It’s like when you hit the home stretch in a race, and you can see the finish line. You’re spent. You’re not sure where you’re going to find the energy to make it to the end. And then there are people lining the route cheering you on. You are filled with a burst of adrenaline, and you push through to the end. It was nice to know that even the trees were on my side this morning.
This got us talking about how funny it is when people talk to their GPS, like it can hear them. I told her that I do that all the time, and my son always asks who I’m talking to.
This one time, the GPS told me to turn right at a stoplight, but I was stuck behind some cars. When it was finally my turn, there was quite a bit of traffic on the crossroad. The entire time, the GPS was continuously saying, “Turn right…turn right…turn right.”
I told her that I was trying to, but there were cars in front of me. When she persisted, I held the phone up to the window, so the GPS could see the car in front of me. When that didn’t deter her, I also showed her the cross traffic whizzing by. There was a pause, and I thought I’d finally managed to get through to her. Then, she said, “Turn right.”
Now, he does have cameras set up around his property, but there’s one blind spot in the coverage. He said he’d tested it out and determined that he couldn’t be seen in this one location. This was the “pee spot.” He’d used it several times before, and the grass in this one spot was completely dead. Content he was safe from prying eyes, he let the pee fly. Unfortunately, while he was going, one of his dogs came up behind him and started peeing on the back of his leg. I guess he’d found his “pee spot” too! Needless to say, my brother was cussing under his breath as he trudged back inside to get cleaned up.
I was paired up with the park caretaker to do pretty much anything he asked. We hit it off right away. He worked me hard, and I was exhausted when my shift was finally over. But in return, he taught me about the trees and plants, and I absorbed it like a sponge. I loved learning, and I still remember most of what he taught me to this day, some 27 years later.
The only downside was the poison ivy that ran rampant throughout the place. And since our job was to clear brush, repair or make trails, and cultivate plant health; we were constantly in the thick of it. I didn’t actually know that I was highly allergic to poison ivy until I worked there. One brush with the plant’s oil, and I’d break out into severe blisters. But I didn’t let it stop me from going back, even though I contracted poison ivy three separate times that summer.
But it was all worth it. It was the best experience, and if I were to describe my ideal job at the time, that was it. A seemingly endless forest to hike and explore. No signs of the city anywhere. Just peace, nature, and God. I considered that as a viable career choice, but the pay, even for the caretaker, was atrocious. I guess people like enjoying nature, but they don’t want to pay someone to take care of it for them.
But then he looked up and saw a dog in the car stopped next to him, and he completely transformed. He started making kissy faces at the dog, completely unhindered by how ridiculous he looked. And then the dog did something playful and silly, and the man’s face broke into a huge toothless smile. I’ve never seen such a smile. It was, for lack of a better word, beautiful. It was so honest and genuine. He was so happy in that moment, and he looked a different man entirely.
I guess you can’t truly judge a book by its cover. Hidden underneath in its pages might be a beautiful smile just waiting to come out. And never underestimate the power of a dog to bring it out.
So, armed with two racks of clothes and handbags and three tables full of glasses, books, puzzles, and assorted knickknacks we prepared for the horde to descend upon us. It didn’t take long for the first person to arrive, ten minutes before the garage sale started. But it was quite a bit longer for the next person. After that, they came in sporadic bursts over the next few hours. Oddly enough, the knickknacks sold better than anything else.
My son was soon bored of sitting around and waiting, so I got him a little spade, and we started digging around in the flower bed. All of a sudden, a giant gust of wind blew across the driveway, caught the clothes rack overloaded with my spousal unit's blouses, and pulled it over directly on my head. The metal bar caught me right across the scalp and knocked me to the ground, covering my son and I both with clothes. It hurt, but I was able to shake it off and help get the displays back in order. We moved the clothes rack into the entrance of the garage to keep it from being caught by the wind again, and my son and I went back to digging in the dirt.
We had moved around to a different part of the flowerbed, when all of a sudden, another gust of wind blew across the driveway. This one caught the rack of purses and bags that my spousal unit had set up on the sidewalk, bringing it crashing down...right on my head...in the exact same spot. This time I was assisted by several shoppers, who were kind enough to dig me out of the pile of handbags on top of me and check to see if I was okay.
After that I was pretty much done with sitting in the flowerbed, so I moved inside to ice my head. I did trudge back outside later on to help wrap things up. All told we only made $75 for the event. Not a great haul, especially considering that my doctor bills will be more than that! And to top it all off, I discovered later on that I had gotten a sunburn on the tops of my feet in the shape of my flip-flops!
