Flatulence can be bottled...

                                                                   It's true.

             This is something we discovered as teenagers. I will not go into details.

                  They can then be stored, capped of course, in the freezer.

                    Snuck into school and gently uncapped then placed upon a radiator.

                               In the winter. In an enclosed classroom.

                        The previously condensed gas begins to warm and waft upwards. The radiator is at a nearly perfect horizontal height to disperse the invisible cloud evenly thru out the enclosed area.

      None of the School staff sees this as an inquisitive and engaging experiment.

                                             I will not go into the details...

                       No matter the size of the tarp you choose, you cannot achieve flight simulating the actions of a flying squirrel.

                       I will not go into details...

                   Let it suffice us to say that climbing forty feet onto a large limb in a tree and tying each tarp corner to corresponding wrists and ankles does not come close to the precise and intricate design of that majestic flying rodent...

                It should be stated that the only real function said tarp does is pull all four limbs out ferociously and equally, in a completely unwilling spread eagle...

             There have been single moments of common sense in my life.  One of them was to do this above water. What I had thoroughly failed to consider was the force of impact.

    Fact: You actually do bounce on water. Twice.

               I will skip the details..

      Just remember, trying to swim back towards shore breathless and tied to a tarp turns into a complicated set of actions. Arm stroke, complete involuntary twirl. Another arm stroke . Repeat as necessary....

                Shopping carts are indeed capable of going 40 M.P.H. with someone inside..

                     Once again, I will skip the details.

                 What should be remembered is that a motor vehicle must be involved and  it has to have both a front and rear window and a front and rear passenger to hold the carts front and back.

     As you sit inside the cart, remember to put your fingers thru the cart bottom and clench with all your strength. The framing protects your fingers as you crouch as low as possible, and the sides will bend inward on impact to protect you.

           It is better to have friends that will pry you out before the mall security personnel arrive than those who won't...

        I think that is more than enough detail, don't you? 

             You can completely freak out people swimming in the river at night with semi inflated garbage bag corners situated to resemble shark fins, if they had recently watched the movie " Jaws".

                                 Marshmallows left for 12 years become rock hard and explode on impact when fired from a wrist rocket sling shot when they hit ANY body part, even extremely delicate ones...

     I definitely will not go into details on that one...

         Parents do not appreciate coming home to sections of different colored siding than was originally installed two years before. A brand new chemistry set that was smuggled into the house and scientific curiosity are not accepted excuses. Not by a long shot....

                I figured I would write about generalities, for once...

Ties and my three sons...

         My Wonderful Wife went shopping with our three boys for Easter clothes a few days ago. 

                              They all came back with ties... Excited, even... Ties...

                   In this world, there are two types of people, those who like ties and those like me.

                      Hate is a very strong word, so I will not use it to describe my intense dislike for ties.

                      But in seeing my children's excitement for wearing this apparatus, I quietly started searching thru the few I own for something appropriate. Upon hearing from my son Jacob that I was going to wear the abyssmal device, my Wonderful Wife gently said " You don't have to wear one, you know. A button down shirt will do". 

                                                   How I love this woman.

           But this morning, I did put on a smile along with a nice blue and black striped contrivance, without complaint or prodding. I joined my three handsome young men and stood with them outside and then inside, thru the second Church service. 

                 You see, although I personally feel we should learn a lesson from Judas about a man wrapping a noose around his own neck, I understand that our society is divided, or more appropriately, segregated , and there are many places that cannot be accessed unless you join this league of ties.

             My two older brothers both belong to this group. They wear them with grace and grandeur, almost as an extension of themselves.

                Sports is its official language and the ties, an irreplaceable part of the uniform.

                   So my children start this initiation with happiness. What kind of dad would stand in their way? 

                                            Neckties aside, I love Easter. 

                It is my favorite of all holidays. It is the truest, most beautiful story that has ever been told. This day is the great equalizer among all of us humans. All sinners, all broken and all needing what we could not create on our own or earn by ourselves. 

             Also, it gives me a chance to hear about my two favorite characters in the Bible, excluding Jesus, of course...

                                     Mary Magdelene and the thief on the cross.

               Neither of these get much attention in most Churches. Generally they are an add in or an aside. I myself have sat thru quite a few Easter services where neither were mentioned. 

           The thief defends Jesus as being innocent while confessing his own guilt. The thief declares that he deserves the punishment he received but Jesus is blameless. In faith, he asks Jesus to remember him when He enters His Kingdom.

                  Jesus guarantees him that that day he will join Him in Paradise.

                                 He does not begrudge his rightful punishment. He stands guilty and defends Jesus as innocence. He believes. He sees...

                              Mary Magdelene, on the other hand, is to me, the most complete human example of accepting Gods Amazing Grace.

                                She accepted her healing and simply followed Jesus and served. She, like the thief, had no stature and never had any among men. When I think of obedience, I think of her.

