A MISNOMER

I refer to flip flops as sandals, beach shoes, anything that doesn't require socks, and I know that's as wrong as when I wear some ankle white golf socks with my sandals in early morning or after sundown hours. Our granddaughter who is aware of those things told me I wasn't too fashionable.

She and others would also cringe at least somewhat with my use of sundown instead of sunset. I rarely do. For you see, I love the word sunset and I love sunsets themselves. But when the sun goes down, our house cools off. Unless in July through September. No sunset cools then.

And that's why the differentiation. Sundown means just that. That cold is going to set in. Technically I guess I could call it sunset-in. But now I'm splitting hairs that only a true linguist or word lover would want to read about.

So back to the nomenclature of flip flops. I never wear them. The strap between my big toe and my index (?) toe doesn't like them. Our daughter told me I just have to build up tolerance, maybe even to the point of a blister healed callous. No thanks. Open toes for my comfort.

So if you ever note my favorite clothes, I usually refer to tank top, shorts, and flip flops for the warm months. Long sleeve tee shirt, shorts, golf socks and tennis shoes for the coldest of the cold months. And you'll know I have not been entirely forthright with you. Because I simply do not do flip flop s. But because of this topic, I'll have Jimmy Buffet stuck in my head the rest of the morning.

SO TRUE, SO TRUE

On a variation of a poster that hung on my classroom wall for nearly a quarter century, this poster serves as its sister. My poster had the same funny eyes and stated Just Because You're Paranoid Doesn't Mean They're not out to get You.

Now why that hung on my back wall for all those years is a mystery to me. But it did. And now this poster is brought to my attention.

Do I think I suffer from paranoia? Well, let's see.

When I get stopped at every possible red light. When I'm the first car at every possible red light.

Or when I hit a golf shot that catches a sand trap by one foot, when with that additional foot I would have been on the green putting for birdie instead of blasting out of a sand trap with a huge lip.

Or when my computer goes on the fritz when I'm blogging or responding to e-mail.

Or when the tv show I've been waiting on is interrupted by an important news conference about health care. Fifty-two speeches about Obamacare. One headline about a Russia-USA nuclear agreement which will further tie the hands of our government and weaken our defense.

Or when I plan an outing, a special outing of some kind and it rains.

Oh, I could go on, but by now you get the gist that I am a complainer. Caused by my neurosis. Predicated by my paranoia. Advertised for 25 years in my classroom. Without any help from anybody.

I'd write more, but I think the neighbor girl who runs by my house everyday is stalking me. I mean, after all, she a college student, blonde and slim and athletic and attractive. Why wouldn't she be interested in me...?

THE OLD MICROSCOPE

Every time I looked through a microscope, it looked like this picture. Or it was black because my eyelashes got smashed up against the lens.

I really liked to examine paramecium up closely, but they never wanted to expose themselves to me. They stayed as hidden as the scores in the teachers' gradebooks. And after every lab practical I ever had, mine went down even more.

Since I left Dr. Andy Hall school, science and I didn't get along. My homeroom teacher in junior high was a science teacher, a basketball ref, a genuine good guy. But he allowed all kinds of animals to roam around the classroom, and as much as I liked them, they would stink up the whole room. Plus there was a big kid in there that always wanted to beat me up for some reason. That was the only time all day I saw him, but it didn't make me yearn for good old Mr. Morris' classroom.

I had excellent science teachers in junior high, but my grades didn't match my interest. I remember no lab practicals, but I do recall the microscopes that others seemed to have no problem seeing neat stuff in. It was so bad that I acted as if I saw what I was looking at.

High school and college science classes did little to raise my GPA, although with the exception of the worst science class ever taught at SIU--Weather, where for the entire quarter we studied the water table in Viet Nam, most all held my interest. Physical sciences though I tried to avoid because my math skills eroded when they stopped using numbers and relied too heavily on symbols and sines and stuff that I thought I would never use or encounter in the real world. On a lifetime of reflection to look back on, I was right.

But I think I might have won a Nobel by now if I had been able to see in a microscope. Maybe the Nobel is reserved for our Prez. I guess a Curry would do for me.

OUT OF BOTH SIDES

OR SAY IT AIN'T JOE

Profanity. Vulgarity. The F-Bomb. That's horrible.

Of course, I'm talking about Joe Biden's potty mouth. Joe Biden, Vice President of the United Sates of America. Fine example to the world.

If he's apologized, I've missed it. Oh, that's ok because the White House issued a statement that said, "That's right, Mr.Vice President, it was a big deal." Mercifully they left out the adjective Biden used.

Three minutes after a company offered tee-shirts with the complete quote, they had their first order. Something I'd love to display. MSNBC tried to down-play it, too, saying GW Bush has cursed (he used the A-bomb) and Ronald Reagan joked about nuking Russia. Sorry, media, that's not playing with me.

What Biden said is the big deal. We have allowed gutter language to slip into mixed company, into prime time tv shows, and how many school aged children will now see it as a free reign to use that word. "Well, the Vice President talks that way." Just another take off on "everybody's doing it."