I had a dream last night that that exact thing happened to one of my favorite mystery novel detectives, Hercule Poirot. Poirot found himself in a library of vintage books of various shapes and sizes. As he read the titles, he commented that he didn’t recognize any of them. That was when the other person in the room explained that these were all part of a never-before-seen collection of books that had been discovered in the author’s estate upon her death. Poirot asked what they were about, and the other person said, “You. All of them are about you.”
“Me?” Poirot gasped in surprise. “How can they be about me?”
“Because you’re a character from a book, something that someone thought up and brought to life on paper. There are other stories about you that many people have read.”
“Mon Dieu!” he exclaimed as the reality hit him. He stood staring at the spines of the book, his little grey cells working to process this information. He began to walk down the shelves, his gloved hand gliding gently along the titles. And then he began to cry. “I am not me. It is no longer my voice. It has been given to everyone to speak for me. And they thought so little of me that they didn’t even care to speak these stories for me.”
We all stood in silence, watching the great detective as he covered his face and sobbed uncontrollably. His entire life a lie.
I turned to my spousal unit and said, “I’m glad he told me it was the dog. I was about to ask why the driver was barking at me.”
As I looked at this face clouded in mystery and shadow, taking human form and no form at the same time…a sort of Everyman, I was struck by how much it looked like God, or rather what I imagine God would look like. And then to see it boldly and clearly announced on his shirt, so that it leaves no doubt, just like in the days of old. I am God.
But it was funny too. I imagined God wearing one of those name tags that says, “Hello…My Name is God,” walking around some networking function and interacting with people.
“Hi…God is it? My name is Ted, I’m in mergers and acquisitions. What line of business are you in?”
“Hello, Ted. It’s nice to finally meet you. Your wife has told me a lot about you. I’m in the insurance business. My two partners and I are doing some pretty amazing things, life-changing things. Let me tell you about it.”
“Hello, God. My name is Sharon. You look so familiar, have we met before?”
“Hello, Sharon. I had the pleasure of meeting you a while back, but it’s been a very long time since we last spoke. It’s definitely good to run into you again.”
“God!”
“Hello, Seth.”
“Man, I’m so glad you’re here. I thought this thing was going to be a complete drag, but now that you’re here, it might be at least tolerable. But come over here, there’s some people I want you to meet.”
I always used to wear this black White Sox hat. It was back years ago when they had revamped their logo to the much cooler version you see today, and everyone was sporting their gear. I loved that hat. I wore it everywhere. That was back when I actually wore hats. And so, I looked down at the hat, and I read what was written across it, and that’s what became my bowling nickname. Sox.
The morning we were suppose to go fishing, we got up at 4:00 a.m., so we could be at the pier by 5:00 a.m. and grab a “primo” spot. I forgot to mention that I’m also not a morning person or getting up before the sun. It was pitch black when we trudged out on the pier to claim our spots, my dad and stepmother on one side, and my girlfriend and I on the other. We had to use flashlights to see what we were doing. When we were all set, I cast off into the murky darkness and waited…and waited…and waited. The first rays of sunlight started to creep up over the horizon, and still we waited. I watched the sunrise, and my girlfriend slept in her chair.
Finally, I felt a tug on my line. I set the hook and reeled in my prize. Which ended up being a very angry crab. After fighting him off the hook and dropping him back in the water, I cast off again. I didn’t have to wait as long before I snagged something else, but it was only a giant glob of seaweed. Then I cast a third time, and this time, I hit gold…well, sort of a gold and blue with black cross stripes.
I had caught a small pinfish. Too small to keep, but large enough to fill my hand. And as I looked into the scared eyes of that fish, I was overcome by a strange emotion. To this day, I can’t explain it or what possessed me to do what I did next.
I kissed that fish right on his puckered lips…and he kissed me back.
My first thought was that he was crazy. I mean there were certainly other indicators to support this, like his obsession with washing and detailing his car on a weekly basis or the fact that he pulled weeds from his garden multiple times a week. But then I thought maybe he was just preparing for an upcoming ski trip, and he was trying to break in his gear. But last night, an alternate thought invaded my dreams.
What if he was actually a snowboard designer, and he was testing out a prototype that he’d developed? I mean it seems logical that he might want to check the balance, flex, and handling to make adjustments to the design. Then again, it’d be pretty odd for a snowboard designer to be living in Texas, where there are zero mountains and zero skiing. So, we’re back to he was just crazy.
My
Mom: “Lemon cake.”
Me:
“But I thought he liked carrot cake.”
My Mom: “No, he always asked for lemon cake, but I made him carrot.”