      She stayed with Jesus thru the crucifixion. She found the tomb empty and brought the disciples.

         He appeared to her first, in her grief. He revealed Himself to her first, a woman.

             What I love about her is her Faith.

                She never doubted or denied him. She never asked to sit at either his left or right hand.

    She stayed with him when others ran.

                 Mary Magdelene believed. No questions. Full stop...

                     Now Paul ( or Saul first ) was powerful among men both before and after his conversion.

             He never knew or felt or lived the existence of being invisible and utterly worthless and disposable to the world of man. He was always a " somebody".

                          He was a tie kind of guy....

                Not the thief and certainly not Mary Magdelene.

                    I guess that's why I like them so much...

                            

Brotherhood.

  I went to an " Iron sharpens iron" men's conference last weekend. Not a comfortable thing for someone like me. You see, I'm still trying to put all the intricate pieces together regarding service, Bible study and fellowship. Loving my brothers is not a strong point. Most of my life has been spent building/ breaking/ rebuilding walls between those who would love me and those I would love.

     Still a lot of fears in those areas. 

         A great course was offered entitled " Discipleship and Brotherhood."

           I had a decent grasp on discipleship from a course thru our Church I had been attending. I fought it, but understood the theoretics. I'm usually good deciphering concepts...

   Brotherhood was another thing. 

   It intimidated me. I could not recall a male relationship with the kind of intimacy they spoke, that kind of commitment and loyalty...my memory had grown short.

   Fast forward one day...

     My Wonderful Wife came down the stairs after we returned home from a Sunday at a friends home.

   MaryAnne sounded scared and concerned. " Heather called and left a message to call her back. She didn't sound right.."

      I called and Heather answered on the third ring. Within moments she told me her husband of 21 years and my best friend ( My Wonderful Wife is my best friend, but she never saw me like Jim did. She has heard the stories but never saw the true insanity of will power that I fought God with.)

       My stomach dropped a few feet and emotions began to swell inside... How I hate it when emotions own and overpower my brain...

    I comforted Heather as well as I could and told her I would pray for her. I told her that I loved her. She fell apart and said she would see me tomorrow,  1:00 p.m., at the graveside service.

    I walked upstairs, held my Wonderful Wife and fell apart. Realizing her touch brought out these overwhelming emotions, I went in our room alone to get my composure. I lost it. I sobbed like a child but eventually my will power won out. I figured I had it down now and just needed to practice emotional vigilance to insure no more goopy outburst. I had it all figured out, all right...

                                        Jim Harris was a down home, straight talking Vermont man who had lain too waste the first forty years of his life. He crawled into the rooms of A.A. with no family left and little hope.

   He sat back listening, watching and studying everyone in those rooms. From the first days he questioned how we were bringing this message to the hopeless drunks who desperately needed it and questioned our dedication and half assed action. He knew almost nothing of the program he'd stepped into, but inherently saw the flaws the " old timers", those with multiple years of experience had, in passing on the gifts we were given.

      I doubted he would last a month....

          As days turned to weeks, I found him wherever I went for coffee after the meetings, no small talks, just deep philisophicle questions of how we connected those ideas to the practical mechanics of helping other drunks. I tried to get him to lighten up and you think I quoted blasphemy. In his eyes, I did.

      Weeks became months. I would try to meet some lady friend for an intimate coffee at Freindlies and Jim would walk in, climb into our booth and hammers us both with his incessant questions...

   I began to realize that this was not going to stop. He had dug his heels into this program and nothing short of a nuclear detonation would dislodge him. That was a great thing. He then informed me I would be his sponsor and that we would be spending a lot more time together....

      There would not be time for coffees with eligible ladies for me anytime in the near future.

           My only choice was to dive as deeply as he and hope that the experience I had acquired along the way would enable me to find the answers he needed a little before he asked.

    We became inseparable. All pretense dropped and we both knew the deepest, darkest and dirtiest secrets of both our lives. He grew by leaps and bounds as did I. 

      He never knew he was the catalyst in that.

         Years later I stepped into a battle of wills with God. He removed one too many things, once too often. Philosophical went out the window and I drew a line in the sand.....

        Jim watched with a mixture of horror and disbelief. He told me countless times " what doesn't kill you makes you stronger is based on the idea that some things WILL kill you"

             He watched me dig my heels into complete defiance. Slowly, God removed every single thing I deemed necessary. He was waiting for an apology and repentance, but willing to hold His line, If needed.

                                I would self destruct or be broken...

           Jim watched this all, up close and personal. He was far out of his depths but refused to retreat.

 He set people up around me, almost around the clock and when all they could do was ineffective, he set up professional help.

          A month later, when I returned he looked into my eyes and knew that although the battle no longer raged there was nothing left inside. Whoever had been fighting was gone and all that was left was an empty shell. My soul had been labotomized.

       Not by the Doctors or counselors or medications. The battle had broken all that I was. 

