WORKING FOR SATAN

I've worked for the largest out of home media company on earth since 1985. Of course back then it wasn't the largest anything. It wasn't until recent years, more specifically since the last presidential election that the company began being called "The Great Satan". I'm not sure who had that title before then but evidently it's sort of like the Miss America crown, it rotates.

I know the company I work for, I know the people who make up the company and I know that most of the company's critics have their own agendas. Suffice it to say I wouldn't work for Satan, even if he paid me well. Now, if you want to argue that Clear Channel should pay its grunts more, then I might jump on your bandwagon.

However, I don't really use this space to talk about work. This is my place to talk about important things like memories, and love, and green beans. Topics like the Spurs, dogs and God. You know, stuff that matters.

I will say there is a good article in the Washington Times today which debunks much of the blabbering about Clear Channel. If you have an interest in that topic I would direct you there as well as the April 2004 edition of Texas Monthly magazine which had a very balanced article called "The Voice of America." I'd link to the article on line but Texas Monthly requires a subscription...dang capitalists.

IN ALONE, THERE IS ONE



I have been a shark.

Not bloodthirsty and ravenous, but thick skinned and isolated.

I have driven myself into deeper waters seeking peace.

I have felt the need to keep moving to survive.

Those times have been rare but not necessarily unhealthy.

I have found solace in solitude. Peace in the deep and the darkness.

There is comfort in those places only because I know I must come up for air.

I recognize the breath of God will restore me.

I can't be a shark without also being a sheep.



"It is easy in the world to live after the world's opinion; it is easy in solitude to live after our own; but the great person is one who in the midst of the crowd keeps with perfect sweetness the independence of solitude." - Ralph Waldo Emerson

TESTING THE WATERS

This is a fascinating story. I wonder how much more many of us would be capable of if we didn't hold ourselves back.

A FIG LEAF HAS ITS PLACE


"Blessed is he who stays awake and keeps his clothes with him, so that he may not go naked and be shamefully exposed"

I remembered a story today that I had long ago forgotten, or perhaps suppressed.

During the summer between high school and college, some buddies and I went to Austin. At that time, the mid 70's, Austin had a reputation as the coolest city in Texas. Some folks still consider that to be the case. Having lived there some years later, I am not one who shares that viewpoint, although it's certainly a lovely town and the scenery is splendid. You do have to be able to overlook the Sunday afternoon traffic jams, as well as a disproportionate number of vehement liberals, hookers and politicians. I realize that last sentence may contain some redundancies.

Anyway, the primary place my friends and I went during our road trip to Austin was the infamous Hippie Hollow which was at the time a pseudo-sanctioned nude beach on Lake Travis. Even back then in notoriously liberal Austin, getting naked in public was illegal; however when it came to Hippie Hollow local authorities looked the other way...at least until election season. When the political campaigns cranked up, the Travis County sheriff would invariably launch well publicized crackdowns on the "nekkid heathens" for the betterment of mankind and to get his face on TV for free.

Some years later, the folks in Austin got tired of the silliness and simply made it legal to take off your clothes at Hippie Hollow. It's still the only nude beach in Texas. The word beach is somewhat of a misnomer. Hippie Hollow is essentially an area of rocky cliffs on the water. I personally think in order to qualify as a beach there should be some sand, but then again when your naked sand is not necessarily your friend.

I digress...

Being young men in our late teens with far more hormones than common sense, we had one goal for this great Austin adventure...we wanted to see naked women. We didn't admit that, but that was the unspoken mutual intent.

That was my first and last trip to Hippie Hollow so I'm sure things have changed a great deal in the decades since, but as I recall when we drove up you had to park a good distance away from the rocks or as they call rocks in Austin, the beach. We then had to wander through a thick morass of bushes and underbrush. It was amid this unfriendly foliage that I took note of the first aspect of Hippie Hollow which I hadn't considered: weirdoes. There seemed to be a lot of men standing behind bushes, with no apparent desire to go any further. In my naiveté, this struck me as odd, "Why would folks go to a lake and not go near the water?" Later I noticed some of the men had binoculars...I think a few even had cameras.

Undeterred, our little band of innocents marched merrily toward the lake and soon staked out a spot on the rocks. Then we saw them. Real live naked people.



In an instant, the scales fell from my eyes...and no matter how hard I tried I couldn't put them back.

My first realization was although there was an abundance of naked people at Hippie Hollow the vast majority of them were men...many of them rather old, weathered, tired and tattooed men. Men I certainly suspected were not getting offers to get naked anywhere else and if they were getting such offers I didn't want to think about it. Second, the few women who were naked made some of the bare butted men look attractive.

