You know, I'll say something about being in recovery with being Bipolar, I'm much cheerier. Marie just told me that it's the Cheerios I'm eating. I must admit, it's better than all of the depression I've been spewing.
So here's something for Marie. She hates it when I call her "baby," but what about when The Boss does it?
This is the day that we celebrate the day of the birth of our Savior. This is the day we welcome Emmanuel, God with us. This is the day the physical presence of God came into our world in the least powerful way of any being, a baby. God's presence can come in any way, but God chose to come powerless, from the womb of a virgin, in a cave in what we call a manger. Danger surrounded him. His being was anything but secure. And He is God. In this moment, the greatest story ever told begins. So Merry Christmas one and all.
So now to the world let me say God bless, and may the coming year be a joyful and glorious year for all of us.
Wednesday, December 25, 2013
Friday, December 20, 2013
Faith and Mental Health
Earlier this week I met with my spiritual director. He said that he read my mental health blog. I asked him what he thought of it. He asked why there was not mention of God. I was struck dumb. It took a moment to come up with the answer "That blog was a clinical approach to my illness and hospitalization." It was quickly followed by, "Now I need to write the spiritual side."
Here's the single most important thing I went into the hospital knowing. I have hope in the Lord our God. Eight words, that's what I got. Let me elaborate.
I had been unemployed for over ten months, and stretched five months of severance over six and a half months. I didn't know how we were going to pay for our insurance, and money literally arrived on the porch. We got kicked out of where we were living, and another place opened up.
Was I thankful for God? Yes I was. Every day. At the same time I was so miserable I couldn't add one and one without consulting an accountant.
Marie was sick some days and on other days not quite so sick. In the meantime she did everything she could to keep me from falling apart and moving forward--pack boxes, prepare my Pastor Information Form, revise my resume, go to the store, yada, yada, yada.
Was I thankful for her. Yes I was. Every day. Did I show it? Certainly not well. I showed annoyance pretty well though. (Did I mention I was sick? Depression is insidious. I didn't know how big of a jerk being bipolar made me, only she does.)
If there's any good news; the self medication I gave up twenty-some years ago stayed in my bag of tricks not to come out.
My world crumbled around me and the only ideas I had were really, really bad ones. I was able by the grace of God to hold on until I got to my counselor's office. She got me into the hospital in Shreveport.
Now, if you have ever been in counseling for depression, you have probably heard this question: "Do you feel helpless and hopeless?" I've heard that question a million times, and I finally heard it properly and finally answered it aloud in the most accurate way for me.
I said, "I feel helpless. But I don't feel hopeless. In my faith I have hope. I have hope in the Lord my God."
How many times have I read David's Psalms of Lament? How many times have I read about the plight of Joseph? How many times have I read the Exodus story (and how many times has that story been adopted as a model for oppressed people all over the world)? How is there anything but hope in the cross and the resurrection?
Now, that my head is clear, I see that hope far more clearly too. I see now that hope is meant for me. I see that it is present in my life. I can even more clearly see those who are willing to help... those with whom God has blessed me in this life.
It's funny to say what I have now is a new life in Christ, but it truly is. Like everyone else I have had ups and downs, some of those downs pretty deep. Like anyone else who has depression my downs have real depth. In each of those times I have thanked God for saving me, for bringing me back. This time though it's different. I thought I had been broken before but I have never known brokenness like this. Oh, I thought I had, but it wasn't even even close.
Now, about two months later, the healing has begun. To date I feel great, literally never better. I have never been more clear. For that I thank God. In my fresh clarity I thank God for Marie, I thank God for all of the clinical help I have received. I truly thank God for all of our friends. We have gotten help, in financial, housing, other tangible, and especially prayer support from our friends from coast to coast. It's not that there are too many to list, but many have given anonymously and I honor that. Just know I will not forget.
Yes, some days will be better than others. Yes, I will have to be aware about how my meds are working because they may not always. I don't want to be unrealistic. At the same time I don't want to look under every rock for a rattlesnake just because I saw it happen once. I just have to pay attention to the sound of the rattle as I walk the path of life.
