Hot arrived sometime Friday night. Saturday morning it was warming up it's act pretty good. By noon hot pretty well had its act together and managed to polish off the after noon around 90 degrees Fahrenheit. Hot promises an incremental repeat today. That pattern will continue until sometime in, oh say, late September or mid October. Hot comes to visit the South each year and once it arrives, it takes no breaks, no holidays, no weekenders off.
My son called from Statesboro Georgia yesterday. It was 101 degrees there with a heat index, whatever that is, of 128 or so. That most assuredly means the humidity percentage was close to equaling the temperature. If you're not acclimated to it, South Georgia is a most miserable place in the summer months. Those who were born and raised there, just kind of roll with the punch of the temperature and humidity, but not without discomfort. Right now though, we are only getting a reminder of things to come. Hot will really come into full bloom from around the second week of July through about the second week of August. That period isn't called "Dog Days" for its compatibility to dogs. You can look up the Dog Star and all the Dog Days lore on some scientific web site. As for here, the explanation you will get is its the time of year that the weather makes people in the South crazier than usual. Okay, technically it's one of several times of the year that Southerners are crazier than usual.
Anyway, with all the life changes I have coming my way, and the season we are entering where hot has free reign, I imagine the next four months are going to be interesting. Most likely wildly interesting. Even the staid and traditional aspects of Southern culture, have their underlying currents of passion. And, passion has a way of making ripples on the surface of even the deepest waters.
Passion of course is what defines and colors the South as much as anything. Many think of the South as a place steeped in tradition, and it is. But think about it. Passionately upheld tradition starts somewhere and is upheld for a reason. You must understand a Southern passion, before you will understand a tradition. When traditions are broken, passions are toyed with. Toying with passions in the South is a dangerous thing; a very dangerous thing indeed. That's one reason Southerners respect each other's traditions, no matter the degree of eccentricity.
Disrespecting a tradition is an affront to the underlying passion, that can evoke an emotional response which may not be expected. We're talking righteous indignation, anger, deep sorrow, or any combination of emotions, which when acted on, may be somewhat less than sociable. Nuff said? For Southerners who are taught to be respectful and mannerly from childhood, respecting tradition is a no brainer. For you who were raised west of the Mississippi and north of the Mason Dixon, you need to get one major point embedded in your brain before coming South. Respect tradition no matter whether it makes sense or not.
If you will learn and respect, pay homage to even, local traditions, you will get along just fine in the South. That and learning to say please and thank you, and staying out of peoples faces will get you miles of good will. Getting in peoples faces, being demanding, never saying thank you and disrespecting tradition will get you the cold shoulder at the least, and killed at the worst.
To you damnyankees: If you must come South this summer behave yourself. To my fellow Southerners: Please, set a good example for our ignorant visitors from the north. After all, it's a tradition.
I'm off to visit my brother over in York County. Have a good Sunday.
Dread
*(The words South, Southern, and Southerner are traditionally capitalized by the author, while the words north, northern, and northerner are not. You may infer what you will from that.)
Sunday, May 28, 2006
Friday, May 26, 2006
Today has been a pretty nice day. It started out with my frame of mind in the dump. For some reason I dreamed depressing stuff and awoke in a completely distressed and depressed state. A moment of reflection, a prayer, and a prayer answered, put my mind close to being where it should. I was cheered and hopeful. My day passed with mostly gladness and cheer, and ended with hope. God sure has wonderful ways of holding us close when we need to be held and ask it of Him. "Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you." (Matthew 7,7)
The third full moon to fall on the 13th of a month during this year, is done and gone now. The last of that moon phase passed today. When I awoke and checked the moon phase chart this morning, there was one percent of that moon left. Then it passed. A new moon begins. It will be a dark night. But, it will be a new beginning; another moon phase. I forget how many native American moons I am old now. I think about 717 or 718. I don't think you're getting seriously old until you hit a minimum of 1,100. I do know that I have only been up since around six this morning, and I am already seriously sleepy tonight.
Since there is no moon tonight, that means I am writing to you sort of out from beneath the Carolina moon. That's a rather odd occurrence in itself. Ah well, my life shall be shifting, and I have much planning to do. I shall perhaps return to themes in this place more in keeping with at least the general philosophy of the old Carolina Moon, and Beneath the Carolina Moon blogs. I do feel that some continuity with the precedents and maintenance of heritage is necessary. After all, this is the South, and Carolina in particular; the Deep South to you damnyankees and nearsouthernwannabees. This is a long holiday weekender, so who knows, you may hear from me again before Tuesday, assuming I sleep better than last night.
Until laterz,
Dread
The third full moon to fall on the 13th of a month during this year, is done and gone now. The last of that moon phase passed today. When I awoke and checked the moon phase chart this morning, there was one percent of that moon left. Then it passed. A new moon begins. It will be a dark night. But, it will be a new beginning; another moon phase. I forget how many native American moons I am old now. I think about 717 or 718. I don't think you're getting seriously old until you hit a minimum of 1,100. I do know that I have only been up since around six this morning, and I am already seriously sleepy tonight.
Since there is no moon tonight, that means I am writing to you sort of out from beneath the Carolina moon. That's a rather odd occurrence in itself. Ah well, my life shall be shifting, and I have much planning to do. I shall perhaps return to themes in this place more in keeping with at least the general philosophy of the old Carolina Moon, and Beneath the Carolina Moon blogs. I do feel that some continuity with the precedents and maintenance of heritage is necessary. After all, this is the South, and Carolina in particular; the Deep South to you damnyankees and nearsouthernwannabees. This is a long holiday weekender, so who knows, you may hear from me again before Tuesday, assuming I sleep better than last night.
Until laterz,
Dread
Monday, May 22, 2006
Reality and ?
Oh my, Wendy's chili! I had a large serving as a late supper Saturday night. It was tasty. I remember when I was eating the chili wishing that I had a second large serving. That would've been perfect. The second serving would have killed me and I wouldn't have had to suffer the effects of the first. Need I describe my Sunday? Don't worry I won't. Suffice to say my Sunday was not anything like my plan for it, nor anything like I had anticipated. Nothing seems to be quiet as I anticipate lately, which, may or may not be a good thing, according to circumstances and expectations.
Even when things turn out on the plus side, and I expected them to, they seem to turn out positive in ways that are different than I anticipated. That's not a bad thing. I like being pleasantly surprised. Its just the last week or so has made my insightfulness look not so insightful. Which maybe that's not a bad thing either. I should quit relying so much on my own judgment and listen closer for what God has to say, and or just operate more on simple faith. Despite seemingly expanding or experiencing growth in my spiritual aspects over the past year or two, I also seem to be at another spot much like I was with the smoking, where maybe I'm holding on and need to turn loose? Yes I'm asking. I don't clearly have my finger on it.
