Monthly Archives: August 2011

The Big D

Do you like roller coasters? When you go to an amusement park, do you immediately head for a roller coaster? Whether yes or no is your answer, I’d have to say from me you’d hear a huge and resounding “No way.” I don’t want anything in my playtime to go up and down while it shakes me this way and that. I think I feel that way because all that shake-up reminds me too much of real life, which is always taking this family for an unexpected ride that feels like a roller coaster. That said for me, those rides are usually a bearable thing. I can hang on throughout the excitement, and look forward to the easier time. But when I play, I don’t want all that excitement. Yet, there are times though, in our real life adventure, when life turns out to be more than “all that excitement.” It is the dull pounding experience of depression.

Call it the blues (if it’s a mild case) or clinical depression (if it’s more advanced)… It still boils down to a slow ride to nowhere, which begins with fatigue. We’re tired of

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The Open Road

My two week vacation… The luggage was packed, the bottled water sat in the front of the car awaiting the next step. So I got into the car, added the seat belt across my body and turned the key. Yes, it was time to turn out onto the freeway and head into traffic once again.

I love to drive… To get behind the wheel and roll across the land, like I’m some warrior princess who needs to conquer a new world. When I left home I was so happy to be gone and heading East on I-40 that I pulled off the freeway and cried right out loud. It’s always so beautiful… The scenery, the open air, the sky just like a canvas that carried me to the next adventure. Even after the tears were dried, it took a while to calm down and drive like it wasn’t the first trip I’d ever taken behind the wheel.

No, it wasn’t the first trip… That was years ago when, I was twenty-one years old and driving a little VW Bug from Arizona to Ohio, where I was invited to come and live and marry a

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The Way We Live

It seems that everyone in this day and age is consumed with worry over the recent continued loss in our economic status that is nation wide. Of course it is a concern. That said, concern is becoming something else that is also real, and not in our best interest.

This morning I received news that a friend had lost his business due to terrible economy. This good man will now have to find a way to continue to work out of his home, since his office doors are now closed. He feels tired, defeated and frustrated; and he is lashing out at those leaders who continue to try to find a solution… The solution which will come too late to save his life long business.

Fatigue from the struggle (not only for this gentleman but for many others) is becoming bitterness and resentment. This recent enemy should be to us a greater concern than the issue of no work… The reason being that when the human heart to survive is beaten down to the point where fingers are directed at this man or that, and this branch of the government and that, we-the-people have ceased to search for

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Food For Thought

It is six o ‘clock in the morning. I’ve just eaten my complimentary “hot” hotel breakfast… Eggs, bread, sausage patty, and something that I thought was potatoes but upon taste bud examination turns out to be a poor excuse for French toast. It was…. Food. And that’s about it.

As I ate my eggs I tried to tell myself that it was tasty, and that if it didn’t taste as good as expected, then I probably was not very hungry. And there is some truth to that, for people in Africa would probably love to have the breakfast of this morning. For they have instead, nothing but swollen and extended abdomens from very real and painful starvation.

When I was a little girl I always wanted to be my daddy’s little princess. My best friend’s father always called her that but to my dad, I was not his princess. I’d think to myself back then, “Geeze, what must it be like to be a princess?” This morning I know.

A princess is one who has everything at her fingertips… nourishment, clothing, a hot bath, a roof over her head, transportation at any

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Passing Time

Today I’ve spent the morning in the solitude of a hotel room. Not much going on in here but me hanging out until my noon meeting. Room service dropped by to end the disarray of last night. Throughout her visit, the air vent blasted cool air in the background of her conversation.

A train whistle now announces the passing of a nine o’clock locomotive. In my mind’s eye, I can picture that scene, for I am back where I grew up. Here in my little hometown, the nine o’clock train meant to me, “be at your desk in class or else.”

It’s just a little town with one movie theater, one high school, one junior college and one address that reads 902 Smithland Avenue, where I lived with my family as a child.

This little town has produced lawyers, politicians, teachers, bankers, mothers and fathers, soldiers, and oh-so-many more good people. We who now pass through this little town (and others like it) don’t always think about who comes out of Little Town, America. Sometimes we even go through life believing that every decision rises and sets on us big city folk. Actually, I think it’s

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