That is why I have hope in the Lord our God. Saved by the life and work, death and resurrection of our Lord Jesus Christ, indwelled by the Holy Spirit. By the grace of God I say Amen
Here's the single most important thing I went into the hospital knowing. I have hope in the Lord our God. Eight words, that's what I got. Let me elaborate.
I had been unemployed for over ten months, and stretched five months of severance over six and a half months. I didn't know how we were going to pay for our insurance, and money literally arrived on the porch. We got kicked out of where we were living, and another place opened up.
Was I thankful for God? Yes I was. Every day. At the same time I was so miserable I couldn't add one and one without consulting an accountant.
Marie was sick some days and on other days not quite so sick. In the meantime she did everything she could to keep me from falling apart and moving forward--pack boxes, prepare my Pastor Information Form, revise my resume, go to the store, yada, yada, yada.
Was I thankful for her. Yes I was. Every day. Did I show it? Certainly not well. I showed annoyance pretty well though. (Did I mention I was sick? Depression is insidious. I didn't know how big of a jerk being bipolar made me, only she does.)
If there's any good news; the self medication I gave up twenty-some years ago stayed in my bag of tricks not to come out.
My world crumbled around me and the only ideas I had were really, really bad ones. I was able by the grace of God to hold on until I got to my counselor's office. She got me into the hospital in Shreveport.
Now, if you have ever been in counseling for depression, you have probably heard this question: "Do you feel helpless and hopeless?" I've heard that question a million times, and I finally heard it properly and finally answered it aloud in the most accurate way for me.
I said, "I feel helpless. But I don't feel hopeless. In my faith I have hope. I have hope in the Lord my God."
How many times have I read David's Psalms of Lament? How many times have I read about the plight of Joseph? How many times have I read the Exodus story (and how many times has that story been adopted as a model for oppressed people all over the world)? How is there anything but hope in the cross and the resurrection?
Now, that my head is clear, I see that hope far more clearly too. I see now that hope is meant for me. I see that it is present in my life. I can even more clearly see those who are willing to help... those with whom God has blessed me in this life.
It's funny to say what I have now is a new life in Christ, but it truly is. Like everyone else I have had ups and downs, some of those downs pretty deep. Like anyone else who has depression my downs have real depth. In each of those times I have thanked God for saving me, for bringing me back. This time though it's different. I thought I had been broken before but I have never known brokenness like this. Oh, I thought I had, but it wasn't even even close.
Now, about two months later, the healing has begun. To date I feel great, literally never better. I have never been more clear. For that I thank God. In my fresh clarity I thank God for Marie, I thank God for all of the clinical help I have received. I truly thank God for all of our friends. We have gotten help, in financial, housing, other tangible, and especially prayer support from our friends from coast to coast. It's not that there are too many to list, but many have given anonymously and I honor that. Just know I will not forget.
Yes, some days will be better than others. Yes, I will have to be aware about how my meds are working because they may not always. I don't want to be unrealistic. At the same time I don't want to look under every rock for a rattlesnake just because I saw it happen once. I just have to pay attention to the sound of the rattle as I walk the path of life.
That is why I have hope in the Lord our God. Saved by the life and work, death and resurrection of our Lord Jesus Christ, indwelled by the Holy Spirit. By the grace of God I say Amen
Tuesday, December 17, 2013
Mental Health
A funny thing happened last month. Actually, it wasn't so funny. It was pretty scary. Life caught up with me. Life caught up with me and I didn't know what to do next. Actually that wasn't quite true... I had a "good idea" of what to do next, but having taken a class in crisis counseling I knew what I was thinking wasn't a "good idea."
I guess there had been signs of depression going on for a long time. I had found several different ways to deal with it over the years. I could go on for several paragraphs and describe the dozens of ways I have practiced self-therapy and self-medicating over the years. I even met with reasonable success. Reasonable being the key word. But last month the whole thing came tumbling down.
In November I became totally and wholly nonfunctional. I told my counselor what was happening and she told me it was time for me to go to the hospital. I was in no position to disagree. I guessed the depression had finally gotten such a hold on me that I had to do something right before I did something wrong.
