Are You An Angel Watching Over Someone?

We wander through this life hoping that God is looking down on us with favor. Sometimes it’s pretty clear that He’s right there with supernatural intercession. Amy Grant did a great job of describing that to us with her song Angels Watching Over Me.

But what about the day-to-day work that needs doing? The stuff that falls into the little cracks where celestial attention is diverted still needs to be done. That, My friend, is where you come into the picture.

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Sometimes it will be something as simple as grabbing the keys someone dropped on the way into the grocery store and running them up to the person. Other times it will be listening, and praying, as someone you may not even know pours out their worldly troubles and seeks a solution.

Other times, it will be a bit more complex. I’ve given an example or two in the past, but this weeks is a cautionary one. I pulled into a parking lot at a major shopping complex last Friday and parked my car towards the end of the row. I looked to my left so I wouldn’t “door ding” the car next to me and saw a sleeping 3-5 year old in a car seat in the back seat. Nobody else in the car.

It wasn’t hot out, as a matter of fact it was perfectly nice weather to sit in a car and listen to the radio. But all I could think of was that this was baiting the devil with a vulnerable child. There was no sightline from the store to the car, and certainly nobody would notice the child in the back being harmed at that distance.

Not wanting to push the panic button, and understanding that maybe mom-or dad- ran in to grab milk after a busy day, I didn’t call the police. I did take a picture of the license plate, and then I watched. I grabbed a bench outside the store and watched that car for the next 15-20 minutes. Finally mom came out and drove away.

Friday I was the angel watching over. Mom didn’t know it, but once the timer hit 20 minutes I was calling the police. You only get so much slack on this sort of thing. But what if I hadn’t watched over that child? Would they have been harmed? We’ll never know. But I do know that God counts on us to watch over others. Especially the helpless.

Be that angel this week. Take the time to watch over someone that needs it today.

See you soon.

Oh, and if you like this page, tell your friends about it. Also, hit the Facebook like button and add it to your list. I’d appreciate it.

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When you finish reading any book (especially mine) please review it at www.amazon.com, www.barnesandnoble.com, and www.goodreads.com. Your review increases the chances of someone looking for a new book greatly. Authors appreciate your review, even if it is just “I thought this was a good read and will give it to my dog to chew. I especially liked the ending, because it made me feel better when he killed all of the main characters. (no spoilers, please)” Those few words (more than 20, fewer than 1,000 is ideal), and a 1-5 rating, make or break how the search engines find us. Thanks in advance.

Some Things I’d Like To See

The news has been full of cries for diversity and inclusiveness lately. I think about these things as I roam about the planet, and have come to realize there are things you never see but ought to if things were balanced. I have, for your convenience compiled a brief list of them below.

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I would like to see a nail salon staffed primarily by the Irish. Perhaps “Paddy’s Pedicures” would be a good name.

An old style Vietnamese pub with an assortment of traditional Vietnamese pub food and beer.

A really high-class German tea room. Perhaps with clotted cream cakes like you’d get in Bremerhaven.

Some kind of Spanish lefse bar.

A Mexican sushi establishment where you can only order in Spanish.

A Norwegian fried chicken place. Hopefully with some serious corn bread – Oslo style.

A Swedish reggae dance hall. Nothing says reggae to me like the land and music of ABBA. Here’s what I mean:

I think you get the point I’m trying to make: not everything must revolve around the axis of diversity. Somethings are just better the way we’ve found them in life already. (The biggest exception is the Hmong fried chicken at the Hmongtown center in Saint Paul – probably the top five in my fried chicken experience.)

Let’s celebrate what others do exceptionally well, and not try to make them as mediocre as possible. It’s not stereotyping if your culture provides you with some basis for a cuisine, literature, or music based on centuries of experience. It’s not racist, not genetic, it’s a practiced set of knowledge passed between generations. Not a thing wrong with recognizing that bit of beauty that God has gifted us with along the way.

And please, for the love of all that is foodie, nobody open an English steak house. I couldn’t bear the thought.

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Assault on Saint Agnes is available here. Just click this link!

When you finish reading any book (especially mine) please review it at www.amazon.com, www.barnesandnoble.com, and www.goodreads.com. Your review increases the chances of someone looking for a new book greatly. Authors appreciate your review, even if it is just “I thought this was a good read and will give it to my dog to chew. I especially liked the ending, because it made me feel better when he killed all of the main characters. (no spoilers, please)” Those few words (more than 20, fewer than 1,000 is ideal), and a 1-5 rating, make or break how the search engines find us. Thanks in advance.