There are things I wrestle with. There are moral questions with which I wrestle also. The worst thing I wrestle with is myself, or at least it seems that way. I wonder though how much we subconsciously sabotage ourselves. Why in the world did I pick to eat Wendy's chili? Just sudden whim? Softer food since I am waiting to have dental work completed on molars of both sides of my mouth made sense. But, Wendy's chili? It wasn't a conscious decision, to trip out my stomach, but I do have to think it was certainly a short sighted decision. I had planned to pick out a church I had never attended and visit Sunday Morning. Maybe I subconsciously stopped myself, as we used to say as kids, accidentally on purpose. I have to consider that.
Or maybe it was something else. I do have a high degree of Attention Deficit Disorder and tend to do impulsive things. Or it could have been for some other subliminal intent that all of the stomach disruption and queasy feelings came about. We poison and sabotage our lives in other ways with worse than chili, and produce outcomes with lasting implications. Whatever the case, yesterday is history. Any ripples it will cause are set loose. I have today to deal with. God has given me a brand new day to unwrap and use. I should be up and about it.
A thought just spilled through my brain. I'll share it. "We spend our lives trying to shape other peoples' realities so that they will accommodate our reality as we would like to make it." There has to be more to this or a tweaking needed, but just now, I must prep and take off to work. I'll think on this later, I have a plate full of reality already to sort and deal with.
Even when things turn out on the plus side, and I expected them to, they seem to turn out positive in ways that are different than I anticipated. That's not a bad thing. I like being pleasantly surprised. Its just the last week or so has made my insightfulness look not so insightful. Which maybe that's not a bad thing either. I should quit relying so much on my own judgment and listen closer for what God has to say, and or just operate more on simple faith. Despite seemingly expanding or experiencing growth in my spiritual aspects over the past year or two, I also seem to be at another spot much like I was with the smoking, where maybe I'm holding on and need to turn loose? Yes I'm asking. I don't clearly have my finger on it.
There are things I wrestle with. There are moral questions with which I wrestle also. The worst thing I wrestle with is myself, or at least it seems that way. I wonder though how much we subconsciously sabotage ourselves. Why in the world did I pick to eat Wendy's chili? Just sudden whim? Softer food since I am waiting to have dental work completed on molars of both sides of my mouth made sense. But, Wendy's chili? It wasn't a conscious decision, to trip out my stomach, but I do have to think it was certainly a short sighted decision. I had planned to pick out a church I had never attended and visit Sunday Morning. Maybe I subconsciously stopped myself, as we used to say as kids, accidentally on purpose. I have to consider that.
Or maybe it was something else. I do have a high degree of Attention Deficit Disorder and tend to do impulsive things. Or it could have been for some other subliminal intent that all of the stomach disruption and queasy feelings came about. We poison and sabotage our lives in other ways with worse than chili, and produce outcomes with lasting implications. Whatever the case, yesterday is history. Any ripples it will cause are set loose. I have today to deal with. God has given me a brand new day to unwrap and use. I should be up and about it.
A thought just spilled through my brain. I'll share it. "We spend our lives trying to shape other peoples' realities so that they will accommodate our reality as we would like to make it." There has to be more to this or a tweaking needed, but just now, I must prep and take off to work. I'll think on this later, I have a plate full of reality already to sort and deal with.
Sunday, May 21, 2006
Better Than Expected
A better than expected day is always a welcome surprise. Yesterday was one. I celebrated three full months of being smoke free. I also celebrated one full week of being nicotine lozenge free. I began the Commit Lozenge nicotine replacement program thirteen weeks ago, it ended last week. It was God and the Holy Spirit that led me to the program, sustained me though it and continues to strengthen me in ways that amaze me.
Also my dearest and I attended a funeral yesterday that, because of the circumstances of the death, I went into with apprehension, and honestly low expectations. However God's hand was upon the assembly of believers, and there were celebrations of joy, worship, healing and lifting of spirit. The auditorium of the church truly became a sanctuary of worship and praise, as God's comforts and blessings were shared. Dearest and I received what I felt was a special blessing through attending the event. When we left the church, I felt that I had participated in something very special. And once again, I was reminded of the uniqueness of each of us human beings, and the special unique spice that each of us has to bring to the lives of each other.
Finally, the end of my day wasn't as painful as I had anticipated. I won't be discussing details here, because it's all just too personal. Just suffice to say I felt my prayers for strength, and mental rationality, were answered; and for the most part, an encounter that could have been a disaster, at least seemed to work finally in the right direction. I was left with hope and indication that it did anyway. I suppose time will tell, as God's will is unfolded. I only hope to stay within the bounds of God's will, so that it can be done, and me not meddle it up. It's most interesting and amazing as my life unfolds in a day to day discovery of God's will as it is shared and manifested in ways that are impacting the world and lives around me, and my life is woven with others into His great fabric.
Finally, the evening brought an opportunity to speak again with my dearest. The end of my stressful day was comforted knowing that her love is with me. Yesterday left me somewhat troubled and somewhat joyed, but with more optimism and hope than what I've had or hoped to end the day with. My faith was strengthened. And, I felt a deepening of the bond and understanding that my dearest and I share. I still don't understand what I could ever do to deserve the warm and tender love of such an amazing and wonderful woman. God has blessed me so richly, especially in bringing this dear woman into my life. Then, she gives me her love! I can't figure what other earthly blessings could possibly surpass those two. Just to have this amazing woman touching my life is fantastically wonderful. To have her say to me that I am the man for her life, to whom she gives her heart totally and completely, is overwhelming to me. Humbling. I keep waiting for someone to announce that an error was made in filling out the love form, and that I must leave my place and go to the back of the line. You know what? I would stand in line a thousand years to get back to her again.
The sweet tenderness of her love, that she gives freely to me from the depths of her heart, I can't possibly describe with words. I won't try to here today. My love for her? I've been trying to put it into words, deeds, and any other form I can to express it to her, for months now. I'm not satisfied that my love for her can ever be sufficiently expressed. What's most important to me is that she can feel my love the way I can feel hers. Words, especially in this forum, would never adequately express what we share between us, and even if it were possible, I think I would keep that just between she and I. The realization of something that wonderful would only make the rest of the world feel left out or jealous, so I guess it's best that our language does have limitations. And, with that mention of limits, I think I'll cap this blog entry right here. Its the beginning of a new day. I almost expect it to be better than expected.
Also my dearest and I attended a funeral yesterday that, because of the circumstances of the death, I went into with apprehension, and honestly low expectations. However God's hand was upon the assembly of believers, and there were celebrations of joy, worship, healing and lifting of spirit. The auditorium of the church truly became a sanctuary of worship and praise, as God's comforts and blessings were shared. Dearest and I received what I felt was a special blessing through attending the event. When we left the church, I felt that I had participated in something very special. And once again, I was reminded of the uniqueness of each of us human beings, and the special unique spice that each of us has to bring to the lives of each other.
