In My Universe, There’s Two Kinds Of Families.

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That’s a gross oversimplification. There are a whole lot between the polar opposites I’m about to address. But we’re not grading on a curve here, just talking about a bit of a revelation I had this weekend on Facebook.

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I was enjoying the spectacle of my friends posting their semi-regular kid updates this weekend. We don’t have any children without fur, and that’s for the best. (Truly, God is wise and avoided cursing some child with me as a father. I might be disturbed/disturbing, but imagine if I got to mold someone from birth in my image. Whoa!) I live through other’s college tuition bills, since Stormy isn’t prone to doing much beyond simple addition. (I’m pretty sure there’s an algorithm for how many times she must summon me to the back door depending on my keystrokes on the computer, but that’s for another blog.)

I realized that none of my friends were posting pictures of their son or daughter heading off to Cabo with twenty of their best friends for a weekend of sun and debauchery. Nor, for that matter, were my friends headed to the local bar to go nuts for Saint Patrick’s Day. (Except for my CT friends. They’ll drink to anything! Cheers, shipmates.)

Where were all these people during spring break? Missions. God, help me, but I’m the guy who looks forward to mission trips. Furthermore, I enjoy it when my friends are raising their children up to do the same. Double the enjoyment when they go on their missions at the same time.

This is in direct opposition to those folks who send their kids on debauches, or go for it themselves. I used to live that life in a minor way. Passed out in the chair in the corner, empty bottles on every flat surface, I could party with the best. Never did the spring break thing, but there was more than one boozy road trip in my life. It is who I was at that point in my life.

Looking at it now, I really wish I’d been saved as a kid. My parents tried to drill some God into my thick skull, but I was too smart to fall for that gibberish. Yeah. Right. The wasted years when I could have been growing as a man and a soul. I wonder what my life would have been like if I’d been a kid who wanted to go on a mission trip somewhere.

Is there a moral or a message here? Yes, there is: if you are an influencer of children, what influence are you having? Are you offering them the chance to grow in God? Or, like I was, are you telling them about the awesome bars in Naples and Toulon?

That’s a pretty heavy question. I am planning a trip very soon, and one of the things I’m looking forward to is the first time people going with us, and what I can bring to the experience to help them. I’m not talking about which shoes to pack, but what parts of their hearts they want to leave behind here, that they might replace them with something from our destination.

That’s what mission trips do for me: a heart healing through locational surgery. I leave something behind and bring something home.

You’ll hear more about that in the next few months. (I’m not even counting Dengue Fever. Brought that one back with me the last time…)

In conclusion (a phrase you hear in Baptist churches no fewer than four times each sermon) I applaud the parents, and children, who head for the mission on spring break. I like being your friend. I’m honored to know you. I’m blessed to have been able to hang out with you in some of the strangest places and laugh like loons over a grimy set of clothing and a bottle of water.

I love my new life in Jesus.

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I have a favor to ask of my readers: would you kindly share this blog with your friends, family, and colleagues? We hit a million views in 2014, and while the readership continues a nice growth trend, it could be a lot better. Just hit the Facebook like button, share it on your timeline, tweet the blog with a link, and tell that person at the next desk that there’s this lunatic who writes about all sorts of stuff that they might like.

I appreciate your help. When we hit 2,000,000 readers I will give away something cool to a drawing from the subscribers (that’s the box on the right toward the top) who have helped promote this mess. No used sheets, probably not honey, more likely gift cards. Be a part of it. I’ll update from time to time where we’re at in the count. Thanks.

On Deadline: You Get This Nonsense

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I’ll be back next week. This week is dedicated to finishing a new novel so that I can enter it in a contest. You’ll be glad for the break, trust me.

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So, first, the random picture.

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I picked that one because it’s where the cursor landed when the mouse wheel spun in the gallery. But it’s a good pic, three generations of assorted spooks, sailors, and Marines. (How come they get honked if you don’t capitalize but the rest of us are cool with it?)

Now, a rant: McDonalds, your new bags are too thin. They rip every time. Especially with your boxed products. I know it’s saving you money, but I’ll flip in the extra 5 cents for a bag that makes it to the car.

Now, a dog picture.

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Finally, thank you all for coming by. I promise real content next week.