Saying yes to help wasn't easy, I probably should have said something months earlier but didn't. But when I finally did say yes, it was the best thing I ever did.
To make a long story short, my diagnosis changed. My diagnosis is no longer simple depression. I am now diagnosed as Bipolar II. In short, that means that I have depression, sometimes serious bouts of depression (this helps explain some of my blog posts, especially the "Lies My Father/Mother Told Me" series) with hypomania. Hypomania is a version of mania which is not euphoric mania but a version that shows up as strangely energetic, talkative, assertive, creative, and productive behavior. Sometimes hypomania can also lead to questionable behavior... like some of my more dubious jokes.
I share this for a several reasons. The first is this, I am healing. That's the most wonderful thing I can say. I am on the way to feeling the best I have felt in my life. Therapy and medication are doing wonders. The second is that this is a process. Like everyone else on earth I will have good days and bad days. And now I have better tools to deal with them than I had even three months ago. This will also make me a better Pastor one day too. I have seen what the bottom looks like.
I also want to say thanks to my family and friends who took care of Marie and me while I was in the hospital and while I have been unemployed. You have been a joy to us.
Finally, I want to share because I want you to be aware. You know someone who is Bipolar. Fear Not! Or at least don't fear me. I'm not going to snap and bite your head off. I'm not going to go postal. I may not be just like everybody else, but there is one thing I know, I'm still me. I'm Paul. I'm the fat man in the bathtub. And I'm glad you came to my blog.
Enjoy.
I guess there had been signs of depression going on for a long time. I had found several different ways to deal with it over the years. I could go on for several paragraphs and describe the dozens of ways I have practiced self-therapy and self-medicating over the years. I even met with reasonable success. Reasonable being the key word. But last month the whole thing came tumbling down.
In November I became totally and wholly nonfunctional. I told my counselor what was happening and she told me it was time for me to go to the hospital. I was in no position to disagree. I guessed the depression had finally gotten such a hold on me that I had to do something right before I did something wrong.
Saying yes to help wasn't easy, I probably should have said something months earlier but didn't. But when I finally did say yes, it was the best thing I ever did.
To make a long story short, my diagnosis changed. My diagnosis is no longer simple depression. I am now diagnosed as Bipolar II. In short, that means that I have depression, sometimes serious bouts of depression (this helps explain some of my blog posts, especially the "Lies My Father/Mother Told Me" series) with hypomania. Hypomania is a version of mania which is not euphoric mania but a version that shows up as strangely energetic, talkative, assertive, creative, and productive behavior. Sometimes hypomania can also lead to questionable behavior... like some of my more dubious jokes.
I share this for a several reasons. The first is this, I am healing. That's the most wonderful thing I can say. I am on the way to feeling the best I have felt in my life. Therapy and medication are doing wonders. The second is that this is a process. Like everyone else on earth I will have good days and bad days. And now I have better tools to deal with them than I had even three months ago. This will also make me a better Pastor one day too. I have seen what the bottom looks like.
I also want to say thanks to my family and friends who took care of Marie and me while I was in the hospital and while I have been unemployed. You have been a joy to us.
Finally, I want to share because I want you to be aware. You know someone who is Bipolar. Fear Not! Or at least don't fear me. I'm not going to snap and bite your head off. I'm not going to go postal. I may not be just like everybody else, but there is one thing I know, I'm still me. I'm Paul. I'm the fat man in the bathtub. And I'm glad you came to my blog.
Enjoy.
Tuesday, December 3, 2013
The Presbyterian Food Stamp Challenge
The Presbyterian Church (USA) recently did a food stamp challenge (view Outlook link here) to show how difficult it is to feed a family using the SNAP program's dietary guidelines. I commend everyone of the 300 Presbyterians who signed up to see how the other half lives. Unfortunately, they really didn't get a full view of how the other half lives, not from someone on this side of the poverty line.