Finally, the end of my day wasn't as painful as I had anticipated. I won't be discussing details here, because it's all just too personal. Just suffice to say I felt my prayers for strength, and mental rationality, were answered; and for the most part, an encounter that could have been a disaster, at least seemed to work finally in the right direction. I was left with hope and indication that it did anyway. I suppose time will tell, as God's will is unfolded. I only hope to stay within the bounds of God's will, so that it can be done, and me not meddle it up. It's most interesting and amazing as my life unfolds in a day to day discovery of God's will as it is shared and manifested in ways that are impacting the world and lives around me, and my life is woven with others into His great fabric.
Finally, the evening brought an opportunity to speak again with my dearest. The end of my stressful day was comforted knowing that her love is with me. Yesterday left me somewhat troubled and somewhat joyed, but with more optimism and hope than what I've had or hoped to end the day with. My faith was strengthened. And, I felt a deepening of the bond and understanding that my dearest and I share. I still don't understand what I could ever do to deserve the warm and tender love of such an amazing and wonderful woman. God has blessed me so richly, especially in bringing this dear woman into my life. Then, she gives me her love! I can't figure what other earthly blessings could possibly surpass those two. Just to have this amazing woman touching my life is fantastically wonderful. To have her say to me that I am the man for her life, to whom she gives her heart totally and completely, is overwhelming to me. Humbling. I keep waiting for someone to announce that an error was made in filling out the love form, and that I must leave my place and go to the back of the line. You know what? I would stand in line a thousand years to get back to her again.
The sweet tenderness of her love, that she gives freely to me from the depths of her heart, I can't possibly describe with words. I won't try to here today. My love for her? I've been trying to put it into words, deeds, and any other form I can to express it to her, for months now. I'm not satisfied that my love for her can ever be sufficiently expressed. What's most important to me is that she can feel my love the way I can feel hers. Words, especially in this forum, would never adequately express what we share between us, and even if it were possible, I think I would keep that just between she and I. The realization of something that wonderful would only make the rest of the world feel left out or jealous, so I guess it's best that our language does have limitations. And, with that mention of limits, I think I'll cap this blog entry right here. Its the beginning of a new day. I almost expect it to be better than expected.
Friday, May 19, 2006
Blessed
Those who know me well, know I despise cold weather. Cold hurts, it cuts, it just feels cruel, lacks warmth, robs life and is generally a quality of death. Winter is cold, bleak, dark and dreary. Stuff dies in winter. Therefore I generally despise winter. It makes life rough, hard to survive, and generally is a downer. But enough about the bad stuff. The warmth of the Southern sun has been growing for some weeks now and will continue. Spring brought with it an optimism that pulled me out of my winter of discontent, and now, I am ready for a season of warmth and brightness. With any luck, its here! I am certainly ready for it! For some reason, I can easily imagine that the fruits of my summers past will never match the fruits of this season about to unfold.
This area of the South where I live is known for, among other things, the annual peach crop. Depending on who you ask about the taste of a fresh off the tree peach, it may be judged as either tart, or sweet. It seems life is that way too. The same circumstances can be judged by two different people just as opposingly. Life changing circumstances are often how we choose to view them; as an emerging opportunity, or as the end of life as we have known it. Is it all in our perspective, attitude, and belief? Simply put, no. But, those do make a difference. The conviction of faith, and Divine guidance will fill out most of the rest. But then, there always remains that little part that God surprises us with, just to keep it all interesting I suppose.
I don't know if I'm making sense, but all I know is, I have seen two people subjected to the exact same life circumstances and changes, and one of them considered their life totally wrecked, and the other considered their life blessed. I am looking forward to a blessed summer. I hope you are too.
This area of the South where I live is known for, among other things, the annual peach crop. Depending on who you ask about the taste of a fresh off the tree peach, it may be judged as either tart, or sweet. It seems life is that way too. The same circumstances can be judged by two different people just as opposingly. Life changing circumstances are often how we choose to view them; as an emerging opportunity, or as the end of life as we have known it. Is it all in our perspective, attitude, and belief? Simply put, no. But, those do make a difference. The conviction of faith, and Divine guidance will fill out most of the rest. But then, there always remains that little part that God surprises us with, just to keep it all interesting I suppose.
I don't know if I'm making sense, but all I know is, I have seen two people subjected to the exact same life circumstances and changes, and one of them considered their life totally wrecked, and the other considered their life blessed. I am looking forward to a blessed summer. I hope you are too.
Sunday, May 14, 2006
Incredible
I started this post on Sunday, May 14 and finished it, posting it on Wednesday May 17. I don't understand why the blog shows it as a Sunday post ( glitch in the blogware I imagine). Anywho,
EFFECTIVE Post Date: WEDNESDAY, MAY 17
Day five, (or 120 hours since any nicotine ingestion) into so called final release from addiction, and I'm not doing too shabbily. I've been in worse straights for sure, and for the most part am having very few moments of flashback craving. Since I choose to not have any current craving, any cravings that I feel must of course be simply flashbacks, echoing from my errant past. If you're not privy to what I've been into for the past twelve weeks, and most readers won't be, then you'll need an explanation of what I'm talking about here. Use of the words "nicotine" and "addiction" in the same sentence fairly well hints at a "smoking cessation program", as they are popularly called in politically correct circles these days. As the twelve step people say, I am a recovering addict.
Oh my! Now that I've said it, "recovering addict", sounds so gauche! I feel like some nasty street wino person who, though bathed, still has a nasty pal over them. Oh well, I suspect I'll get over it. Actually a "chemical addiction" is exactly how I had come to view and define my previous life as a ciggy smoker. I had come to hate being tethered to the weed, and all the nastiness of ashes and tiny burn holes in clothes, upholstery, etc. Plus, people generally acted as though it stank somewhere on a scale between a rotting corpse and a skunk with PMS.
I never realized until after having not smoked for a few weeks, just how understated most people had been in their reaction to second hand smoke. I've come to feel that there is no such thing as second hand smoke. It spews out of your mouth, nose and cigarette tips all first hand, and it all smells like a rotting skunk corpse! I choose not to smoke now, and fairly well don't like people imposing their smoke into the air I must breath. I tried to respect the air space of others even back when I did smoke. I certainly didn't realize it was the stanky air choker that it is, or I would have switched to inhaling burning incense, or perhaps burning cow dung instead of tobacco. Whatever though, I have now left it all behind.
Anywho, the past being the past and the present being the present; twelve weeks ago I stood in line at a drug store check out when the cashier had a problem with a check scan. The Walgreen's of course only had one cashier and one register open, so the rest of us with purchases ready to go, had to cool our heels while the "I'm new" cashier waited on the fearless store manager to rescue her from the errant check scanning machine. Having eye scanned every item within immediate visual range of the checkout, and still no manager having answered the cashier's panicked page, (he must have been outside on a smoke break) I turned and began to scan items across the aisle near the other, unattended, checkout. It was there that my eyes spotted the Commit Lozenges. Now let me back up a little further in time.