The most startling and fearsome revelation however was that my friends and I were in the minority of people at the water's edge who still had clothes on. Apparently there was something of an unwritten rule: you either got naked, or you drifted back amid the leaves and the lechers.

This is when I knew our road trip plan had a serious flaw. I will readily admit to a certain curiosity about seeing naked people in public, but I will also attest to the fact that I didn't then, nor do I now, have any desire to be one of them. Additionally even if I were to get naked in public, I didn't want to do it with three of my friends. We were close....but we weren't that close.

I was ready to leave almost instantly, but I wasn't ready to be the first to admit that. One of the guys I was with quickly became "one with nature" and looked at the rest of us as if he expected we would do the same. As I recall, one other friend may have eventually felt comfortable or pressured enough to join him.

My closest friend and I however opted for another approach. We dove into the water and swam away. We kept our shorts on and in the process kept what small amount of dignity we had left somewhat in tact, and various body parts properly concealed.

Despite driving a couple hundred miles to get there, we didn't stay long at Hippie Hollow. I seem to recall being berated a bit on the car ride back by the friends who found it easy to embrace nudism that day, but I really didn't care.

I had already seen a side of them I hadn't planned on and was still trying to erase that image from my brain.

What brought this recollection to mind today was this story about Hippie Hollow.

I had to laugh thinking about a bunch of foolish folks rushing to the side of a boat to see naked people only to be unceremoniously dumped in the water.

It reminded me of that road trip from long ago, and how some things truly are best left to the imagination.

THE BRAVERY OF ANGELS

Amy led singing in church today. She's been able to do that for some time, but it's been very stressful and emotional for her in recent months. At times she's been shaky, and some weeks she's had to miss simply due to her weakened state of being. For whatever reason, it's suddenly become somewhat frightening for her.

Today Amy's voice was strong and I think her presence helped reinforce God's presence in our little house of worship.

Our friend Rhonda came to church today too.

It surprised me. Rhonda has had a lot of struggles in her life, and like many of us she has sought answers in a variety of ways, not all of them especially healthy or helpful. Amy has tried to get Rhonda to come to church for a long long time.

Since Amy's last surgery in January, Rhonda has been a steadying force which I must admit I wasn't expecting. In the past, we've often been the ones holding Rhonda's hand, but lately it's the other way around.

We have many friends and family who have cared for us, prayed for us, cried with us. I don't mean at all to minimize their invaluable contributions to Amy's recovery. However Rhonda has been that rare friend who has simply been there for Amy with no expectations whatsoever.

She'll call to say, "Hey let's go get coffee" but not be disappointed, or read something more into it, if Amy begs off.

She's volunteered to take Amy to doctor's appointments which sometimes can drag on for hours, and she's also been willing to simply come and sit on the couch, watch TV with Amy, and quietly pass the time.

Sometimes that's what Amy has needed most...no advice, no questions, no sympathy, only a calm presence reminding her she's not alone.

I'll readily admit it's something I've needed too.

It was a huge step for Rhonda to come to church today. Like too many people, Rhonda has had bad church experiences. Today won't heal those wounds, but perhaps it will be the start of a process toward that end.

Rhonda was nervous and felt out of place, but she was there. She walked in the door alone.

I think she did it because she knows that she hasn't given God enough of a chance in her own life , but I know she also did it because she wants to support Amy in every way possible...even when that means doing things that make her highly uncomfortable.

Walking into a church alone when you haven't been a church-goer is a very brave thing for anyone, no matter the reason.

I think Amy has the voice of an angel when she sings. Today I listened to that angelic voice with another angel sitting beside me.

It was good.

GAME ON

The NBA playoffs move at the speed of a turtle riding a glacier. Finally round two begins today. Tony Parker and crew take on the evil Lakers.

I mention Tony Parker out of guilt. For some reason I get more hits to my blog for people searching for Tony Parker than anything else. I don't think I've written a word about him in a year or more. So now for all you folks in France who search for Tony Parker info, you can at least be satisfied in this small way.

Tony has reached an honor heretofore reserved for the McGriddle.

In any case, it's Sunday. The Spurs and Lakers play this afternoon. It's a glorious day.

Let's get to it!

STAYING IN BALANCE

I walk a tightrope holding your hand.



I walk a tightrope in unsteady times.
I try to keep us in balance, moving forward.
I try to distract you from the lack of a discernible horizon.

I walk a tightrope holding out hope.
I try to keep our focus fixed, not looking back.
I try to block the wind because the slightest unintended breeze may topple you.

I walk a tightrope holding out faith.
I try to be an optimist, against my nature.
I try to assure you that losing faith in people is easy, but God is always faithful.

I walk a tightrope...but I walk it with you gladly.