You see, as you know, I am an ordained minister (Teaching Elder, whatever) in the Presbyterian Church (USA). The congregation I served chose to quit meeting together at the end of January this year. While I received a generous severance package, all things come to an end. To an end they came at the end of June. I was able to stretch the cash part of the severance out for a while longer, but the insurance ended promptly on June 30, 2013. That $711.25 has been coming out of my pocket ever since.
On a side note, the reason we kept this insurance is that we did not want to start our deductibles and copays over again. That would not have been cost effective.
As I was unable to secure any employment in my small East Texas town so I relied on God's generous blessings. Through friends, churches, and the SNAP program my wife and I were able to keep our heads above water. We are housed. Our car was paid off one month after I lost my job and some rather pricey repairs were covered--as was car insurance. Monthly expenses like gas and phone, because you gotta have a phone if you're looking for work, were covered for a while by several churches where I preached as pulpit supply, a real blessing.
Then it happened, our SNAP benefits were around $340 per month for two adults, one with special dietary needs. When it came time to reapply our benefits were cut, they were cut to $15 per month. Not by $15 per month but to $15 per month. This wasn't because of any political posturing as both my Republican and Democratic friends were so quick to point out.
The reason our benefits were cut were because I reported we got help and I reported I spent it on health insurance. You see, the State of Texas, the state of my residence, believes I should be spending my money on food and not on health.
So I have looked for jobs in the church, sending Pastor Information Forms to over 160 congregations where God has not called me. I have sent applications to banks, colleges, restaurants, tutoring services, pawn shops, and more places than I can remember. I finally have an interview and God willing will have incoming income soon.
You have been patient with me but now I imagine you would like me to come to the point. Years ago I worked in a Student Support Services TRIO program serving low income students. I thought this gave me a better idea of what it was like to be poor in America and I wasn't really wrong. Then I became a seminary student and a pastor in two different very small rural churches. While the blessings are wonderful they aren't monetary, I got a better idea of what living in poverty looked like. My wife's health began to deteriorate and she has been unable to work for five years--between loss of income and increase of medical expenses we are getting a real first hand view of poverty.
The point of my story is that nobody who took The Presbyterian Food Stamp Challenge unknowingly choose between health insurance and food stamps. Who would ever make that choice knowingly. Who would have ever thought that would be a forced choice.
In the end we're not that far from sleeping in the car. Only the Grace of God and the help of good friends has kept us out of it so far. So thanks to anyone who has spared us a room. Thanks to everyone who has sent us a check--and some of you have been quite generous. Blessings to all who have prayed for us because we have had some very rough patches too. And thanks to the 300 of you who tried to see how the other half lived. God bless us all.
You see, as you know, I am an ordained minister (Teaching Elder, whatever) in the Presbyterian Church (USA). The congregation I served chose to quit meeting together at the end of January this year. While I received a generous severance package, all things come to an end. To an end they came at the end of June. I was able to stretch the cash part of the severance out for a while longer, but the insurance ended promptly on June 30, 2013. That $711.25 has been coming out of my pocket ever since.
On a side note, the reason we kept this insurance is that we did not want to start our deductibles and copays over again. That would not have been cost effective.
As I was unable to secure any employment in my small East Texas town so I relied on God's generous blessings. Through friends, churches, and the SNAP program my wife and I were able to keep our heads above water. We are housed. Our car was paid off one month after I lost my job and some rather pricey repairs were covered--as was car insurance. Monthly expenses like gas and phone, because you gotta have a phone if you're looking for work, were covered for a while by several churches where I preached as pulpit supply, a real blessing.
Then it happened, our SNAP benefits were around $340 per month for two adults, one with special dietary needs. When it came time to reapply our benefits were cut, they were cut to $15 per month. Not by $15 per month but to $15 per month. This wasn't because of any political posturing as both my Republican and Democratic friends were so quick to point out.
The reason our benefits were cut were because I reported we got help and I reported I spent it on health insurance. You see, the State of Texas, the state of my residence, believes I should be spending my money on food and not on health.
So I have looked for jobs in the church, sending Pastor Information Forms to over 160 congregations where God has not called me. I have sent applications to banks, colleges, restaurants, tutoring services, pawn shops, and more places than I can remember. I finally have an interview and God willing will have incoming income soon.