For some time back, I had felt the need to give up tobacco, particularly my brand of tobacco poison, cigarettes. I had tried to quit on my own several times, and always at some short term point went back to smoking. I tried the nicotine chewing gum and had wound up with a raw mouth and gum withdrawal. Cold turkey, just ran me nutty. I probably would have killed someone if I hadn't started smoking again. So my efforts over the years to kick the addiction of tobacco, were fruitless. But by a winding path to the right path, I finally connected with the solutions and the simple process of kicking addiction. Something that had been left out of all of my previous attempts, put me over the top.
Would you believe in all my attempts to overcome the addiction before, none of them included prayer? How stupid is that? Very? Well it happened! My nutty logic was that something as abhorrent as an addiction would keep me from fully connecting with God, and that the addiction had to be overcome before I could make the kind of connection or relationship with God that I sought. Therefore, it seemed to me, I couldn't ask for help with the addiction, and that I had to just kick it on my own to put God before my addiction. Okay, I get strange mind logic going sometimes without even thinking. Gratefully, I woke up, claimed the forgiveness that is always available to us through the sacrifice of Jesus Christ, prayed for forgiveness of my addiction and for help to be rid of it in a manner that didn't make me completely crazy. That brings us back to the Walgreen's Drug Store counter, and the Commit lozenges.
Standing there at that counter, when my eyes fell on the lozenges, it was as though I heard a voice, only I didn't, that told me to try the lozenges, and said, "that's it, get those." or something very similar. The next, as though it was a voice in my head, thing that came to me I will never forget. The voice that wasn't a voice said, "You do your part and I'll do mine!". I picked up the box, looked it over and chose the lesser of the two nicotine dosage levels, and as they say, the rest is history. While I have to put in a pitch for the Commit Lozenges, I have been giving credit where it is due and will continue to do so. To God be the glory! It was simply my prayers being answered that has brought me down the path away from addiction. The lozenges made it easy on me, and I suffered not. I reached out in an act of faith, and God then did as He said He would. He did his part, and did it magnificently!
Commit lozenges are a way to deliver a type of nicotine to the human body to replace cigarettes. Replacement therapy I guess is what you would call the process. In three or four days you get stabilized on the lozenges and then begin the process of getting used to lozenges instead of cigarettes. After some weeks, you begin cutting the dosage down until 12 weeks later you dwindle your daily dose to zero. Last Friday morning was my last daily dose. Saturday I went solo, except for peppermint candy, which I promptly overdosed on if that's at all possible. Sunday I switched to butterscotch, and Monday a combination of butterscotch, cinnamon, and peppermint. Today, I have managed to not choke myself on hard candy. Do I still have an urge to smoke, yeah a few seconds a few times a day. Usually within a few seconds though, my mind is on something else and its forgotten. This has been a really slick process!
I haven't smoked since somewhere before 3:00 or there about on a Saturday over 12 weeks ago. I haven't used a nicotine lozenge since last Friday morning. The lozenge pack seemed to read like the end of the 12 weeks was the end of your cessation program. I don't think so! I am currently trying to work my way off of the hard candy that I replaced the lozenges with. When I've kicked the peppermint, butterscotch, cinnamon addiction, I'll let you know here. Meanwhile, I will continue to pray for God's grace and blessing to keep me addiction free. No I actually don't think I'm addicted to hard candy.
Oh, by the way, there is one other very important thing I must do before signing off for this entry. There is one special, awesome, amazing, sweet woman, who has supported me through this whole process, prayed for me, and kept me close. Thank you my dear! Please continue to pray for me! If the devil made me choose between your prayers and your love, I would have to pray to God for help in whipping the devil, because I really must have both, your prayers and your love! Thankfully, I don't have to choose. I am blessed beyond measure! Being loved by both God and the special someone that I love is the most awesome existence imaginable!
There looms a couple of more immediate hurdles in my life's path. I will get over them, or around them. God will open a way and use the path he guides me through for his work. Troubles will come to the righteous and the wicked alike, as to the saved and the lost, only the righteous and the saved will have the strength of God, the gift of Christ's forgiveness, and the Holy Spirit to guide them. Comfort, guidance and confidence accompany those who wait upon the Lord. When God's love is poured out, only those who hold their cup under the fountain will be filled. Love unaccepted is like sound upon deaf ears. Accepting God's love? Indescribably incredible!
EFFECTIVE Post Date: WEDNESDAY, MAY 17
Day five, (or 120 hours since any nicotine ingestion) into so called final release from addiction, and I'm not doing too shabbily. I've been in worse straights for sure, and for the most part am having very few moments of flashback craving. Since I choose to not have any current craving, any cravings that I feel must of course be simply flashbacks, echoing from my errant past. If you're not privy to what I've been into for the past twelve weeks, and most readers won't be, then you'll need an explanation of what I'm talking about here. Use of the words "nicotine" and "addiction" in the same sentence fairly well hints at a "smoking cessation program", as they are popularly called in politically correct circles these days. As the twelve step people say, I am a recovering addict.
Oh my! Now that I've said it, "recovering addict", sounds so gauche! I feel like some nasty street wino person who, though bathed, still has a nasty pal over them. Oh well, I suspect I'll get over it. Actually a "chemical addiction" is exactly how I had come to view and define my previous life as a ciggy smoker. I had come to hate being tethered to the weed, and all the nastiness of ashes and tiny burn holes in clothes, upholstery, etc. Plus, people generally acted as though it stank somewhere on a scale between a rotting corpse and a skunk with PMS.
I never realized until after having not smoked for a few weeks, just how understated most people had been in their reaction to second hand smoke. I've come to feel that there is no such thing as second hand smoke. It spews out of your mouth, nose and cigarette tips all first hand, and it all smells like a rotting skunk corpse! I choose not to smoke now, and fairly well don't like people imposing their smoke into the air I must breath. I tried to respect the air space of others even back when I did smoke. I certainly didn't realize it was the stanky air choker that it is, or I would have switched to inhaling burning incense, or perhaps burning cow dung instead of tobacco. Whatever though, I have now left it all behind.
Anywho, the past being the past and the present being the present; twelve weeks ago I stood in line at a drug store check out when the cashier had a problem with a check scan. The Walgreen's of course only had one cashier and one register open, so the rest of us with purchases ready to go, had to cool our heels while the "I'm new" cashier waited on the fearless store manager to rescue her from the errant check scanning machine. Having eye scanned every item within immediate visual range of the checkout, and still no manager having answered the cashier's panicked page, (he must have been outside on a smoke break) I turned and began to scan items across the aisle near the other, unattended, checkout. It was there that my eyes spotted the Commit Lozenges. Now let me back up a little further in time.