No, I’m Not Walking To New York

For the last year I’ve been walking to work most days. My company relocated me to the same building where I started out 20 years ago. 20 years ago I got sick of waiting for a bus that was always either early or late. So, in a fit of pique, I walked to work one day (I was/am/will always be very early to work.) It took me about an hour and I smelled like a goat when I got there. But the next week I did it again, and then I started doing it almost every day. (Thankfully for my coworkers, there is a health club nearby where I can shower and change before walking the final 3 blocks to work.) At the end of that summer, 20 years ago, I’d lost about 40 pounds and was able to complete a 1/2 marathon. Felt great.

I kept it up for the next three years, and when the great economic spasm that marked 9-11 and the end of the dot.com bubble arrived, I had to take on a job that wasn’t so busable/walkable. And, to the best of my knowledge, that company had no locker room to which I was admitted. For the next 15 years I grew sedentary and lazy. I had one spurt of trying not to die fat during that time, but a horrendous illness laid me low and I kind of gave up on doing it ever again.

Until last year. Something had to change. Me. As a result, I am in really good shape for a huge fat guy. I am no longer the dashing stud-muffin I was 30 years ago, but for an almost-old-man, I’m doing pretty well. This morning I walked to work wearing a 60 pound pack. Three miles with that pig on my back wasn’t easy, but I was never winded and I felt good when I got to work.

Thursday I’ll be taking a little 11 mile stroll to work. I plan on stopping at the eye-doctor first. If all goes as planned, it will be a 1/2 day of vacation well spent. If I’m under the time I plan, I will walk two more miles and call it a 1/2 marathon. Yeah, I’m nuts, but I’m stronger than I have been in years.

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What’s the moral of this story? You can do it as well. I have to admit that I was very comfortable eating a bag of licorice for lunch, after a nutritious breakfast of a dozen donuts, and a warmup to some ice cream or burgers for dinner. My blood pressure, A1C, and joints were in disagreement. It’s not easy. It sucks on -10 degree mornings shrugging on 5 layers of workout clothes and ice grips before heading down the road. (Note: your Right Guard is frozen in the pack when you get to the gym, and only thaws out after the shower.)

The title today? Prompted by the conversation with two very fit people in their sixties who stopped their run to ask if I was walking to New York or something. I guess the 100 liter Alpine pack and six foot walking staff might give that impression. (I apologize if they read this and are younger than I am – in that case, you guys need some moisturizer for your skin!) I was a bit jealous, as they sped off at a rapid pace and I kept lumber along.

But that’s what I do, and I do it well: I lumber along.

Here’s to lumbering to the finish line.

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Assault on Saint Agnes is available here. Just click this link!

When you finish reading any book (especially mine) please review it at www.amazon.com, www.barnesandnoble.com, and www.goodreads.com. Your review increases the chances of someone looking for a new book greatly. Authors appreciate your review, even if it is just “I thought this was a good read and will give it to my dog to chew. I especially liked the ending, because it made me feel better when he killed all of the main characters. (no spoilers, please)” Those few words (more than 20, fewer than 1,000 is ideal), and a 1-5 rating, make or break how the search engines find us. Thanks in advance.

You Can’t See Poop In The Dark

Last Saturday I attended a fund-raiser at a friend’s farm. I got to run the grill with the able, and appreciated, help of Max Aristide. He’s the best. Between us, we managed to feed the whole crowd and have a few laughs over a VERY hot grill.

Me and Max – a great team.

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After we’d fed them all, and I ate way more than I should, there was a bit of speechifing and such, then my wife and I went home to spring the dog. It was almost full-dark when we got to our car, and a young father was asked by his kids if they could go see the animals. His response was yes. But as they ran off, he reminded them that “You can’t see poop in the dark.”

Now that I’ve quit laughing, I’ve found a pretty deep message in that line. Especially in light of the events last weekend in Virginia.

None of us can see poop in the dark. We stumble around in our blindness and hope to see a light that will guide our way, and illuminate our path. Sometimes, if we’re really lucky, it’s through Jesus. That’s how I found my friend Max. My life is good, and guided from above with that light that only Heaven can provide.