You have been patient with me but now I imagine you would like me to come to the point. Years ago I worked in a Student Support Services TRIO program serving low income students. I thought this gave me a better idea of what it was like to be poor in America and I wasn't really wrong. Then I became a seminary student and a pastor in two different very small rural churches. While the blessings are wonderful they aren't monetary, I got a better idea of what living in poverty looked like. My wife's health began to deteriorate and she has been unable to work for five years--between loss of income and increase of medical expenses we are getting a real first hand view of poverty.
The point of my story is that nobody who took The Presbyterian Food Stamp Challenge unknowingly choose between health insurance and food stamps. Who would ever make that choice knowingly. Who would have ever thought that would be a forced choice.
In the end we're not that far from sleeping in the car. Only the Grace of God and the help of good friends has kept us out of it so far. So thanks to anyone who has spared us a room. Thanks to everyone who has sent us a check--and some of you have been quite generous. Blessings to all who have prayed for us because we have had some very rough patches too. And thanks to the 300 of you who tried to see how the other half lived. God bless us all.
Friday, October 11, 2013
Heroes of the Faith
People often wonder which person in the bible they most resemble. The most assertive of us pick Paul or Deborah. Some of us who are good disciples who are also known to say the wrong thing from time to time pick Peter.
As for me, I'm a lot like this guy from Mark's gospel...
What I love about this man is his honesty, "I believe; help my unbelief!" He knows who Jesus is and he knows what can happen when Emmanuel, God with us, is with us. Still, the things he has seen in his life cause him not to believe.
I know how he feels.
In seminary, they teach us something important about the kingdom of God, it is happening now, and it's not happening yet. We do live in a world where Christ is King of kings. He is Lord of lords. There is nothing that he cannot do. There is no foe he cannot face. Jesus of Nazareth who died conquered death. He conquered death. Yet, we live in a world where politicians fight for what we laughingly call power. Despots behave like "little tin gods." Horror and shame thrive where there should be peace and grace. We live in a world where it looks like God can be ignored, like Jesus' redeeming work has no effects at all. We live in a world that is redeemed, yet we can't turn on the news without knowing that the world doesn't look like it has been.
The redeeming work of Christ is done; now, but not yet.
This is how I live into this Father's words, "I believe; help my unbelief!" I believe, I know. Yet I also know the pain and despair and shame this world heaps on its inhabitants.
To me, this man's heroism is his honesty, before the Lord his God he knows and he tells the whole truth. He knows and he fears and he shares both with Jesus and with the world. He may not have made his way into Hebrews 11 nor will he ever be listed among the great heroes of scripture. Despite his place in history I say this, he's a hero.
He's one of my heroes. The greater hero of course is Jesus. He did what he said he would do. He did everything he said he would do. That is heroic.
As for me, I'm a lot like this guy from Mark's gospel...
When the whole crowd saw him, they were immediately overcome with awe, and they ran forward to greet him. He asked them, “What are you arguing about with them?” Someone from the crowd answered him, “Teacher, I brought you my son; he has a spirit that makes him unable to speak; and whenever it seizes him, it dashes him down; and he foams and grinds his teeth and becomes rigid; and I asked your disciples to cast it out, but they could not do so.” He answered them, “You faithless generation, how much longer must I be among you? How much longer must I put up with you? Bring him to me.” And they brought the boy to him. When the spirit saw him, immediately it convulsed the boy, and he fell on the ground and rolled about, foaming at the mouth. Jesus asked the father, “How long has this been happening to him?” And he said, “From childhood. It has often cast him into the fire and into the water, to destroy him; but if you are able to do anything, have pity on us and help us.” Jesus said to him, “If you are able!—All things can be done for the one who believes.” Immediately the father of the child cried out, “I believe; help my unbelief!” (Mark 9:15-24, NRSV)Those of you who know scripture know Jesus healed the boy, telling his disciples that to banish this spirit requires prayer. Those of you who didn't, well, spoiler alert.
