community and them only.  I don’t know of any other group that does that.

 

It was always the most heartwarming thing to see a little person, who could barely even reach the kettle, are handed a coin or a bill and toddle over and put it in.  One of the things they also do not do is make people dress up in Santa Claus outfits.  They do have a photo ID pinned to their clothes that has the name and phone number of their supervisor on it.

 

Now, what I did is dress pretty much the same way I always do.  I wear a black western duster that Margaret gave me for Christmas one year, black cowboy boots and my black cowboy hat.  The only difference at Christmas time is that, attached onto the crown of the hat, I wear a Santa hat, instead.  Guys would walk by and drop money in and say, “Cowboy up, Santa.”  My favorites were always the little kids, though.  They are shy and sometimes I would (I’m not supposed to do this, so, shhh) unhook the kettle and get down to where the little person was let them reach it.  They are so proud to put that money in and they are learning a valuable lesson at the same time, they are learning how to give.

 

Sometimes, when they would put their money in and I would say, “Thank you, God bless you and Merry Christmas” they would ask me, “Are you Santa Claus?”  I would laugh and get down on their level and whisper conspiratorially, “No, I’m not, but I might be one of his helpers, you never know.  I’ve heard you never know who might be Santa’s helper.” Then I would smile and wink at them.

 

Oh, stop!  I’ll write another day about Santa and what I think about his place in our Christmas celebrations some other day.  I’m sure I’ll shock and offend most everybody.  Ah, a worthy pursuit, to make everyone angry at the holiday season.  Maybe I won’t surprise anyone, I don’t know.

 

Anyway, the people that work as bell-ringers for the Salvation Army are either unpaid volunteers or low-paid employees and as with any other group you will, of course, have your slackers and milk-men as well as your hardworking individuals that really care about what they do.  There is one guy in town that sings Christmas carols and cheerfully greets everyone with a Merry Christmas.  I have had a few “Scrooges” in my time that will even curse you out for wishing them well, but they are few and far between.  Most people I met while doing the job, especially in Colorado Springs, were generous and pleasant.  I think Colorado Springs is one of the most generous and giving towns on the map, if not THE most.  I am proud to live here and think that we have the most giving and caring town in the world.

 

Nowadays I never pass by a kettle without putting something in and as I said, when the kids were little we always gave them money and held them over it, so they could put the money in themselves.  Perhaps you have never needed help from an organization like this, I really hope you haven’t, but if you have ever been helped, then you know the feeling of appreciation that you have.  One problem I ran into was that so many people use debit cards at the register.  I couldn’t say it then, but I will tell you now, you can usually get a little cash back from most stores.  Get some cash back and ask for change if you must, but put a little in the bucket.

 

You know, in this day and age of scammers and bums that hold up signs “”Nam Vet, Please Help” you can still teach your children to be compassionate on the poor, while explaining to them why you don’t stop and give that bum any money.  You are really helping out the poor and needy in the community where you live!

 

Another worthwhile point about this program is that they help anyone, not just Christians.  They help anyone who is in need.  Obviously they are interested in teaching you about their beliefs, but you do not have to sit through a sermon or church service beforehand.

 

I am going to put a red kettle link here on my blog to start a group Kettle drive, then I will e-mail every one of you I have an address for and ask you to either contribute to it on-line and/or host a kettle as part of my group.  I am going to call the group, “Herb’s Friends” but will put the main link here since this blog has the most treaffic.  Please consider doing something, but even if you don’t do anything with the online thing, please take out a few pennies or a couple of ones, whatever, and put them in the bucket as you come out of the stores.  You can give more than once, too.

Please note: All donations given through the “Online Red Kettle” campaign will be distributed locally to the geographic area where the donor resides, based on the donor’s zip code.

I don’t know about how it would work for some of my foreign friends, so the link to their international site is http://www2.salvationarmy.org/ihq/www_sa.nsf

 

I do have to say that I had a little trouble navigating their web page and had to figure out how to put the links in right.  I think the links at the top of the page are working correctly now, though, so use those, if you would please.  To get to my kettle I had to click on the “Host your own kettle” link and then search on my name.  I hope you will not have too much trouble, most of you except Carter are smarter than me anyway; although Carter’s socks may be a sentient being…Sorry, a little digression there, don’t step in it until we can get it cleaned up.