For some time back, I had felt the need to give up tobacco, particularly my brand of tobacco poison, cigarettes. I had tried to quit on my own several times, and always at some short term point went back to smoking. I tried the nicotine chewing gum and had wound up with a raw mouth and gum withdrawal. Cold turkey, just ran me nutty. I probably would have killed someone if I hadn't started smoking again. So my efforts over the years to kick the addiction of tobacco, were fruitless. But by a winding path to the right path, I finally connected with the solutions and the simple process of kicking addiction. Something that had been left out of all of my previous attempts, put me over the top.
Would you believe in all my attempts to overcome the addiction before, none of them included prayer? How stupid is that? Very? Well it happened! My nutty logic was that something as abhorrent as an addiction would keep me from fully connecting with God, and that the addiction had to be overcome before I could make the kind of connection or relationship with God that I sought. Therefore, it seemed to me, I couldn't ask for help with the addiction, and that I had to just kick it on my own to put God before my addiction. Okay, I get strange mind logic going sometimes without even thinking. Gratefully, I woke up, claimed the forgiveness that is always available to us through the sacrifice of Jesus Christ, prayed for forgiveness of my addiction and for help to be rid of it in a manner that didn't make me completely crazy. That brings us back to the Walgreen's Drug Store counter, and the Commit lozenges.
Standing there at that counter, when my eyes fell on the lozenges, it was as though I heard a voice, only I didn't, that told me to try the lozenges, and said, "that's it, get those." or something very similar. The next, as though it was a voice in my head, thing that came to me I will never forget. The voice that wasn't a voice said, "You do your part and I'll do mine!". I picked up the box, looked it over and chose the lesser of the two nicotine dosage levels, and as they say, the rest is history. While I have to put in a pitch for the Commit Lozenges, I have been giving credit where it is due and will continue to do so. To God be the glory! It was simply my prayers being answered that has brought me down the path away from addiction. The lozenges made it easy on me, and I suffered not. I reached out in an act of faith, and God then did as He said He would. He did his part, and did it magnificently!
Commit lozenges are a way to deliver a type of nicotine to the human body to replace cigarettes. Replacement therapy I guess is what you would call the process. In three or four days you get stabilized on the lozenges and then begin the process of getting used to lozenges instead of cigarettes. After some weeks, you begin cutting the dosage down until 12 weeks later you dwindle your daily dose to zero. Last Friday morning was my last daily dose. Saturday I went solo, except for peppermint candy, which I promptly overdosed on if that's at all possible. Sunday I switched to butterscotch, and Monday a combination of butterscotch, cinnamon, and peppermint. Today, I have managed to not choke myself on hard candy. Do I still have an urge to smoke, yeah a few seconds a few times a day. Usually within a few seconds though, my mind is on something else and its forgotten. This has been a really slick process!
I haven't smoked since somewhere before 3:00 or there about on a Saturday over 12 weeks ago. I haven't used a nicotine lozenge since last Friday morning. The lozenge pack seemed to read like the end of the 12 weeks was the end of your cessation program. I don't think so! I am currently trying to work my way off of the hard candy that I replaced the lozenges with. When I've kicked the peppermint, butterscotch, cinnamon addiction, I'll let you know here. Meanwhile, I will continue to pray for God's grace and blessing to keep me addiction free. No I actually don't think I'm addicted to hard candy.
Oh, by the way, there is one other very important thing I must do before signing off for this entry. There is one special, awesome, amazing, sweet woman, who has supported me through this whole process, prayed for me, and kept me close. Thank you my dear! Please continue to pray for me! If the devil made me choose between your prayers and your love, I would have to pray to God for help in whipping the devil, because I really must have both, your prayers and your love! Thankfully, I don't have to choose. I am blessed beyond measure! Being loved by both God and the special someone that I love is the most awesome existence imaginable!
There looms a couple of more immediate hurdles in my life's path. I will get over them, or around them. God will open a way and use the path he guides me through for his work. Troubles will come to the righteous and the wicked alike, as to the saved and the lost, only the righteous and the saved will have the strength of God, the gift of Christ's forgiveness, and the Holy Spirit to guide them. Comfort, guidance and confidence accompany those who wait upon the Lord. When God's love is poured out, only those who hold their cup under the fountain will be filled. Love unaccepted is like sound upon deaf ears. Accepting God's love? Indescribably incredible!
Thursday, May 11, 2006
Stay Close
A moon phase feature was added to the blog sidebar today. I am particularly wary of this month's moon. There has been much afoot this month so far that is not good. This month, the full moon falls on the 13th at 6:51 AM. There have been pointers to this month for a long time now, at least six months; and particularly this time of the month, just before the halfway point. I can't explain it, just suffice to say, I was led to know at least six months ago that this was a significant time for significant changes. With all of the turmoil that has come along already this month, to say the least, I am anxious about the approach of this full moon phase.
In early February I was filled with a strange gut knowledge that a phase change of my life of some sort was imminent. I felt even stronger that it would be a phase change of magnitude that reached beyond my life, but also encompassed much more. Then I just happened to notice that the moon was full that day. I strangely knew that it was some type of life phase change. Little did I know what was really in store for me or the whole perimeter about me. Wow what small seeds have burst forth into surprisingly large things since then! My life has changed forever! My relationships here on this earth have changed or are still in process of changing forever; changing in huge ways! My eyes, my heart, my entire being has been opened to so much like never before. God has blessed me richly since that time, and my entire being has been changing and growing.
There have been many soul shaking experiences for me since, such as experiencing the Holy Spirit and knowing it was there, being taught, shown insight and knowledge by the Spirit and finding fully the life mate that God had prepared for me to love and be loved by. I have been joyed by the growth of my relationship with God the Father, by way of the forgiveness He offers us through His Son, which opened all the doors for goodness that have come to me. I cannot explain all the positive change in this brief writing. Many of them escape words as they are spiritual and evoke emotions beyond words. That full moon in February, when it was revealed to me that a phase of life change was coming, also was on the 13th. This current phase has worried me though, because so many dark things have been happening, or it has been indicated they are happening, because of less than righteous motivations of some people. But, where there is faith there is hope, and I have love. God is love and will see us through.
No doubt when people begin to move along the path laid down by God, the dark one begins to make all manner of distraction and stormy noise, to try to get them to flee off the path. Those attempted distractions should be expected. As long as we keep faith, hope and trust in God, with mutual love He will keep us safe in His arms.