What I love about this man is his honesty, "I believe; help my unbelief!" He knows who Jesus is and he knows what can happen when Emmanuel, God with us, is with us. Still, the things he has seen in his life cause him not to believe.
I know how he feels.
In seminary, they teach us something important about the kingdom of God, it is happening now, and it's not happening yet. We do live in a world where Christ is King of kings. He is Lord of lords. There is nothing that he cannot do. There is no foe he cannot face. Jesus of Nazareth who died conquered death. He conquered death. Yet, we live in a world where politicians fight for what we laughingly call power. Despots behave like "little tin gods." Horror and shame thrive where there should be peace and grace. We live in a world where it looks like God can be ignored, like Jesus' redeeming work has no effects at all. We live in a world that is redeemed, yet we can't turn on the news without knowing that the world doesn't look like it has been.
The redeeming work of Christ is done; now, but not yet.
This is how I live into this Father's words, "I believe; help my unbelief!" I believe, I know. Yet I also know the pain and despair and shame this world heaps on its inhabitants.
To me, this man's heroism is his honesty, before the Lord his God he knows and he tells the whole truth. He knows and he fears and he shares both with Jesus and with the world. He may not have made his way into Hebrews 11 nor will he ever be listed among the great heroes of scripture. Despite his place in history I say this, he's a hero.
He's one of my heroes. The greater hero of course is Jesus. He did what he said he would do. He did everything he said he would do. That is heroic.
Wednesday, October 2, 2013
Snark, my Sense of Humor, and American Politics
Dear Friends,
Those of you who know me at all know I have a tremendous and vast sense of humor. I find all sorts of things funny and look to find humor in every situation, usually successfully. Those of you who know me well know that from time to time my sense of humor can be snarky. Or sarcastic. Or downright dark. I try to keep those down to a minimum. I tend to keep that part of my sense of humor out of my professional life.
Side note: Those who know me socially are asking "That's a minimum?" My best answer is "Yes, now imagine what I self edit... Now imagine what I only share with my wife... " This is when we all nominate the wonderful Marie for sainthood.
The reason I haven't updated this blog recently is because I haven't had much to say, and the things that I thought I might share were best self edited. Readers who have experienced recent postings, especially the "Lies my father/mother told me" series, are wiping their brows in gladness. This is one of the few times the phrase "thank you for not sharing" is appropriate. It's not a proud moment, but still.
I will never lose my sense of humor. Nor will I lose every element of my sense of humor, but here's something very important-- I am sick of the level of snark I have seen in the past ten years. Let me make this very clear, if I've had it up to here with snark it's probably drowning mortals. What pushed me over the edge? The current debate on the Affordable Healthcare Act.
I find much of it disingenuous. Before President Obama was inaugurated Congressional Republicans publicly declared their goal over "the next four years is to make President Obama a one-term president." While the strategy didn't work that doesn't prevent its continuation.
But don't let Congressional Democrats off the hook. They're just as bad, nobody has cornered the market on "disingenuous." The party of my inclination is just as able to brew a tempest in a teapot. The reason I don't list any is that I have read so many Facebook posts and memes about how Democrats impede government sending America into poverty that I don't need to. If you disagree with my politics you have your own laundry list.
Important point! I don't hate the people who disagree with me! I need the people who disagree with me! People who challenge me and what I believe give me perspectives that challenge what I believe and make my beliefs stronger. You may make me either affirm or change what I believe, and either way it still makes me stronger, not weaker!
But the level of snark from both sides of the Congressional aisle don't challenge me. They now disgust me. As for me, on this day, I believe there's enough blame to go around. Again, enough blame to go around. As Shakespeare said, "a pox on both of your houses. Both of your houses!"
About fifteen years ago my father had an epiphany in Missouri state races. All of the men running for office, Democrats and Republicans both, were acting like idiot blowhards. The women on the other hand were measured and constructive. Today I look at Michelle Bachman and Hillary Clinton and wonder what happens once you reach a certain point. It's the Peter Principle of American Politics. I despair this once workable solution is now improbable.