 

Anyway, please donate online to my kettle, start your own kettle under my group name, start your own kettle on your own AND don’t pass a red kettle without throwing something in.

 

And though it’s early, Merry Christmas!

 

Remember, the GOOD BOOK says, “And thou shalt not glean thy vineyard, neither shalt thou gather every grape of thy vineyard; thou shalt leave them for the poor and stranger: I am the LORD your God.”“For the poor shall never cease out of the land: therefore I command thee, saying, Thou shalt open thine hand wide unto thy brother, to thy poor, and to thy needy, in thy land.”

The problem with pet peeves is that they are so hard to take care of.  You think they’re under control and not going to cause any more trouble; you’ve stroked them and talked soothingly to them and explained things to them, but they wind up being as ornery as Carter’s old tomcat, Smaj.  Some peeves are greatly exacerbated by different triggers while others are always there.  My trigger got pulled and buttons pressed when I went to several major websites and saw the same moniker, “Turkey Day is coming!”

 

I don’t know who the turkeys are that write this drivel, but it needs to stop.  For one thing, it is aesthetically unappealing to me.  Not only have all the major retailers almost completely bypassed the holiday, going directly from Halloween (starting in August) to Mammon and Filthy Lucre’s great Holy Day, Christmas, which used to be short for Christ’s Mass, not a former mass, such as X Mass.  Don’t get me wrong, I love Christmas and celebrate it heartily, but it is crassly commercialized.  Back to aesthetics, I think that the words “Thanksgiving Day” are much more graceful than “Turkey Day.”  There is also something special about looking at retail displays that depict the Pilgrims and Indians feasting together.  True, generally speaking, they are often not very historically correct, but they do show the religious and spiritual nature of both groups.

 

Before you go taking me to task on the fact that the Indians were not Christians and all of that, I am far ahead of you.  It is for this very reason that this Holiday, more than most, should be respected and revered.  You see, if you are a preacher of diversity, then Thanksgiving Day should be your Holiday of choice.  Everyone should have someone or something that they look up to and give thanks to.  Everyone should be thankful.  Even if you have had a bad year, and I have had a couple of those in my time, there are still things that you have to be thankful for.  Some years you may really have to think hard, but if you try to enumerate the various blessings you have, they will come to even the most pessimistic and hard-hearted.  The fact that you are reading this blog means that you can at least have some sort of communication with the outside world.  I am thankful and a little humbled that you have chosen to spend a few minutes reading what I have to say.

 

It doesn’t matter what religion you are, either, even if your religion is atheism, which requires faith, also.  You must believe in Darwin as there is no way to use the scientific method to prove or disprove his theories.  You cannot set up an experiment that will duplicate the moment of Creation or the Big Bang, you can only hypothesize.  But even you, my atheist and agnostic friends, should be thankful, even if you’re thankful that you are not as stupid as me to believe in God.  Who are atheists thankful to?  I guess to their intellect, I don’t know.  Maybe they can just appreciate things in life.

 

I do.  I appreciate a lot of things.  I have received many blessings from the Lord over the last year and of course he does so many things for us that we don’t have any idea about as well.  There are so many times we don’t have a clue about what he’s done for us or how he’s protected us and taken care of us.

 

We in the U.S.A. need to remember this as well.  There is a reason our founding fathers made “In God We Trust” our motto beside that it looked cool and would tick off the ACLU.  Americans are so truly blessed with material goods as well as freedom; these blessings abound everywhere in such great quantity that sometimes it is easy to take it for granted.  Our poorest citizens have more than many in other places and even our bums and beggars are treated well.

 

This is a day which has come to be equated with feasting and celebrating, football and napping, but let’s not forget that we need to give thanks on this day as well.  I plan to point this out to managers of retail establishments.  Complaining to the clerk does no good and only creates ill-will, but whenever I see banners proclaiming “Turkey Day” instead of “Thanksgiving Day” I will bring it up.  Will it do any good?  I don’t know, but it will make me feel better.