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I have a favor to ask of my readers: would you kindly share this blog with your friends, family, and colleagues? We hit a million views in 2014, and while the readership continues a nice growth trend, it could be a lot better. Just hit the Facebook like button, share it on your timeline, tweet the blog with a link, and tell that person at the next desk that there’s this lunatic who writes about all sorts of stuff that they might like.

I appreciate your help. When we hit 2,000,000 readers I will give away something cool to a drawing from the subscribers (that’s the box on the right toward the top) who have helped promote this mess. No used sheets, probably not honey, more likely gift cards. Be a part of it. I’ll update from time to time where we’re at in the count. Thanks.

Stormy Versus Reality, Round 4,573,392

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One of us is nuts. Most people will vote for me being crazier than the sheepdog, but I beg to differ.

One, or more, of us is nuts.

One, or more, of us is nuts.

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Let’s start with that picture and talk about my love affair with the dog in the lower left corner. I took that picture during the summer of 2014. We were both sitting on the back step enjoying the day when she cuddled up. Yes, my dog, the standoff queen. The camera came out and the moment was captured.

Her behavior, on occasion, is either bizarre or sweet. Let’s talk about Mrs. Bunny. Stormy and Mrs. Bunny have a curious relationship. Mrs. Bunny is stupid and often turns the wrong way when being chased. This means that Stormy almost catches her, and it’s only by God’s grace that the rabbit is still around to torment her at this point. Does that stop Stormy? No. However, I seriously question her genetic code when she looks right past the rabbit and prioritizes barking at the bird on the phone line. Maybe she’s cutting the little butterball a break. Or, she is so disconnected with how to feed herself that birds are more attractive as prey.

Speaking of food, I regularly try to poison her with dog biscuits. My wife never is suspect in this plot to kill the dog, just ask the dog. But when I offer her a “cookie” she often sits there closed mouthed and will not make eye contact. On other occasions, with the same body language and tone of voice, she scarfs it gladly.

There is a third instance of cookie madness: the “you’re a cheap jerk” look. Stormy and I both could afford to lose weight. I break her overly large treats into smaller tidbits. I get the look on a regular basis. Mind you, I break down and toss her a potato chip, a gummy bear, or other treat on occasion just to break the monotony. I even bring home doggy heroin (Frosty Paws) for her from the store. But when she hears that cookie snap in half you’d think I’d just sentenced her to death by slow starvation.

I don’t wonder about her as much as I used to when she first arrived. It’s slowly dawned on me that she’s eccentric and finally comfortable in revealing those quirks to my wife and me. That’s love and trust winning out.

Right after Christmas she was needy. I hadn’t been around much and she was short on her morning snuggle sessions. When I get up I invite her on the couch while I watch the news. One morning I was headed out after just fifteen minutes. She looked panic stricken: “How can you leave so soon?” It was tough to put her in her room (my room when I’m in there, her room when it keeps her from barking at passing aircraft) as I left for work.

We’re both a little nuts. I felt the same way.

But I do love that picture. What a great looking dog. What an improvement in my life to have her in it.

Book Review: Jaded By Varina Denman – ***** Five Stars

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Over the past few years you’ve seen me crack under the pressure and review romance books by fellow authors. I like to review books by people from my agency, The Blythe Daniel Agency. It’s fun. I know them. I do review other books from other agencies on occasion as well. My one rule is that I will only review books that would rate a four or five star review on Amazon. If it’s less than that, you will hear nothing from me. I read an awful lot of books that never make it to this blog. Jaded by Varina Denman is one of the few that made the cut, and is the first five star review of 2015.

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Varina Denman (Stolen with pride from Varinadenman.com)

Varina Denman (Stolen with pride from Varinadenman.com)

Jaded by Varina Denman

Jaded by Varina Denman

[Full disclosure: I received a pre-publication copy of this work compliments of the author for review/endorsement purposes.]

Varina Denman has an incredible debut novel with Jaded. I was expecting another pleasant Christian love story with some wit and dry humor thrown in, nothing too heavy. I was wrong. This book has such evocative writing that I kept seeing the movie in my head as I read through it this week. Not only did it read like watching a movie, but it was a really good movie. One I would be proud to take my God Daughter to see on a Saturday, and my beloved wife on Sunday. Mom will have to wait for the Monday showing.

Set in a small (suffocatingly so in my worldview) Texas town it combines elements of To Kill a Mocking Bird and Cape Fear. I don’t know if Varina meant to do that, but I loved the fact that I made the connection: it meant that the story elements were strong enough to bring those very deep emotional links right out in front. When you’re compared to iconic authors right out of the chute, you’ve got the mojo.