Well, school age, everybody's not doing it. But you wouldn't know it by our politicos running the country. I'm tempted to add " into the ground", but this entry is about bad language.

I'd like to start a protest movement to mail Biden a bar of soap to wash out that filthy mouth. But with the Postal Service what it is... oh well, that's for another day.

JUST ONE MORE

Sometimes I simply can't help myself. After yesterday's entry, I admit I still struggle with things I can't control. I didn't want you to think I didn't, but then again it's kinda like a friend of mine who hits a bad golf shot and turns to me saying apologetically, "I didn't mean to do that." So I didn't mean to imply that I was fine with the result of the health care vote.

But I still can rest on what I wrote. So that's a dichotomy all right.

Where do we go from here? Who knows? If Pelosi doesn't know what the heck was in the bill, how should I know? But it doesn't sound or look good. I just wrote yesterday about acceptance and I will accept it. Maybe kicking and screaming all the way. I should learn from recent studies about Jacob and Joseph and not complaining, but I have a lot of spiritual maturing to do.

So, I just wanted to set the record straight. I'm saddened. I'm maddened. Ok, that's not a word, but what's madder than mad? But I'm trusting in God to take care of me. That's makes a lot more sense than hoping my government will. Wow, now I am sounding like a Republican.

PERSPECTIVE

"VICTORY/OUTCRY" was the headline in yesterday's AZ Republic in response to Sunday's historic health care vote. Paint me on the side of Outcry.

But even before I had read Pastor Rick Warren's daily devotional that I receive, I had already had a softening of the heart. "In the Bible, the words understanding, wisdom, and discernment all have to do with perspective. The opposites, hardness of heart, blinded, and dullness."

From my perspective, it's easy to see my hardness of heart. I vowed never to vote for anyone who supported that bill. But when I examined that oath, I thought "I would never have voted for them anyway." My next thought was "Nice job of uniting the country. The last time I saw it so of one mind was when Nixon said he wanted to bring the country together: he did, against him." So, yes, Obama, you're a uniter all right. My final thought (not really, for I am capable of more than 3) was "there goes the Democrat stranglehold on Congress. How soon is it till November?" Again, all from my perspective.

But if I believe in a sovereign God, and I most certainly do, then I know that this was the result of His will, His perspective. Yes, I prayed as many did that the bill would not muster the needed votes, that the Democrats against abortion would resist following this plan. But does that mean God didn't hear those prayers? Not at all. It means that at this time, it was not in His will.

I can rest on that. For He's still on the throne. I can't see His perspective, but what's important is His perfect plan--not mine.

VITAMIN D

OR DOES ANYONE HAVE A LIGHT?

Other than to take a neat picture, I wonder why anyone would want to hold the sun in their hand. Capture it, control it, use it, call on it, save it for a rainy day, all yes. But to hold it?

You hold onto your hat. Or you try to hold it when your bladder is full. Hold 'em or fold 'em in a card game. Hold up means to stop or to give up whatever possessions you have. Hold it is a more meaningful command than even hold up. Hold your horses a rather old fashioned saying, also designating stop.

Putting a hold on it is sometimes all it takes to ensure that one has first dibs. Hold on is also another kind of warning of impending danger. Hold tight or holding company or even holed up are variations or uses ranging in definition for some kind of security.

Then there's hold out, something more and more athletes are doing meaning withhold as in services. Hold all the marbles, hold the ace in their hands, or even hold the phone vary in situational usage.

But we're back to holding the sun in her hands. God held the whole world and that's understandable. Atlas once held the earth and that's not. But it's another neat picture and sometimes that's all there is. Analogies and applications break down eventually. And some never much get off the ground. Just hold fast for I'll have another entry, Lord willing, tomorrow.

FORGIVENESS SEEMS TO BE THE SECOND HARDEST WORD

Mr. Elton John sang of Sorry Seems to be the Hardest Word. Saying it and truly asking for forgiveness are too different things.

The Wimpy Kid who wrote Gregory the note is a classic example. If he were really sorry, I don't think he would have offered the booger for recycling. And sensitive reader, that is the last time I will mention what he suggested as an offering of harmony or revenge.

But when we say we're sorry, hard as that may be, we can still mask our insincerity. "Now, apologize to your brother," probably never resulted in any true remorse. Waiting for just the right moment doesn't work well either. Because as time passes, so does guilt.

But so far, I've only addressed sorry. Do you think Gregory forgave? Me, neither. He may have even forgotten or put on the back burner the incident. I was tempted to say "wiped it from his mind", but I promised no more references. But if he's of the age to engage in that kid of behavior, I doubt that he is mature enough to forgive.

Even when we can truly say, "I forgive you," not many of us can add "and I've forgotten about it." That takes on a saintlike quality.

But when forgiveness comes, it really is a good feeling. When you can let it go, it is refreshing. It makes you feel as if you are a better person, not necessarily better than the one who wronged you, but you have illustrated that you have demonstrated a Christ-like quality.

Take it one step further and try to forgive yourself. No we are seriously talking about some tough stuff.