 

Now, if you want to change the name of the holiday, I agree with the little girl named “Stick” in the comic strip “Pre-Teena” last year, whose idea was to change it to “Givethanksing Day” because that is a more accurate name.

 

Oh, and while I am giving my peeves some air, as soon as Givethanksing Day is over I plan to say “Merry Christmas” to everybody I see!

 

Remember, the Good Book says, “Therefore I will give thanks unto thee, O LORD, among the heathen, and I will sing praises unto thy name.”

Greetings Fans, Friends, Fiends and Foes,

 

I apologize for neglecting you guys, but you know, sometimes life just happens when you had planned to blog.  I really do appreciate you all coming here to read what I have to say and leaving your comments.  Your time is valuable and I am thankful that you are there.

 

I went to church last night, and we had a special program to honor Veteran’s Day.  Originally Armistice Day, celebrating the peace in WWI that happened at the 11^th hour of the 11^th day of the 11^th month, now it has been expanded to honor all veterans.

 

Pastor asked that all of the servicemen that had ever served come to church in their uniform; I think he should have added the caveat, “If they fit.”  Anyway, it was neat to see everyone in their military finest.  Some had recently retired and some were active duty so there were people that could fit into their uniform.  There was a color guard that presented the colors and the saying of the Pledge of Allegiance, (WITH “Under God” of course) and a speech by Rev B about how our religious freedoms and freedom of speech are guaranteed by men and women who have been willing, through history, to defend those freedoms.

 

While he was talking he said something that made me feel both proud and humble at the same time.  It was to the effect that there have been some who have never faced an angry bullet and did not stay in for twenty years but, they were ready and willing to go if they were called upon.  Well, while serving during peacetime (I got a letter from the VFW offering membership???  I was in from 21Aug87 – 20Aug90 which they say qualifies me.  I don’t remember any war going on.) Does, in fact, have its heartaches and sacrifices, I don’t compare them to what others went through.  I don’t think it’s the same.  Nevertheless, the point is made that there are, have been and will be, people who are just as important, even though their risk is negligible.

 

Then there are old warhorses like my buddy, Carter, who has been most everywhere, including Germany during the Cold War and Iraq and Iraq in both “hot wars.”  His stories about how he got his Iraqi prisoners to talk, in a relatively simple fashion, without dog leashes, are humorous.  I wonder, though, if threatening to take off his boots was against the Geneva conventions.  Maybe he would be willing to blog a couple of war stories on the Herb’s Friends blog for us.

 

As they were talking about WWII I thought about a hero from my dad’s family.  I wrote about him last year when I discovered my cousin’s website about my uncle, Herbert Thiel.  He was my dad’s favorite brother who was killed.  The site, http://www.rohna.org/ will have links to sites that tell about the attack on the transport he was riding on and how the Germans used a new technology, an “Air Torpedo” and how the government tried to hide the incident for fear that the people in this country would become frightened.

 

So, anyway, thanks to Pops and Carter (who’s still ugly) and all the rest of you who’ve served.  Oh, and yes, I do recognize that people can serve their country without serving in the military, but this wasn’t their day.

 

Remember, the Good Book says, “Thou shalt rise up before the hoary head, and honour the face of the old man, and fear thy God: I am the LORD.” And, “Render therefore to all their dues…honour to whom honour.”

Greetings, Blogging Cronies, Bloghoppers and Blogophiles!

 

Okay, I’m back, I think.  Thank you all for your kind thoughts and prayers.  It really makes a difference, let me tell you.

 

While I was off I did a lot of reading and one of the things I read about was tipping.  No, not the dangerous and highly controversial sport of cow-tipping, but rather, waitress-tipping, where groups of young people will go out to eat and when they are done, they pick up the waitress bodily and turn her completely over.  This insanity is not a sport but a real danger, both to the dignity of the wait staff and to the customer once the poor unfortunate is released.  Sometimes they will demand compensation for this abuse by requiring 20 – 30 percent of your available checking account balance in lieu of lawsuit.  This practice has…

 

Oh.  Wait a minute, this just in.  Apparently I misunderstood the article I read.  I was under the influence of Codeine cough syrup or Nyquil.  The article was, in fact, referring to the gratuity you leave for the waitperson.  That’s very different.  Never mind.