And she won’t ever relax and sit still even for a few minutes. She rushes through her meal and then immediately jumps up to start on the dishes. I mean, my mother-in-law could be two inches from deaths door, and she’d tell the undertakers to stop and wait, so she could wash the dishes first!
I guess what he meant was fertilize.
So, one night, she decided to play chess…against herself. I asked her if she had won, and she excitedly told that she had, but she said it was a tough match. It was almost as if the other one knew exactly what she was going to do. She would be contemplating moving her knight to this square, when suddenly she realized that the other one would take it with her bishop. The game took over two hours, because she was agonizing about every move and how to outsmart herself!
As I walk along it, I imagine the road worker who was cutting the path for it, driving his machine and drinking a beer. The path is straight, and he keeps drinking and drinking and drinking. And slowly the machine starts to swerve back and forth, as he struggles to stay going in a straight line…until he falls off the machine completely. The road crew drags him off to the side to sleep it off, and someone else hops on the machine and finishes the path for the sidewalk. The rest of the crew looks at the now squiggly path right in the middle of their straight sidewalk, shrugs, and fills it with concrete anyway. It beats having to cut it again. Besides the grass is already messed up.
My spousal unit and mother-in-law decided to give it a try as well. My mother-in-law took one sip, and her face twisted up in an almost pained expression. One of her eyes closed in a squint, her lips were pursed, and her head involuntarily cocked to one side. I laughed because it was the exact same reaction I had had when I took my first sip. The wine was very dry and smoky-flavored. I’d almost describe it as rough and strong, a very bold wine and not initially to my liking.
So, I took another sip to see if maybe it got better with each taste. It did not. My face contorted into the exact same expression, and I sarcastically said in a low, husky voice, “Very smooth…I can really feel my throat burning all the way down…good stuff.” To which my mother-in-law and spousal unit busted out laughing.
I downed two glasses, partly because I didn’t want to waste the money I had spent on it and partly because I was enjoying the dizzy, spinning feeling that I had gotten after the first glass. Of course that same feeling made it a little difficult to walk back across the kitchen to the bottle, and I had to make a wide left turn around the counter.
Today, we went to some friends house for a play date. It was the first time we’d been to their house, and we were surprised to find out that they had a pond behind their house with ducks. Apparently, when they moved in, there weren’t any ducks in the area, and the woman’s mother had decided that they needed some. So, she went to a duck farm (I didn’t even know that they had such a thing) and adopted some large black and white ducks. They had thrived on their little pond, mostly because the woman’s mother had taken to feeding them every day, and now there were twice as many as they’d started with.
So, we got a scoop of food and knelt down to wait for the flock to arrive. And arrive they did. Within moments, ducks were flying and waddling toward us. They were so calm that they’d eat right out of your hand. And while they ate, they’d let you pet them.
Now, I have never had an urge to pet a duck before, but once I realized it was an option, it was all I wanted to do. So, I fed them and pet them. I…touched…a…duck! I immediately pulled out my bucket list, added “touch a duck” to it, and checked it off! Next up, take a picture with a quokka.
You’re pinned in and stuck. The semi-truck ahead of you, which seemed so promising a few minutes before when he jerked over into this lane, forcing the car in front of you to slam on his brakes, is now driving the exact same speed as the semi-truck beside you. Now, he could have stayed behind the semi-truck to your right and driven this same speed, but he chose to take his show into the left lane and slow it down instead. He can pull over, but he won’t. The car in front of you could probably pull over too, but it’s a tight fit, so he’s playing it safe. Either the guy in front of you will get bold and finally pull over, only for the semi-truck in front on him to decide to do the same at that exact moment, or you’ll have to slow down and risk greeting the guy behind you when he slides up into your passenger seat. So, you wait…and wait…and wait.
I call the feeling in this moment “carstrophobia.” It’s a fear of being confined in a tight space in your car, and it gives me a lot of anxiety. I want out. I want freedom. I want to see open freeway ahead of me. It’s usually at this moment that I’ll execute my best vehicular maneuvers, like sliding under a semi-truck or using the emergency brake to execute a perfect spin onto the shoulder and around behind the car to my rear. Once free, I’ll gun it to get away. I’ll swim free of the pod and go rogue. I don’t care if I get eaten by a whale, because I’m a krill moving up the food chain! The vastness of the ocean doesn’t scare me. Carstrophobia does!
License plates in Texas usually are made up of 3 letters followed by 4 numbers. So, the idea of the game is to spot a random license plate on the road and to think of the longest word you can that encompasses those 3 letters in that exact order. The word can contain other letters before, in between, or after as well. The participant who comes up with the longest word, spelled correctly, wins that round. (There’s also a Wordscape variation where participants get extra points for each word they can generate with the same letters.)