Characters in this novel are crisply drawn. They are not the stereotypical stuff of romance books. As a matter of fact, while this book started out as a Christian Romance novel, it would be a huge error to place it in that category alone. It’s a brilliant novel that is enjoyable reading for all adults. I prefer action-thrillers, but Denman kept me hooked enough that I’d carve out time after work to read each evening. Good stuff. Pacing, plot, and some twists were all excellent and kept me motoring right along.

The only downfall of the book is that she writes so well in scenes with food that I had to stop and snack – repeatedly. So far the must have list this week includes chicken fried steak, hot dogs, cotton candy, burgers, and hot chocolate. Thanks a lot for the weight gain!

Part of a series of novels, it’s set the hook deeply enough that I will buy her future works without reservation. She’s really set the bar for debut authors with this one. I’m blessed enough to work with a stable full of geniuses like Varina: now I have to work harder to keep my place in the agency.

Well done, colleague.

Varina’s book is available right now on Amazon. Run over and buy it by clicking this link.

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I have a favor to ask of my readers: would you kindly share this blog with your friends, family, and colleagues? We hit a million views in 2014, and while the readership continues a nice growth trend, it could be a lot better. Just hit the Facebook like button, share it on your timeline, tweet the blog with a link, and tell that person at the next desk that there’s this lunatic who writes about all sorts of stuff that they might like.

I appreciate your help. When we hit 2,000,000 readers I will give away something cool to a drawing from the subscribers (that’s the box on the right toward the top) who have helped promote this mess. No used sheets, probably not honey, more likely gift cards. Be a part of it. I’ll update from time to time where we’re at in the count. Thanks.

Gee, That Guy Is Loud. God, Please Bless Him.

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I was out to dinner the other night, and the restaurant was starting to fill up. Instead of our usual “Seniors Early Bird” meal time, we were actually there for the dinner hour. Our hostess seated us next to a table with three people. Good deal: all of them over 8 years old. I love children, but the stares I get with the beard are sometimes distracting to everyone during the meal. Adults rock when I’m out incognito.

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Ten minutes into our stay, adults weren’t so cool. The man at the table next to us was pretty loud. That’s really saying something when I have left the hearing aids at home. I tried to tune him out, but he was pretty constant in his chatter. He was regaling his table with childhood memories of the restaurant and the times they’d had.

I gave up politely ignoring him, and caught a glimpse out of the corner of my eye: He was in love. He had that glow of affection all over his face, and the target of his attention was an elderly woman who looked a lot like him.

Being a snoop, I now tuned in and watched him surreptitiously. I had to figure out what was going on here and see if it made sense. It did make sense. And it broke my heart with joy that such a good man would share his evening with me in this restaurant.

You see, the woman was his mother. And she had obviously been afflicted with a stroke or some other disablement that required the use of the walker leaning against the table. She was trying to speak back, but couldn’t muster any words from what I could see.

He was in love with his mom. He was sharing old times with her, and carrying the conversation by himself, because she had lost her ability to speak.

I’m a judgmental jerk on occasion. I’m glad I violated social protocols and listened in on this man. He was someone I could appreciate: He carried his heart on his sleeve.

We’re all getting older. Infirmity comes knocking without warning. I hope that when, not if, I start to lose my faculties some young pup takes the time to take me out for dinner and make sure I’m comfortable. It’s not the price of the meal, but the time that you give others that makes you a great man.

Sir, I don’t know your name, but you will be in my prayers tonight. Thank you for honoring your mother.

Since my mom reads this train wreck: Mom, I’ll take you out to dinner anywhere, anytime. I love you. (But if it’s Waffle House, I may go twice!)

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I have a favor to ask of my readers: would you kindly share this blog with your friends, family, and colleagues? We hit a million views in 2014, and while the readership continues a nice growth trend, it could be a lot better. Just hit the Facebook like button, share it on your timeline, tweet the blog with a link, and tell that person at the next desk that there’s this lunatic who writes about all sorts of stuff that they might like.

I appreciate your help. When we hit 2,000,000 readers I will give away something cool to a drawing from the subscribers (that’s the box on the right toward the top) who have helped promote this mess. No used sheets, probably not honey, more likely gift cards. Be a part of it. I’ll update from time to time where we’re at in the count. Thanks.