If you want to accuse me of being snarky right now I want to plead "not guilty" but will probably settle for "no contest." I'm trying to express myself without going over the edge right now (and on a second reading too out things that were too close to the edge of snark for my comfort), but that is the tight rope I now choose to walk. That's the abyss I'm not going to throw myself into anymore, God help me.
So friends, please know that my sense of humor will remain sharp. My stories will still be funny. My puns will still be flowing like a river. And I seek to quit wasting my time and yours on snark, especially political snark. Now that's a load off my chest.
Love you all,
Paul
Those of you who know me at all know I have a tremendous and vast sense of humor. I find all sorts of things funny and look to find humor in every situation, usually successfully. Those of you who know me well know that from time to time my sense of humor can be snarky. Or sarcastic. Or downright dark. I try to keep those down to a minimum. I tend to keep that part of my sense of humor out of my professional life.
Side note: Those who know me socially are asking "That's a minimum?" My best answer is "Yes, now imagine what I self edit... Now imagine what I only share with my wife... " This is when we all nominate the wonderful Marie for sainthood.
The reason I haven't updated this blog recently is because I haven't had much to say, and the things that I thought I might share were best self edited. Readers who have experienced recent postings, especially the "Lies my father/mother told me" series, are wiping their brows in gladness. This is one of the few times the phrase "thank you for not sharing" is appropriate. It's not a proud moment, but still.
I will never lose my sense of humor. Nor will I lose every element of my sense of humor, but here's something very important-- I am sick of the level of snark I have seen in the past ten years. Let me make this very clear, if I've had it up to here with snark it's probably drowning mortals. What pushed me over the edge? The current debate on the Affordable Healthcare Act.
I find much of it disingenuous. Before President Obama was inaugurated Congressional Republicans publicly declared their goal over "the next four years is to make President Obama a one-term president." While the strategy didn't work that doesn't prevent its continuation.
But don't let Congressional Democrats off the hook. They're just as bad, nobody has cornered the market on "disingenuous." The party of my inclination is just as able to brew a tempest in a teapot. The reason I don't list any is that I have read so many Facebook posts and memes about how Democrats impede government sending America into poverty that I don't need to. If you disagree with my politics you have your own laundry list.
Important point! I don't hate the people who disagree with me! I need the people who disagree with me! People who challenge me and what I believe give me perspectives that challenge what I believe and make my beliefs stronger. You may make me either affirm or change what I believe, and either way it still makes me stronger, not weaker!
But the level of snark from both sides of the Congressional aisle don't challenge me. They now disgust me. As for me, on this day, I believe there's enough blame to go around. Again, enough blame to go around. As Shakespeare said, "a pox on both of your houses. Both of your houses!"
About fifteen years ago my father had an epiphany in Missouri state races. All of the men running for office, Democrats and Republicans both, were acting like idiot blowhards. The women on the other hand were measured and constructive. Today I look at Michelle Bachman and Hillary Clinton and wonder what happens once you reach a certain point. It's the Peter Principle of American Politics. I despair this once workable solution is now improbable.
If you want to accuse me of being snarky right now I want to plead "not guilty" but will probably settle for "no contest." I'm trying to express myself without going over the edge right now (and on a second reading too out things that were too close to the edge of snark for my comfort), but that is the tight rope I now choose to walk. That's the abyss I'm not going to throw myself into anymore, God help me.
So friends, please know that my sense of humor will remain sharp. My stories will still be funny. My puns will still be flowing like a river. And I seek to quit wasting my time and yours on snark, especially political snark. Now that's a load off my chest.
Love you all,
Paul
Wednesday, September 18, 2013
A Retirement Party
I even wore them while walking in Mexico. Mexico, Missouri that is--65265. It's the home of the Mexico Military Academy and the Miss Missouri Pageant. It's also where I was born and where my parents died.
So to say the least, these shoes have been around the block. They've gone through several insole replacements. They have carried me far and well. But today is their day.
The soles, while still having some tread, have failed internally. The roll bars now roll in ways they should not. They have been replaced by a new Nike. It's a good shoe, but I just don't see them lasting eleven years like these NB's.
Thanks for the support.
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