 

I would like to address the issue of how much of a tip you are supposed to leave at a regular sit-down restaurant.  I ignore tip jars, especially at fast-food and coffee places where you don’t even have a clue about what sort of service you are about to receive or how your drink will turn out.  I am also not talking about all-you-can-eat buffets, where you are now (apparently) expected to tip the person who comes by and clears your dishes and asks how you are doing.  Apparently a buck or two is now considered necessary.

 

No, what I am referring to is the traditional meal that is brought to you by a friendly, cheerful, underpaid waitress or waiter.  I feel I am qualified to tackle this topic because, even though I have never been a waiter, I have been a patron of restaurants since the days when Carter and I used to go barnstorming the quaint little town of Shawano, WI.  We would get off work, the whistle would blow and Carter would slide down his dino crane and I would leave the loincloth sales shop and we would go out to eat somewhere to talk about the important issues of the day, like whose boss was the worst, which customers were the growliest and whether the town drunk, Wally, would do something disgusting on himself.

 

We were a couple of wild and crazy, single, young guys with cash in our pockets.  One of the things we enjoyed was making the rounds of the local eateries.  We could go anywhere in town and not just be welcome, but waitresses would drop other customers and want to wait on us.  Sure we were loud and managers didn’t really like us too much, but we had the one advantage that managers couldn’t argue with.  We were good tippers.  Not just good tippers, but great tippers.  Oh, we were friendly and nice to them, but the bottom line was the bottom line.  And we knew that these poor gals worked HARD for a lot less money than we even got!  Their bosses could (and can) get away with paying a small fraction of minimum wage and telling them to give their customers great service so they would earn tips.  We also knew the nature of customers.  Some were easy to please and some were stingy old tightwads that would just as soon pinch a penny until Honest Abe cried than to part with it.  Now, the employer doesn’t have to make up the shortfall if your tips do not total minimum wage, but you are expected to report all the tips you receive as taxable income.

 

So, even though we knew that the proper amount to tip was, at the time, ten percent, we also knew that there were many times customers would figure out to the nth decimal place exactly ten percent, no matter how spectacular the service was and that there were many who would probably not tip at all, especially if there was some problem, perceived or real.  Not us.  We respected the hard work that was being done and we enjoyed being treated like kings wherever we went (even though Carter is always treated like a King and so are his family).  The reason was that we were nice to the people that took care of us and we were generous tippers.  At a time when the standard, proper tip was considered 10%, in a community where it was likely figured to the nearest thousandth and rounded down by most people, we would regularly tip 15 – 20 percent and sometimes even 25.  Sometimes we would BOTH leave a tip on the same bill, often totaling anywhere from 30% upwards.  Like I said, wait staff loved us everywhere.  There was only one exception in the last almost thirty years when we were treated so poorly and disrespectfully and just plain rottenly, that we left a penny tip.  That was one very extreme time, as I said, in thirty years.

 

I had learned and have always browbeaten into my children, that you should NEVER go out unless you have enough money to include a decent tip as well as pay your bill.  My habit has been, all these years, to tip a minimum of 15% and I generally like to leave 20.

 

I was shocked and dismayed reading this article over the weekend, to learn that the new expectation is now 15 – 20 percent!  I couldn’t believe it.  This is getting a little crazy, now, I think.  As you can see, I already do that, so I feel free to talk.  Where is this going to stop?  What will be the new plateau?  50 %?  75?  100?  Go to the restaurant and find a waitress and seat her and go in back and fix her something to eat???  Well, yeah, I can hear you saying, “Well, times are tough now and inflation has hurt them and they still get paid so much less than minimum wage, etc.” and my reply to your comment is, “When do the restaurateurs have to take a little responsibility for paying their employees a living wage?”  They already charge a dollar and a half for a twenty-five cent cup of coffee and two dollars for a ten cent soda pop.  I’m sorry, but I don’t think the restaurants are hurting that much for markup that they can’t invest a little in their employees also.  And where do you get off, Mr. big-shot restaurant owner, adding 18% to my bill because we have 6 people in our party?  How dare you.  You have insulted my dignity and impugned upon my good name.  While it is true that some groups, (even church groups, which I would like to see more pastors and youth leaders address because you are a poor witness and a bad example if you do not treat the staff that are taking care of you right) do not tip appropriately, who do you think you are, insinuating that we are like that? 