But for some, both left and right, black and white (and every other hue of skin as well), there’s an eternal darkness surrounding their soul. They are bitter, and full of hatred and … all of it. Every sin you can find that one uses against another is there in some form. So they point fingers and call names and punch old women in the head and … no punctuation on that run, as in real life it’s nonstop and sickening.

Maybe the worst part of it, to me, is the demand that you become ever more outraged and violent over these things. Frankly, after seeing a death camp in person I’ve pegged the outrage meter. So if you expect me to violate my friends based on skin color, or political affiliation, because I’m supposed to be more disgusted than I am, it will be a long wait. Yup. I can be disdainful, sarcastic, filled with loathing, and you will never realize it because you aren’t in my skin. Just assume that I find it distasteful and horrible as well.

Now that we’ve established that, what can we do to move forward? Let’s go back to the very first thing I wrote about in this blog today: love. I love Max. He’s my friend. We grew up in different countries, different cultures, speak different languages in our homes (his English is way better than my Creole) and have different outlooks. But what I know is that Max and I both love people based on the teachings of Christ.

Doesn’t make me better than anyone else. Doesn’t make me less ignorant on a whole host of topics. But it does fill me with joy, light, and the presence of God during difficult times.

Let’s pray for our country. Let’s work to get along with each other. Let’s quit pointing fingers if someone else isn’t sufficiently outraged in our opinion. Most of all, let’s get ready for the ultimate judge of our character. That time apparently isn’t too far off.

See ya soon.

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Assault on Saint Agnes is available here. Just click this link!

When you finish reading any book (especially mine) please review it at www.amazon.com, www.barnesandnoble.com, and www.goodreads.com. Your review increases the chances of someone looking for a new book greatly. Authors appreciate your review, even if it is just “I thought this was a good read and will give it to my dog to chew. I especially liked the ending, because it made me feel better when he killed all of the main characters. (no spoilers, please)” Those few words (more than 20, fewer than 1,000 is ideal), and a 1-5 rating, make or break how the search engines find us. Thanks in advance.

Law Enforcement – The Daily Grind Is Done With Excellent People

Long before some of you were born, I squeezed into a patrol car for a year of my life. I loved it at times, feared it at times, respected it always. I worked with some great people, some adequate people, and a couple of awful people. No doubt, some of my colleagues put me in a category as above. I hope it was at least the adequate one.

Over the last four decades, law enforcement has changed its methods of training and operation. It’s a lot more dangerous than it was (for most cops) today. People don’t think twice about being belligerent, actively resisting, and daring the officers to do their job. There are a lot more racial slurs dished out to the officers. And not as you might think. I talked to more than a few cops in my research this summer (for a book and for a seminar I’m teaching) and the casual racism the public subjects them to is utterly awful.

Nope. Not talking about just black officers, but I’m more than sure they get their share based on other inputs. I’m talking about Asian, Caucasian, and Hispanic officers who take an unbelievable amount of crap from the public. Most of it is minority subjects (of a group other than the one the officer belongs to) trying to interject a race component and get the cop to back off and not do their job. Trust me, it just annoys the officers, and most of it causes ulcers, not prevents arrests.

If you think that cops are targeting people based on race, go on a ride-along. If you can’t go on a ride along, do this simple test: Put a lawn chair on the sidewalk at a busy intersection. When a car comes by that fails to signal a turn, or has a burned out light, or looks drunk, or any other infraction, write down the plate number and the description of the driver and passengers. You’re a better man than I, Charlie Brown, if you can do that in the daytime on a consistent basis, and at night it is virtually impossible. So just chuck that profiling thing away. I write this only because it damages the reputation of good people when this accusation is thrown about to avoid the results of illegal activity. It harms the souls of good people who know better, but are not allowed to fight the charges in the public domain.

Please follow me on Twitter, and “Like” the Facebook author page. Don’t forget to subscribe (the box is on the right side of the page) to be eligible for free e-books and other benefits! Oh yeah – grab a copy of Assault on Saint Agnes if you’re of a mind.

Now that I’ve kicked the soapbox out of the way, let me tell you what it is you expect your officers to do in an 8 hour shift. Not just today, but every day. The answer is anything you call and ask them to do. Yes, they’re called “first-responders” for a reason: they are the first ones you call.