So, for example, the car that just drove by me had MTG on their license plate. Someone might come up with “meeting” for 7 letters. But someone else might come up with “meetings” for 8 letters. While someone else might come up with “mitigating” for 10 letters.
I imagine one day playing this game with my son on trips to help fuel a love for words and to increase his vocabulary. Then again, my mom thinks it’s a pretty nerdy game, so maybe it will be too uncool for my son. All I know is that I’m currently undefeated in the game. I expect to still make a pretty good run at the title even after I get someone else to play with me!
I was so shocked by this, and I wasn’t exactly sure that I’d heard it correctly. But I have been able to recreate it. I started to wonder if Apple coded this “feature” on purpose to make the experience more human and relatable.
“In the red corner, representing the prosecution with a record of 32 wins and 1 loss the reigning middleweight champion of Denton County, Carl “The Iceman” Thompson!
“And in the blue corner, representing the defense with a record of 17 wins and 10 losses the challenger, Ryan “The Lion” McKenzie!
“Our trial is brought to you today by Mike’s Hard Lemonade. If you think being in an accident with an eighteen wheeler is hard, then you haven’t tried Mike’s. Stop and grab some after the trial at any local convenience store.
“Officiating our trial today is Judge Lance “The Bulldog” Lee. He’s just finished going over the rules with our combatants, and we’re ready for our bout. Take your seats and enjoy the show. Let’s…get…ready…to…RUMBLE!!!”
So,
I concluded that there must be a bird convention in town that they were all
headed to. I’m not sure what sorts of things a bird would learn at a
convention…current bug population migratory patterns and what to eat and what
to avoid, latest innovations and color patterns in nest building, what’s in and
what’s out this year in feather fashion?! Whatever it is, hundreds of birds had
dedicatingly gotten up early, braving the icy winds to attend. I swear I saw
one duck flying lower than the others, flapping just a little slower with his
eyes half closed. He must either have had a rough night or he’s not a morning
bird, because he had a camel pack strapped to his back full of coffee, and he
was sucking on that straw like his life depended on it.
I did okay with the grades, passing at least. But the reason my parents would always get pulled into a conference was due to behavioral issues. In the category of “Talks Only with Permission,” I always got a “Needs Improvement.” It wasn’t so much that I talked all the time, which I did. It was why I was talking. I would leave my chair and walk around the room, helping all of the other kids with their tests and assignments.
I guess even then I had a teacher inside me. And I also suspect the teacher was a little jealous because I was better at her job than she was!
My stepfather introduced me to the series from the 1930s about a team of do-gooder adventurers when I was in high school. Apparently, he grew up reading them, and he was excited to find them again. Over the years, it sort of became our thing together. Whenever I’d go to a used bookstore, I’d try to find books to add to his collection. I’d surprise him on Christmases and birthdays with random finds, and he was always excited. With close to 130 books, it seemed a daunting task to ever find them all, but I never gave up hope.
When my stepfather passed away 10 years ago, my mother asked me if there was anything of his that I wanted. The only thing I asked for was his collection of Doc Savage books. They were precious to him, and I felt invested in them as well. It was the best thing I could think of to carry on his memory. Over the years, I have continued to build on the collection whenever I could find additional books. I always dreamed that one day I’d pass along the legacy to my son, and he’d continue the treasure hunt.
Well today, I found a treasure trove! I found 35 additional books that I didn’t have. Apparently, someone had brought in a large collection of the books just last week, and I was fortunate enough to find them before anyone else. Now, I’m only 23 books shy of finishing the journey I started so long ago. So close to fulfilling my stepfather’s legacy. I wish he was here to see it now, to see what it’s turned into. I don’t think either of us ever imagined we’d get this far. There’s still more to find, but the end is definitely in sight. I still intend to pass this legacy to my son. I just hope he appreciates its value as much I do.
But I recently heard the story of Nachum Ish Gamzu, and I’ve changed my perspective on things. Nachum was a Jewish rabbi in the first century known for having unyielding optimism in the face of misfortune. He got his nickname “Gamzu” from a Hebrew phrase that he was known for uttering, “gam zu le-tovah,” which means “this, too, is for the best.”
There is a famous story of Nachum being sent on a mission by the Jews to the Roman emperor to deliver a treasure of great wealth to convince him to rethink a law that was detrimental to them. On the way, Nachum stopped at an inn for the night. The innkeeper and his son stole the treasure from Nachum and replaced it with sand. When Nachum delivered the box to the emperor, he opened it and was furious at the disrespect the Jews had shown him. He had Nachum thrown into prison, but all he said was “gam zu le-tovah,” believing that God would use this for good.