I found it interesting when I looked at a moon phase chart this morning, that April also had a full moon on the 13th. In fact, this is the only year in this decade that has the full moon occurring three times on the 13th. February was the first occurrence, April the second, and now this Saturday will be the third. That particular arrangement is interesting itself. The third and last occurrence of the full moon on the 13th day of the month for this year. The moon was full on the 13th twice in 2000, once in 2003, and will next occur once in 2008. That's it for the entire decade. Maybe there is meaning in this oddity, or maybe not. I find the ominous rumblings around this year's third occurrence of the moon being full on the 13th, at least curious. Yep. Curious.
If you haven't prayed sincerely lately, I suggest you do so for at least the next three days, beginning today. As we stay close with God, God will stay close with us.
In early February I was filled with a strange gut knowledge that a phase change of my life of some sort was imminent. I felt even stronger that it would be a phase change of magnitude that reached beyond my life, but also encompassed much more. Then I just happened to notice that the moon was full that day. I strangely knew that it was some type of life phase change. Little did I know what was really in store for me or the whole perimeter about me. Wow what small seeds have burst forth into surprisingly large things since then! My life has changed forever! My relationships here on this earth have changed or are still in process of changing forever; changing in huge ways! My eyes, my heart, my entire being has been opened to so much like never before. God has blessed me richly since that time, and my entire being has been changing and growing.
There have been many soul shaking experiences for me since, such as experiencing the Holy Spirit and knowing it was there, being taught, shown insight and knowledge by the Spirit and finding fully the life mate that God had prepared for me to love and be loved by. I have been joyed by the growth of my relationship with God the Father, by way of the forgiveness He offers us through His Son, which opened all the doors for goodness that have come to me. I cannot explain all the positive change in this brief writing. Many of them escape words as they are spiritual and evoke emotions beyond words. That full moon in February, when it was revealed to me that a phase of life change was coming, also was on the 13th. This current phase has worried me though, because so many dark things have been happening, or it has been indicated they are happening, because of less than righteous motivations of some people. But, where there is faith there is hope, and I have love. God is love and will see us through.
No doubt when people begin to move along the path laid down by God, the dark one begins to make all manner of distraction and stormy noise, to try to get them to flee off the path. Those attempted distractions should be expected. As long as we keep faith, hope and trust in God, with mutual love He will keep us safe in His arms.
I found it interesting when I looked at a moon phase chart this morning, that April also had a full moon on the 13th. In fact, this is the only year in this decade that has the full moon occurring three times on the 13th. February was the first occurrence, April the second, and now this Saturday will be the third. That particular arrangement is interesting itself. The third and last occurrence of the full moon on the 13th day of the month for this year. The moon was full on the 13th twice in 2000, once in 2003, and will next occur once in 2008. That's it for the entire decade. Maybe there is meaning in this oddity, or maybe not. I find the ominous rumblings around this year's third occurrence of the moon being full on the 13th, at least curious. Yep. Curious.
If you haven't prayed sincerely lately, I suggest you do so for at least the next three days, beginning today. As we stay close with God, God will stay close with us.
Tuesday, May 09, 2006
A Reflection
I was tempted to take down Saturday's post after reading over it last night. To me it seems the most rambling disconnect that I've ever written. That probably says something of my mental state coming off of the past week. What a horrible eye opening experience that week was.
Tom Wolf was right. You can't go home again. The building I work in was my work home for many years, then I left to work elsewhere. Yet, after returning there to work, almost two years ago, it has never been the same as it was the first time, and can't be. It's been like leaving a ship as a sailor, and returning as an admiral. Which puts Wolf's philosophy into a frame for me. To me what Wolf is saying is that the clock doesn't click backward for any of us. It doesn't stand still, and once the page of the calendar is flipped you can't turn it back; not that I would want to. I wouldn't.
If we look at our lives with an eye for what holds meaning and value for us, the saying, "Home is where the heart is.", rings very true. And, so does the saying, "A house does not make a home." Currently my heart has found a home, and its not in a house. Its not in a building at all. The home of my heart is within the heart of the one whose heart lives within mine. Unless you are mutually in love with someone, that statement likely confuses you. My heart has found its home and that home, that sweet, sweet, heart, has found its home in my heart. What sweet bliss we have found as our hearts share this new place that was formed as they joined to make a home for both!
The scientist marvels at the earth's creation, the stars, and the universe, and knows that there is a God. I marvel that two souls created apart by time and space, find their paths to each other, and then join in a spiritual completion to become a new and greater creation, and I know there is a God, and that His plan is as vast as the universe, and as minute as an electron, and as intimate as my own thoughts. I am awed by each moment of existence as each moment is unveiled. That I am, my love is, and that each of us can be, a part of that vast harmonic plan, is awesome.
As one of my favorite authors, Og Mandino would say, "I greet this day with love in my heart!"
The clock beckons and I must go. Until next time...
Tom Wolf was right. You can't go home again. The building I work in was my work home for many years, then I left to work elsewhere. Yet, after returning there to work, almost two years ago, it has never been the same as it was the first time, and can't be. It's been like leaving a ship as a sailor, and returning as an admiral. Which puts Wolf's philosophy into a frame for me. To me what Wolf is saying is that the clock doesn't click backward for any of us. It doesn't stand still, and once the page of the calendar is flipped you can't turn it back; not that I would want to. I wouldn't.
If we look at our lives with an eye for what holds meaning and value for us, the saying, "Home is where the heart is.", rings very true. And, so does the saying, "A house does not make a home." Currently my heart has found a home, and its not in a house. Its not in a building at all. The home of my heart is within the heart of the one whose heart lives within mine. Unless you are mutually in love with someone, that statement likely confuses you. My heart has found its home and that home, that sweet, sweet, heart, has found its home in my heart. What sweet bliss we have found as our hearts share this new place that was formed as they joined to make a home for both!
The scientist marvels at the earth's creation, the stars, and the universe, and knows that there is a God. I marvel that two souls created apart by time and space, find their paths to each other, and then join in a spiritual completion to become a new and greater creation, and I know there is a God, and that His plan is as vast as the universe, and as minute as an electron, and as intimate as my own thoughts. I am awed by each moment of existence as each moment is unveiled. That I am, my love is, and that each of us can be, a part of that vast harmonic plan, is awesome.
As one of my favorite authors, Og Mandino would say, "I greet this day with love in my heart!"
The clock beckons and I must go. Until next time...
Saturday, May 06, 2006
Passions
Tough as a game rooster, tenacious as a snapping turtle, and as entwining and toxic as poison oak, describes fairly well what a Southerner's enemy gets for an opponent, or as it may be, opponents. The distinct problem with offending a Southerner in a matter of moral principle, is that we always have sympathetic kindred at hand. Certain offenses of moral turpitude seem to strike a common nerve in some families, and in such a high and aggravated manner, that the offense extends to aunts, uncles, cousins several times removed, and even "rumored to be" kin. That kind of ripple on the water can extend its perimeter to include several counties or even states.