 

This is kind of out of hand, if you ask me and by coming here and reading this you have asked me.  20%.  If I have a party of 4, I may as well just have the waitress pull up a chair and join us and buy her lunch, too.  That would make up 20% of our bill and then we all could pitch in, even her, an additional 5% and leave her a 25% tip, too.  You will walk into a diner and the waitress will say, “Hi, welcome to the Patio Restaurant, how can you help me?”

 

Oh, anyone that knows me at all will know that I don’t plan to stop tipping at restaurants.  It is embarrassing to me to go somewhere with someone that doesn’t tip, or worse yet, is a stingy tipper, especially if they claim to be from my church.  I don’t want that poor overworked, harassed waitress to think the church I go to is full of cheapskates who don’t know how to act in public.  It only takes once and I will never go again, that’s for sure.  Even when we send Grandma out with her group of elders we always make sure to remind her that no matter what sister so-and-so says, even though she is older than Moses, it is never appropriate to just leave a dollar on the table and think that’s enough.  And if I ever found out that one of my children went out with a group and didn’t act polite and leave a nice, generous tip, it would be a while before they went with that group again.  But, what IS a nice generous tip anymore?

 

Remember, the good book says, “Always show respect to people that handle your food when you can’t see them.”  Or something like that…

My Dear Fans, Friends, Fiends and foes,

Thank you all for your prayers and support.  I apologize for not giving you updates sooner but it has been a little hectic around here.  Margaret cam out of the hospital Tuesday, and had to go back to the E.R. on Wednesday for shortness of breath.  In the meantime my cold got nastier and I took some medicine that knocked me on my can for twelve hours at a pop, so I wasn't much company either.  The good news is that we are up and around, Margaret was even after the kids to do their Saturday cleaning, so all is well, except that Tabitha is coming down with something.  Her good news is that it is a couple of weeks before she takes her trip to California for the West Coast Conference.

Margaret has been sick this past week and working overtime. She started being really sick Saturday night.  She was so nauseous that she couldn’t eat or drink anything and by Sunday afternoon we thought she might be getting dehydrated, so off to the E.R. we went.  Well, after the I.V. was started and the anti-nausea medicine got in her, she started being able to cough, except that when she did she had this strong pain on the right side of her chest.  Listen to breathing and take chest x-ray – pneumonia!  So they start antibiotics as well.  When they put the pulse-ox (pulsox?, pull socks?) on her, the O² level was borderline, between 88 – 92, avg about 89.  Might keep her, might not.  If her oxygen stays at that range and she can keep the pills down, she can go home.  Well, her oxygen went down and down, all the way down to 69 at one point, but in the low 70’s otherwise, so they wound up giving her oxygen and decided to keep her overnight.  So you guys pray for her, (or think nice thoughts about her or whatever it is you do…We pray) okay?  Thanks.

 

We got there at around 2 in the afternoon and she was in a room by 9.  Actually that time does not reflect the fact that she was seen relatively quickly by a doctor.  In fact, I had an idea it was serious because they DID take her back right away and, in my opinion, for an E.R. they were pretty speedy, it just took that long to diagnose because her symptoms were flu-like as well, then they had to empty a bed in pulmonology.

 

They are going to make her take a week off from work, which is a good thing for her, if she will just stay in bed.  She is the kind that has to be up and around doing, doing, doing all the time.  Oh well.  I will do my best to keep her behaving herself and I will try to keep you updated on Margaret’s condition and no, family members, nobody called you because it was up to me and I was too busy.  I will try to have somebody call you today if I get a chance, so don’t call me up after you read this and chew me out.  You know who you are.