             I moved shortly after. I had no hope left, but somehow Jim did.

              Some smoldering piece of ash gently and delicately began burning again inside of me . Peices of who I was formed again slowly, differently. A small glint came back in my eyes..

              Jim remained a fixture for years. He met and approved my Wonderful Wife ( how could he not?) and met my children. He and Heather were in our wedding  and visited our house. He was not able to travel and downsized to a one bedroom apartment with his wife.

        I called him on my A.A. anniversary to thank him. I would have died sober twenty years ago, a bullet in my brain, if not for him....

            Ten people, excluding the funeral home employees attended the graveside service. Per his wishes, no obituary or notice was given. Not even to his siblings. One daughter was there out of three.

  He did not want a big service. His Love and his friends. I was blessed to be one of them.

      He would hold up one hand and say if in the end, you have this many real friends, you are blessed more than most. I was sad that this man who touched thousands had such a quaint and quiet burial.

                               But that was my friend Jim....those were his wishes.

                      I tried to say something meaningful at the grave ,  but i just fell apart.

  My wife was sitting next to Heather so I can't blame that one on her....

              Heather invited us to their apartment after the burial. It was a long drive and we all decompressed a bit. Befor we left, I took three pictures out of my wallet, my children's school photos.

      " These are Jim's legacy. These amazing children would never have been born, if not for him."

                                            That was all I could get to come out.

                                                                  Brotherhood?

                                                                I think I get it.

 The funny thing is, during our last conversation Jim jumped on the A.A. Bandwagon again. " How are these new guys going to get better and learn how to work this program, learn how to teach these steps to the next generation,  if all these people with twenty some years just get well and leave?!? It doesn't say that in the book! You've got to give it away to keep it. We had people there to guide us.

What about these guys? Somebody has to do something, somebody has to show up!"

            These were the kinds of questions he had always asked. He knew his time was short and that with his health, it couldn't be him.

                        I'm still working on my answer...

Church prep...

   As a kid, getting ready for Church was not a favored activity amongst my brothers and I.

                               Understatement, extreme.

           In those days we mini automatons were dressed in polyester suits, clip on ties and the Brill cream was thicker in our hair than our actual hair was. We lined up for inspection, proper countenance and approved posture. Sometimes make up was applied to cover the bruises people might see. We didn't worry about the covered ones...

                       Of course breakfast was verboten until we returned.

                 It felt more like preparing for a military inspection than readying our hearts to Worship God.

                       I give my father a lot of credit. He would bring us himself, long after my mother refused to attend. Church has always been important to him and he insured we attended until our Confirmation, when we became responsible, as recognized by the Church, for our own attendance.

                                           His responsibility was done.

                        Fast forward about a thousand years...

                               There is no Brill cream, polyester suits, bruises, shined shoes or ties for our children.

                                             Breakfast is made for them.

                             Good sneakers, a T shirt without writing and clean, unripped pants is their uniform of the day. No crazy inspections....

                                           ... And still it is a huge battle.

                      Questions are fired like Nerf bullets. " Why can't we play our video games on Sunday? Why can't we play outside before we go? Why do you and mom have to be so mean?!?"

                                     Every Sunday. No exceptions. No reprieve.

                     We have answered these questions nearly as often as we have breathed...

                           At Church, they are fine. They play downstairs until it is time for the service and the two youngest leave at the beginning of it to go to Church school.

                 They see friends and have fun while learning.

                    In the middle of these morning battles I am utterly convinced that we are the only family that experiences this. I listen to myself and my Wonderful Wife having battle of wills with these little badgers and I ask myself, exactly what do you think your doing? What are you actually accomplishing?!? Is this what God wants, dragging children to His house?

                                I contemplate just staying home...

                                 Then I realize who would win if we did...

                        Not the kids. They may not accept it today ( or more than likely they do, but just want to play their video games) but they DO need to be involved in a home Church. They enjoy the friends and Pastors and people who teach them. When we ask what they learned, sometimes they even argue with each other to be the first to tell us, on the way home.

                            Not my Wonderful Wife. She loves going. She has an incredible support system of equally amazing moms and is a solid part of many of Temples ministries...

                       Not me. I look forward to Sermons. The great thing about Temple is that it doesn't matter who the Pastor giving the Sermon is. The Message is always straight from The Bible and spot-on.

     I get to connect with Church friends. I get to Worship the God I Love in my own quirky and uncoordinated way...

                                The only winner from us staying home would be Satan.

                         

                Every family he manages to keep away from the House of God gives him delight. I know today that he is real and this fight is incredibly important.

          So I bring my family to Church sometimes when some would rather not go.

              If we are there,  it gives God an opening to offer his protection, to work inside our hearts and win a battle that we ourselves could only lose, against an enemy unbeatable by any other than Him.

             Jesus gets us thru the morning conflicts and out that door, on the road to His House.

                     He will always bring us Home... He always has...