Messing up at that level usually results in relocation of the offending party, and not necessarily as a guest of the witness protection program. While those cases are not the norm, within my lifetime, I have watched several develop and play out among my arena of friends and family. None of them are ever pretty, and are about as messy as a fiery divorce. Actually, some of them involved fiery divorces. At any rate, Southern passions run deep and wide, and once ignited, have a tendency to blow themselves into a fire storm.
For Southerners, this is a sufficient reminder that's not even necessary. For the rest of you, and especially those that don't take me seriously, you'll find my two previous paragraphs are, perhaps the most understated warning of your lifetime. One thing Southerners have an abundance of is passion. Whatever arena our lives play out on, our lives are fueled with passion. You must get the full embrace of the word passion to quiet understand that. And you must understand just how encompassing, extensive, and numerous, a Southerner's passions may be.
For example, I happen to have a picky part of me that holds a high regard for truth, trustworthiness, and loyalty. These are sometimes lip service items for damnyankee carpetbaggers, midwestern empire builders, and westcoast trend setters, but seldom taken seriously by any of them, nor do they expect anyone to truly uphold or try to live by those principles. I do, as do many people I know. We are not naive idealists, who need to wake up to the real world. We simply have a disgust for the deceitful, who would feign these principles as a characteristic, while not truly embracing them. That kind of deceit when presented to me, will permit me to bite my tongue with a clean conscious, while a boulder drops on the offending, deceitful, clueless, head.
A Southerner, no matter how upright, feels little obligation to salvage the life of a scoundrel, although we will lament the loss of any redeeming qualities the scoundrel may have possessed or demonstrated as even a minute byproduct of their life. By doing so, we are permitted to memorialize the departed's life and death as "tragic", instead of just purely a "total waste of his mother's milk". This always seems so much more civil and gracious, and just the more mannerly approach. Especially so, if the departed scoundrel is survived by a mother. After all, she is only responsible for providing half of the disagreeable gene pool.
It seems I have rambled today from moral turpitude to motherhood. So, I'll stop here, as Mother's Day is approaching and my whole purpose in posting today was to point out just how lowlife and worthless I deem a certain scoundrel to whom truth, loyalty, and trustworthiness are sucker principles. Motherhood, I will leave as a subject for another day when I am addressing matters of respect.
Today, I've written what I have due to a scoundrel. Of course being Southern, politeness, precludes my actually naming him here, or embarrassing his mother with a description of his antics. Suffice to say though, there are plenty of boulders up there on the mountainside, that just as a result of natures own gravity will be sailing downward. I haven't the slightest inclination to shout out warnings, neither do my kith nor kin.
You see, here in the South, you don't have to scream or rave to be passionate. Even silence can be a passionate thing of consequence. Somehow, life and passion are always more than meets the eye or ear, nose or actually any of the five senses. At least its that way here; beneath the Carolina moon.
Messing up at that level usually results in relocation of the offending party, and not necessarily as a guest of the witness protection program. While those cases are not the norm, within my lifetime, I have watched several develop and play out among my arena of friends and family. None of them are ever pretty, and are about as messy as a fiery divorce. Actually, some of them involved fiery divorces. At any rate, Southern passions run deep and wide, and once ignited, have a tendency to blow themselves into a fire storm.
For Southerners, this is a sufficient reminder that's not even necessary. For the rest of you, and especially those that don't take me seriously, you'll find my two previous paragraphs are, perhaps the most understated warning of your lifetime. One thing Southerners have an abundance of is passion. Whatever arena our lives play out on, our lives are fueled with passion. You must get the full embrace of the word passion to quiet understand that. And you must understand just how encompassing, extensive, and numerous, a Southerner's passions may be.
For example, I happen to have a picky part of me that holds a high regard for truth, trustworthiness, and loyalty. These are sometimes lip service items for damnyankee carpetbaggers, midwestern empire builders, and westcoast trend setters, but seldom taken seriously by any of them, nor do they expect anyone to truly uphold or try to live by those principles. I do, as do many people I know. We are not naive idealists, who need to wake up to the real world. We simply have a disgust for the deceitful, who would feign these principles as a characteristic, while not truly embracing them. That kind of deceit when presented to me, will permit me to bite my tongue with a clean conscious, while a boulder drops on the offending, deceitful, clueless, head.
A Southerner, no matter how upright, feels little obligation to salvage the life of a scoundrel, although we will lament the loss of any redeeming qualities the scoundrel may have possessed or demonstrated as even a minute byproduct of their life. By doing so, we are permitted to memorialize the departed's life and death as "tragic", instead of just purely a "total waste of his mother's milk". This always seems so much more civil and gracious, and just the more mannerly approach. Especially so, if the departed scoundrel is survived by a mother. After all, she is only responsible for providing half of the disagreeable gene pool.
It seems I have rambled today from moral turpitude to motherhood. So, I'll stop here, as Mother's Day is approaching and my whole purpose in posting today was to point out just how lowlife and worthless I deem a certain scoundrel to whom truth, loyalty, and trustworthiness are sucker principles. Motherhood, I will leave as a subject for another day when I am addressing matters of respect.
Today, I've written what I have due to a scoundrel. Of course being Southern, politeness, precludes my actually naming him here, or embarrassing his mother with a description of his antics. Suffice to say though, there are plenty of boulders up there on the mountainside, that just as a result of natures own gravity will be sailing downward. I haven't the slightest inclination to shout out warnings, neither do my kith nor kin.
You see, here in the South, you don't have to scream or rave to be passionate. Even silence can be a passionate thing of consequence. Somehow, life and passion are always more than meets the eye or ear, nose or actually any of the five senses. At least its that way here; beneath the Carolina moon.
Misclick
Alrighty! I'm not totally pleased with this site as a place for my blog. One misclick this morning (Yes just ONE!) and my entire post for today was lost. This came at the end, after spell checking, signing, and getting ready to do a final read through of what should have been the finished post. It wasn't brief either, but said what I felt were some important things. I'm steamed at the moment, and definitely won't be using the on-line compose feature any more. Bah! One click and gone! There's a couple other "lack of" features I'm not so happy with also.
So, for now, I'm debating redeploying my own server again. I'll let my steam from loosing this mornings work settle down first, then consider all the options and combos of options. Right now I have much more important things to be about than this blog. So, I'm off to hopefully get a lot of work done on this Saturday morning.
Until later,
Dread
So, for now, I'm debating redeploying my own server again. I'll let my steam from loosing this mornings work settle down first, then consider all the options and combos of options. Right now I have much more important things to be about than this blog. So, I'm off to hopefully get a lot of work done on this Saturday morning.
Until later,
Dread
Friday, May 05, 2006
A Beginning or a Test?