During the ride-alongs I did this summer, I was blessed to be with sworn officers from the Ramsey County Sheriff’s Office, and the Bloomington Police Department. I was given an inside look from before roll call to end of the shift. I was an observer, not an actor. I did, in full disclosure, get pulled in to a few events, mainly because nobody my size is invisible. I wore civilian clothes and stayed on the perimeter of the action. But some citizens and suspects wanted me to act, or get clear of the scene. I think this had a minimal impact on the officers and deputies I was around. I did make sure to watch their backs. That is just who I am. But no weapons or force on my part, just eyes.

I was deeply impressed with the professionalism and quality of equipment and deportment both departments showed me. I was even more impressed by the fact that the sense of humor, and the good attitude of the officers on the street, is undiminished in the face of modern threats to their safety. Cops will be cops in the briefing room, and the humor is not different at all from the military. They can take a joke. And the gallows humor is the same as it was decades ago.

So what do we expect our officers to do? Here’s a typical list of a shift:

Inspect car, make sure you have Narcan so you can save overdosed opiate users, long gun and weapons, computer functioning properly, radio working, lights, sirens, vehicle lights, emergency flares, road cones, and first aid bags to bring inside before the ambulance gets there.

Briefing: get a list of people that are a danger to the community and are wanted, businesses that need close attention (prostitution, drugs, or likely to be robbed based on some intelligence the department has obtained), unusual items such as a parked car that bears watching – it may or may not be an issue, but neighbors complain that it might be abandoned – and a host of minutiae including payroll issues. Usually a cursory inspection of uniforms and weapons is done as well, but since all the cops I saw looked “squared away” it was just a glance by the Sgt. as they did the briefing.

In the next 8 hours (this is a combined list from both ride-alongs, but pretty accurate for that time span. No names, I signed an NDA, and am making these just generic enough not to specifically identify the people involved) we:

Detained and sent to detox a violent drunk who was scaring people at a retail store. This call was waiting when we cleared the station. The officers were very cool and calm, and the suspect wrote his own ticket into handcuffs with his threatening and violent behavior.

Responded to a series of parking complaints. None of them justified.

Responded to a man who was wandering the streets, incoherent, had soiled himself, and had no idea where he was. We returned him to his home where the caretaker was waiting.

Searched for a homicide suspect thought to be in the area.

Responded to a fire call where a gas leak had made a house dangerous. We waited for the homeowners to explain why the fire department had to be let in by a neighbor, and what they needed to do next.

Responded to a dead body in a residence. They were. Wait until Coroner arrives or supervisor releases you. But getting there you have to drive like crazy because it comes in as an unresponsive subject who isn’t breathing. You want to get there in time to help. Sometimes it’s already too late.

Respond to a domestic disturbance. Everybody is drunk and stupid. It’s one heck of a combination. No arrests.

Pull over a drunk driver. They’re on the edge of the limit so they get to go home. Wifey drives.

Long, involved domestic where everybody is sober, everybody has an old axe to grind, and nobody is telling the truth. Everyone wants the other one to go to jail. Nobody goes to jail. The police, I promise, will be back there a few more times before Christmas.

That’s in 8 hours. Every day. So the officers were marriage counselors, professional wrestlers, sobriety counselors, traffic wardens, building evacuators, referees, consolers of loved ones, and filmed repeatedly by every citizen who they came in contact with that night.

Oh, yeah: we did get dinner one night, a hot dog. We paid for our own meal. We never stopped for coffee, or donuts. Bathroom break was at a fire station.

Never stopped to just talk or hang out, always eyeing what was going on, checking plates for stolen cars, checking people’s identification for warrants, answering questions about natural gas leaks, and generally working extremely hard to serve the public.

The Bloomington Police Department and Ramsey County Sheriff’s Office were both excellent to deal with on those occasions. Polite, smart, compassionate, and real. I have left out the two calls that would rip your hearts out, but in both cases the officers went above and beyond their public charge to help citizens with major problems in their lives.

In short, the cops on the beat work hard and deserve your faith. I was impressed, and very grateful to both departments for the opportunity to see them in action.

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Assault on Saint Agnes is available here. Just click this link!

When you finish reading any book (especially mine) please review it at www.amazon.com, www.barnesandnoble.com, and www.goodreads.com. Your review increases the chances of someone looking for a new book greatly. Authors appreciate your review, even if it is just “I thought this was a good read and will give it to my dog to chew. I especially liked the ending, because it made me feel better when he killed all of the main characters. (no spoilers, please)” Those few words (more than 20, fewer than 1,000 is ideal), and a 1-5 rating, make or break how the search engines find us. Thanks in advance.