On this day 45 years ago I was born. I have spent more time reflecting on my life this birthday more than any other. I guess it’s because I now feel exceptionally close to 50. I’ve never thought much about birthdays nor have I put much emphasis on them. This year has felt a little different.
I feel a little melancholy to be quite frank and I noticed my mood change yesterday on the golf course. I guess I should be thankful that I’ve made it this far as many of my friends have passed over. I understand age to be a matter of the mind, yet I can’t help but think about getting old.
With that all said, here’s to another year and hopefully many, many more!
An arsonist is on the loose in Colmstock, Australia, most recently burning down the town’s courthouse and killing a young boy who was trapped inside..
An aspiring journalist desperate for a story
The clock is ticking for Rose Blakey. With nothing but rejections from newspapers piling up, her job pulling beers for cops at the local tavern isn’t nearly enough to cover rent. Rose needs a story-a big one.
Little dolls full of secrets
In the weeks after the courthouse fire, precise porcelain replicas of Colmstock’s daughters begin turning up on doorsteps, terrifying parents and testing the limits of the town’s already fractured police force.
Rose may have finally found her story. But as her articles gain traction and the boundaries of her investigation blur, Colmstock is seized by a seething paranoia. Soon, no one is safe from suspicion. And when…
I have never been driven by money nor have I ever been tempted with material possessions. When I see people who want, want , want, I feel sorry for them. They desire for things that have no real value; things that will one day rot in a landfill or junk yard. I desire for things that have lasting value-friendship, love, compassion, etc.
Evelina and I have nice things, but I could be as content living in a 500 sq ft cinder block building. The only thing I must have is reliable transportation so a 1988 Honda Accord will do just fine.
When I observe people who are enamored with “stuff” I usually find someone who is a bit empty inside. They are trying to fill a void internally with stuff externally and it will never, ever work to fill that emptiness.
I am really bothered with so much in the world lately and there doesn’t seem like there’s much anyone can do to change anything. The government is so big and does as it pleases. Extremists on the right and left are in a contest to see who can puke their vileness on humanity the fastest. The majority of Americans are moderate, yet all I hear about on the news are ultras. The media is constantly pushing their agenda AND they might be the biggest hypocrites in the United States.
After typing that first paragraph I’m beginning to think it is time to unplug for a week or more to decompress and purge all the internet junk from my mind. That is my observation for today…
There was a time when I would never use sick days. In the golf business there wasn’t an opportunity to use sick time because there was no replacement staff; no one to call to come in to work. I would go to work sick and wore my dedication like a badge of honor. What I did not realize was that I wasn’t doing myself or anyone else any great favor by being “dedicated”.
Now I understand that sick time is designed to be used and for a few good reasons: 1. When your body doesn’t feel well it needs rest, and 2. You need to be respectful of others when you don’t feel well. The former is self-explanatory. But the latter is one of those things I never thought of until I got someone else sick and they got mad at me.
A few years back I went to work sick. One of my fellow employees who was pregnant at the time made one of those comments like “If I get sick because of you I’m going to be mad. You need to go home.” Of course I didn’t go home and as you can imagine by now, she got sick. And she was mad. She took her time off work and then yelled at me for not being more considerate and staying home. Her point was valid and I hadn’t thought about how unfair it was to others to walk around spreading my germs.
Part of being human is about relationships with other humans and being considerate; considering the feelings and views of others when making decisions. It doesn’t take much effort to stop and evaluate how your actions might impact another human and I highly recommend doing so from time-to-time.
Today is Columbus Day in the States and many states are adopting Indigenous People’s Day; a move with which I agree. It doesn’t take much reading (Columbus’ own journal) to understand Columbus was driven by money and power and was fully aware he would have to kill in order to get his 10%.
My observation today is how history has been taught here in the states. When I was a young man I was taught that Columbus was an adventurer, a sailor and a hero. The truth is he was a mass murderer and did so in the name of Spain, Christianity and greed. These facts were left out by design to push the agenda of heroism and courage. Columbus was portrayed as a saint of sorts, moving throughout the world helping to bring the message of Jesus to those lost souls. Nothing could be farther from the truth. We know history is written by the victors, but it is time to rewrite history. I believe it is never too late to do the right thing and the right thing here is to show some respect to those Native Americans which Columbus brutalized.
It is time to change this day to Indigenous People’s Day.
I don’t mind being called “white” even though I am beige.
But the other day Evelina had a young checkout girl at the grocer get upset when she referred to an employee as “African American”. The man she referred to was confused at his fellow employee’s anger and asked her what she would expect my wife to call him. She had no answer. It seems that some people are just waiting to be outraged.
I am not white, I am Caucasian. Our society feels it necessary to deem me as “white” so I go with it. I guess I could get all kinds of twisted up about it, but it isn’t that big of a deal. I’ve been called “cracker”, “honkey”, “cracker ass cracker” and so many other things when I worked retail. My favorite was “racist ass white cracker mo*&% f$%#$”. Even then the names didn’t upset me. I simply don’t put much credence in what someone whom I don’t know says about me.
I do understand why some people would be upset over certain names, but have we gotten to the point when “African American” is offensive?? The outrage train is so out of control that I cannot keep up with what pisses people off and what doesn’t.
I guess we truly do live in the land of the offended.
I reblog around 4 posts per day from bloggers I follow whose posts I find interesting. On occasion someone will come across a reblogged post and feel the need to email me and tell me what an “as***ole” I am for writing such “garbage”.
My observation is this: it amazes me the number of people who don’t recognize the difference between a reblog and an original post. Let me say for the record that I don’t have to agree with the content to share it with my readers. I would say there are many opinion pieces I share that I do not agree with the view of the writer and I do that for a specific reason. Why? I love to challenge my own thinking and the thinking of my readers. I think it is not only healthy, but also imperative that we spend as much time reading opposing views to our own world-view.
So to the blogger who felt the need to email I say “thank you”. As for the name calling, not so much. If you can’t handle an opposing view then all you have to do is unfollow; it is that simple.