Yes the title of this post is a question. Using a question for a title is not an unusual habit of mine, so getting it on the table right from the beginning is probably a good idea. Readers can criticize it, get used to it, and get over it. Like many of my eccentricities, it may be obnoxious, but it is also harmless, and truly does little to denigrate the cultural state of humanity. I'm convinced that in some instances at least, the general American culture may actually incrementally rise a click of the ratchet above it's crass base of elitist snobism, by gaining a comfort level with one or more of my cultural semi-abnormalities. I was Southern by birth, and have remained so life long by choice. And, yes I capitalize Southern and Southerner. You other geographic areas may follow your own rules of grammar, punctuation, etc. I have my own.
The punctuation police are not welcome here. Well, actually, they are. They just don't have any authority to make arrests. The laws of punctuation are somewhat different in my world. Perhaps I will waste a post explaining those sometime, but just now I want to get this first one over with and done. After all, as you will learn, I am not about laws and rules as much as I am about life and living. And, as you will learn, I start sentences with "and" and "but" and a few other world naughty ways. In my world "because you shouldn't" isn't a good enough answer to "why not?".
Anywho, (another of my eccentric word usages you should get used to) being Southern by birth and remaining so by choice, I am obligated to be eccentric. Its a social responsibility all cultured and refined Southerners take seriously and typically demonstrate a lifelong commitment to. Many of us even demonstrate our commitment to the obligation while in the process or throws of dying. An eccentric death is a trademark of a refined eccentric Southern life well lived. I could give many fine examples just from my own family tree, but they would bore my fellow Southerners as common place, and perhaps shock outsiders to the South. So, since I want to neither bore nor chase off my potential readership with shocking offensiveness with my first post, I will only mention those eccentric deaths in future posts, within the fuller context of the lives they were attached to. At least that way, within context of their day to day lives, their deaths will make sense, and neither bore nor shock. And actually, I hope to keep death as an infrequent visitor to this blog. While it is a reality, it most certainly is, under most circumstances at least, unpleasant. And, I don't wish to be unpleasant here.
Sometimes I can be disagreeable, thought provoking even I am told, but unpleasant just isn't exactly what I want to be. One can after all, make a readership uncomfortable, and even on occasion agitate them somewhat, without being unpleasant about it. Civility is also the handmaiden of Southern eccentricity. With civility, one may tell another to just kiss their nether regions or to pursue eternity in a realm of fire and brimstone, and still not be crass.
One thing that gets my dander up is the growing assumption that Southerners are all crass Bubba Rednecks. Bubba Rednecks are actually a race of people spawned by inbreeding of damnyankee carpetbaggers who infused a New York ball park mentality on their offspring. Those people are not true Southerners. These unfortunate half breed lineage of French Canadian convicts who escaped to New York, Boston, and other regions of the northland US of A before invading the South and our gene pool, are driven by their crossed gene pool to be crass, and are rightly so the butt of many jokes. But make no mistake, they are not of true Southern lineage.
A true Southerner will most likely be of Scotch, German, English, or African-East Indian decent, coupled with Native American, Georgia convict, and alligator heritage. We are a refined and cultured people, eccentric for sure, but devoid of crassness. On most occasions, we will continue to smile while you insult and belittle us, and act with graciousness while you smugly try to make fool of or take advantage of us. In fact we will usually do so right up to the the split second before we blow your brains out. Unfortunately, the offenders usually never gain the opportunity to realize that we're not as dumb or gullible as you thought. Those who get the lesson are all dead. The rest of world of smug damnyankees still don't have a clue of what they are dealing with when engaging a true Southerner. The future posts here may clear that matter up, at least somewhat, for those who care to give thought to the subtle insights that hopefully will find their way here. At any rate, I have run the clock with my scribbles here to the hour which I must pry myself from the keyboard and prepare for a workday. Until next time, from beneath the Carolina moon, I bid you well.
Dread
The punctuation police are not welcome here. Well, actually, they are. They just don't have any authority to make arrests. The laws of punctuation are somewhat different in my world. Perhaps I will waste a post explaining those sometime, but just now I want to get this first one over with and done. After all, as you will learn, I am not about laws and rules as much as I am about life and living. And, as you will learn, I start sentences with "and" and "but" and a few other world naughty ways. In my world "because you shouldn't" isn't a good enough answer to "why not?".
Anywho, (another of my eccentric word usages you should get used to) being Southern by birth and remaining so by choice, I am obligated to be eccentric. Its a social responsibility all cultured and refined Southerners take seriously and typically demonstrate a lifelong commitment to. Many of us even demonstrate our commitment to the obligation while in the process or throws of dying. An eccentric death is a trademark of a refined eccentric Southern life well lived. I could give many fine examples just from my own family tree, but they would bore my fellow Southerners as common place, and perhaps shock outsiders to the South. So, since I want to neither bore nor chase off my potential readership with shocking offensiveness with my first post, I will only mention those eccentric deaths in future posts, within the fuller context of the lives they were attached to. At least that way, within context of their day to day lives, their deaths will make sense, and neither bore nor shock. And actually, I hope to keep death as an infrequent visitor to this blog. While it is a reality, it most certainly is, under most circumstances at least, unpleasant. And, I don't wish to be unpleasant here.
Sometimes I can be disagreeable, thought provoking even I am told, but unpleasant just isn't exactly what I want to be. One can after all, make a readership uncomfortable, and even on occasion agitate them somewhat, without being unpleasant about it. Civility is also the handmaiden of Southern eccentricity. With civility, one may tell another to just kiss their nether regions or to pursue eternity in a realm of fire and brimstone, and still not be crass.
One thing that gets my dander up is the growing assumption that Southerners are all crass Bubba Rednecks. Bubba Rednecks are actually a race of people spawned by inbreeding of damnyankee carpetbaggers who infused a New York ball park mentality on their offspring. Those people are not true Southerners. These unfortunate half breed lineage of French Canadian convicts who escaped to New York, Boston, and other regions of the northland US of A before invading the South and our gene pool, are driven by their crossed gene pool to be crass, and are rightly so the butt of many jokes. But make no mistake, they are not of true Southern lineage.
A true Southerner will most likely be of Scotch, German, English, or African-East Indian decent, coupled with Native American, Georgia convict, and alligator heritage. We are a refined and cultured people, eccentric for sure, but devoid of crassness. On most occasions, we will continue to smile while you insult and belittle us, and act with graciousness while you smugly try to make fool of or take advantage of us. In fact we will usually do so right up to the the split second before we blow your brains out. Unfortunately, the offenders usually never gain the opportunity to realize that we're not as dumb or gullible as you thought. Those who get the lesson are all dead. The rest of world of smug damnyankees still don't have a clue of what they are dealing with when engaging a true Southerner. The future posts here may clear that matter up, at least somewhat, for those who care to give thought to the subtle insights that hopefully will find their way here. At any rate, I have run the clock with my scribbles here to the hour which I must pry myself from the keyboard and prepare for a workday. Until next time, from beneath the Carolina moon, I bid you well.
Dread
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