 

The television was on, but muted, so every once in a while I would take a gander at what I was “missing out on” and “depriving my poor children of”(An exact quote).  It helped me make a decision.  Folks, I am not going to buy a TV any time soon.  I also am going to have to expand my list of foes, Hollyweird (which includes the TV, movie and other media, even that sacred cow, the “news,” which some people claim is the only reason they want a TV.) and Mad Ave (in which I include the fashion industry as well the advertising game), to include the sports world as well.  It used to be that professional sports figures were people you could point out to your children and say, “When you grow up, you could be the next *****, if you *****” but not so any more.  I was shocked at the aggressive behavior, (well, no duh, of course I realize that aggression is a part of sports, but this behavior was much more intense and not in the line of playing the game) which was just hateful, spiteful things that 25 years ago would have been unsportsmanlike conduct!  And throwing gang signs!  Not to mention the advertising and of course the depiction of how glamorous alcohol is.  Why don’t the booze companies have to do like the tobacco industry and advertise the truth?  I saw ads all afternoon from tobacco companies telling people how to get help for quitting smoking!

 

Remember, the Good Book says, “Neither shalt thou bring an abomination into thine house, lest thou be a cursed thing like it: but thou shalt utterly detest it, and thou shalt utterly abhor it; for it is a cursed thing.”

I have had a cold for the past several days and while it has been taking its time progressing through the various stages of ickiness I have been sleeping in until 4 and sometimes even 4:30.  Even when I am sitting around waiting and have my laptop I have been resting instead of writing.  I still don’t have a clear idea of what today’s entry will be about yet, but I am thinking maybe a hodge-podge of different things.  Frankly I feel a little burned out, which might be the cough medicine talking.

 

I have been reading all of your blogs though.  I may not comment every single time I stop by because I have about 25 that I look at regularly, but I try to comment if I can think of something to say.  I do this because I like it when people comment here.  I try to respond to comments that seem to need or want response, and enjoy occasionally bantering and bandying about.  I know, I know, it’s only funny till somebody loses an eye.

 

Daveman and Ashley have been nagging me to update the humor blog, too.  Nicole was supposed to be helping me with that, but now she has a real job and her time is limited between that and church and going to Kansas via Oklahoma.  I wouldn’t tease her about that one since it wasn’t really her fault, but she wrote about it in her blog.  The reason I can get through 25 blogs is that not everyone updates all the time.  Nicole works and Ashley can’t always get access to a computer, but I go back and check their blogs all the time.  Same with Jinny’s blog.  You’d think a research scientist and full-time student wouldn’t have anything better to do, although Sam is also a research scientist and a full-time student and he blogs every day.  I think he should be on Blogdrive’s favorites with Abby Normal.

 

Now I have started talking about blogs and don’t know where to go next.  Anyway, everyone updates at a different rate and so I don’t actually have to read 25 blogs every day.  How did I get on that, anyway?  Oh, I remember (he said, re-reading the previous paragraph), the humor blog.  I had invited Nicole to contribute because she has access to her father’s archives of clean jokes.  He was a great guy with a wonderful sense of humor that was always ready to laugh.  He had put out a humor newsletter that was nothing but clean jokes, which, in the words of my friend, Ken D., are “so squeaky clean you can even tell your pastor.”  His birthday was just last month and I know his wife and kids had to be feeling it.  You know, you don’t ever “get over” it when someone dies.  Well, I know you all are anxious for me to go down that cheerful road, but I have other fish to fry.

 

Aaarrrggghhh!  I keep going off on a tangent.  I guess cough medicine is not the best muse, huh?  Anyway, I do have plans to update the humor blog.  I have a big fat book from the turn of the last century that is full of jokes.  It is dated because it does have sections of jokes based racial stereotypes, such as “colored people,” the Irish, Germans, Italians, etc.  Many of the jokes are about groups like businessmen, bankers, lawyers, doctors and preachers, though.  Personally I love puns.  I have several books of puns and many that I made up or heard from my dad.

 

Okay, I’m getting tired now, so I will write more in a couple of days when I am more coherent, or less incoherent than now at any rate.

 

Remember, as the good book says, “She was only a necktie salesgirl, but she knew how to collar a man.”

 

That’s it.

 

I’m done.

 

Buh-bye.