Later that evening, Elijah appeared before the emperor and said, “Surely you do not think the Jews would make fun of you and send you ordinary sand. Maybe it’s the kind that their father Abraham used to defeat his enemies at war? It has been told that Abraham threw handfuls of sand against his enemies that turned into swords and deadly arrows. Maybe it’s that secret weapon. Wouldn’t it be advisable to test this sand that the Jews sent you?”
The emperor was currently fighting a war against the barbarians, so he sent the sand to his generals and ordered them to try it against the enemy. And by a miracle, it thwarted the barbarians and sent them fleeing in terror. The emperor released Nachum, changed the law, and filled his own wooden box with jewels and gold from his treasury.
As he was on his way back home, he stopped at the same inn. Upon hearing of his story, the innkeeper asked him what he gave the emperor that had granted such favor. Nachum said, “Only what I carried from here.” So, the innkeeper and his son dug up their entire property and took the dirt to the emperor. They said, “This is the same dirt that the Jew brought, only we have brought more to make yo even happier!” The emperor tried the dirt from the innkeeper, but no miracle happened this time. So, the emperor ordered the innkeeper and his son to be hung and their bodies buried with the same dirt they had brought with them.
When Nachum heard what happened, he shrugged and said, “gam zu le-tovah.”
“For I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory that is to be revealed to us.”
Romans 8:18
“Set your minds on the things that are above, not on the things that are on earth.”
Colossians 3:2
“The afflictions of the righteous are many, but the Lord rescues him from them all.”
Psalms 34:19
Wait…what?!
He said, “It was like my soul was talking to me.”
“Who are you?” he asked the voice.
“This is Samuel…James…Henderson, and I’ll be your ITL…on this project. If you have any issues…any issues at all…I’ll be the person…that will assist you.”
I guess I wasn’t the only one that had a run-in with that guy.
But
he said the funniest thing was when two bicyclists would get into an
altercation. They’d both pull over and have a “fist fight” on the side of the
road. Of course nobody actually hit anyone. They’d both point at themselves and
angrily ask, “Do you know who my father is?!” Because everyone has a father in
a high position of government in Delhi.
And why the focus on removing sugar, as if that's the only bad thing that’s in a soda? Many studies have raised concerns that regular and diet sodas increase the risk of heart attacks and strokes. They have both been linked to obesity, kidney damage, and certain cancers. Regular sodas have been linked to elevated blood pressure. So, is sugar really the only thing to be worried about with sodas? I’ve never heard of anyone having an increased risk of any of these things from drinking water…just saying.
So today, I went to have an MRI. This was my first experience with an MRI that didn’t involve TV, and I had no idea what to expect. Since it was my knee, they didn’t make me change clothes or anything. I just had to remove everything from my pockets and take off my belt. In hindsight, I probably should have worn sweat pants or something, but I thought shorts might give easier access to my knee. The technician didn’t seem to think there was any issue with the giant magnet ripping my zipper off my pants, so I was okay with it too.
Generally speaking, I’m a relatively calm person. I don’t tend to fidget or need a constant physical outlet like some people. But when someone tells you that you can’t move, then all you want to do is move. So, I was stressing about trying to keep my knee perfectly still. And the more I tried not to move, the more my knee would spasm uncontrollably. So, I started to panic that I was going to screw up the imaging.
I was trying to determine the acceptable movement delta that surely had been calibrated into the machine, because nobody could be perfectly still for 20 minutes. Then, I was trying to determine if I’d exceeded that threshold. This was becoming so mentally exhausting that I eventually dozed off. But when I realized that I had dozed off, I jolted awake with a start. Then, I started to panic that my jolt had exceeded the threshold and started all over again.
While I was dozing, I was consciously aware of the giant magnetic field surrounding my body. I could feel it reverberating across my skin and moving the hairs on my legs. I started to imagine that I was being affected by the field and that it was changing me, imbuing me with superpowers. I dreamed that I was Spider-Man, which is when I woke up.
Then, I started to wonder if I really would get superpowers from this like a bionic leg or something. On one hand it would be cool to be able to run faster and jump higher. On the other hand, it would be inconvenient to only have it on one leg. I imagined myself running in circles because the “normal” leg couldn’t keep up with my new bionic leg. Or trying to jump, only to end up going sideways.
With that, the time just flew by. Twenty minutes seemed more like five. I entertained myself with my overactive imagination. And this is precisely why I shouldn’t be left alone with my thoughts for too long. And in case anyone was wondering, no I didn’t get a bionic leg.
