I work with bums. Literally. Homeless, hungry, nothing-to-their-names, down & out bums. They’ve been one of those scary people you see hanging out in parking lots of convenience stores begging for change.

One actually went around the neighborhood knocking on doors begging for can goods because he was hungry. The other was sitting in a hotel room, trying to find work, his fiancé undergoing chemo for a brain tumor. Another was an unemployed roofer, actually willing to work for food.

Over the years, I’ve worked with several of those type men. For a multitude of reasons, they are unemployed yet willing to work, they are willing to beg because they are hungry (and sadly, they need cigarettes…you’d think that’d be one thing they would give up but the more desperate some get, the more they turn to something).

Last week, I listened as a “pillar of the community” and professed leader in his church go into a tirade about street people. I was stunned. His beliefs were so far from the truth it was a shock that he was uttering those words. I might have expected it from some less educated, from people with no real ties to the community, but this was someone who ought to know better.

…”lazy, don’t want to work, expecting me and you to support them and their habits.”

Could be. I’ve seen some of those folks in the soup kitchen line, and could probably find a dozen con artists, shiftless and lazy bums who not only won’t work but will expend more energy figuring angles than earning a penny

But what about those others?

David was down and out. No work, no food, nothing. He couldn’t pay his rent, utilities, and was down to looking for cigarette butts along the curb. He had zero skills. As a former gang member, about all he knew was a life of violence and drugs, theft and doing what he wanted and taking when he could.

Today, he is a semi-skilled painter, laborer, willing to work even when he doesn’t know the job. I’ve seen him tackle just about anything to earn a living. He’s cleaned up demolished houses, built flower beds, painted whole houses (interior and exterior) and has tried his hand at roofing, sheetrock, and is learning basic carpentry.

In his words: he was given a chance to become something better.

When this so-called pillar of the community finished his little petty tirade, I asked him point blank: is this what you think God wants you to do? Trash talk them so you can ignore them?

His response told me everything I needed to know. “People have to want to help themselves before you can help them.”

Sadly, I walked away. The opposite of love isn’t hate, it’s indifference.

One of my goals has been to do something for someone every day. Some days I can’t do much more than offer a word of encouragement, sometimes a dollar, and occasionally I can really splurge and offer something substantial. But every day, I try.

Don’t become indifferent. Don’t look for excuses. Look for opportunities. There are people out there that really do need and want a hand up, but you have to get out there to find them.

The mission field isn’t in front of the pulpit; it is on the sidewalk just down the street. It’s huddled in the cold house across the way. It’s standing in line at the soup kitchen. It’s where the truly needed are searching for hope.

And it’s up to us to find them, not ignore them.

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We have a tendency to make things a lot harder than they really are. Of course, the problem sometimes isn’t us, it’s everyone else.

Over the years, I’ve tried to teach my sons that most of the time, life is not always hard. I sort of jokingly advised them that there are really only three things they needed to do, three simple rules.

1. Take responsibility for your own actions
2. Marry for love
3. Never buy cheap paint.

1. We have a tendency to blame others for our mistakes. One of the greatest strengths of people I’ve learned to admire the most is that they don’t point the finger when things are their fault. They “man up”. But along with that taking of responsibility, they examine their actions and work to turn the mistake into something positive.
2. People tend to marry for so many wrong reasons. I wish I could explain love. Millions of poems and stories have been written about it. Like the cliché, if I have to explain it you probably wouldn’t understand. Looks, money, sex, companionship. How many divorces are there because the criteria for marriage forgot love?
3. You get what you pay for. This is true in not only products but people. Invest wisely in quality. On the other hand, learn that there is a vast difference sometimes in cost and quality. Paying a high price for a cheap item is throwing your money away. There are so many things in life that we fail to examine for quality and accept second best because we just couldn’t wait (see item 2).

Everything I needed to know I learned in Kindergarten?
Not me, everything I needed to know I learned from Rock Lyrics:
Lynyrd Skynyrd taught me that instead of making things so complicated, I really just needed to be a Simple Man



Well mama told me, when I was young
Said sit beside me, my only son
And listen closely to what I say
And if you do this, it'll help you some sunny day

Or take your time don't live to fast
Troubles will come and they will pass
You'll find a woman and you'll find love
And don't forget that there's is a someone up above

Forget your lust for the rich man's gold
All that you need now is in your soul
And you can do this(oh baby)if you try
All that I want from you my son is to be satisfied

Oh don't you worry
You'll find yourself
Follow your heart
And nothing else
And you can do this(oh baby)if you try

All that I want from you my son is to be satisfied
And be a simple kind of man
Be a something that you love and understand
Baby be a simple kind of man
Oh won't you do this for me son if you can(if you can)

**
Learn to love others, love yourself, Love God and then follow your heart.
It really is that simple.
We just make it harder than it really is.

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Isn't love strange?
A word we arrange
With no thought or care
Maker of despair
The Moody Blues From ‘Isn’t Life Strange’

Why is it so hard to say? On the other hand, why is it sometimes so easy to say it without sincerity? Women find it easier to say, unless it is the other love, that one and only person. Then, they find themselves hesitant, waiting to be sure. Most men find it easy to say to women, glibly whispering the words…without meaning them
We’ve found ways to say it without it sounding too intimate.
“I love you, man” became a catch phrase that allowed guys to say it as though joking.
“Love you guys” is a way to end a conversation without actually pinpointing the individual and saying specifically “I love you”.

Funny how we’re becoming more and more capable of expressing hate.
As Larry Norman (Christian singer/songwriter) noted:
the Beatles sang “All You Need is Love” and then they broke up.
And that breakup turned into some real battles.

Or as Meatloaf noted one of his songs “I swore that I’d love you until the end of time.
But God only knows what I can do right now
I'm praying for the end of time
it’s all that I can do'

In our teens, we’re taught that the phrase we hated to hear was “I love you….as a friend”.
Today, we find it difficult to express ourselves to our friends and commit to them what we feel.

I love you.

We are scared to say it for so many reasons (and all of them wrong). Can’t say it man-to-man, can’t say it to any female but my wife/husband. Don’t want it misconstrued as something it isn’t.

Can we get past that teenage angst and say: I love you? As a friend, as a fellow human being, as a fellow traveler on this planet?

Do I have regrets? Many, but the one that haunts me most is and was failing to tell people I loved them, and now it’s too late.

The changing
Of sunlight
to moonlight
Reflections of my life
Oh how they fill my eyes
The greetings
Of people in trouble
Reflections of my life
Oh how they fill my eyes

Marmalade (Reflections of my life)

How you deal with it really isn’t my problem. My problem is only that I might miss the chance to tell you.
It’s okay if it is one way.

Hey. Friend. I love you.

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Facing the day.


I chanced upon an old newspaper we used to wrap some stuff in storage. Of course I stopped what I was doing and looked it over, amazed at the changes that have occurred over the years, the ads andwow, the prices!

Turning to the back, I tripped down memory lane. The Sunday Funnies. Comics I haven’t seen for a long time. Strips that my kids don’t recognize. And there, in the middle of the page, a character that I’d forgotten about yet have seen in reality most of my life.
Joe Btfsplk from Dogpatch USA.
Joe was the epitome of bad luck. A dark rain cloud over his head day and night, misfortune followed him everywhere he went and spilled over onto those he was near. I know people just like him.

I’ve noticed him more and more. We are becoming a society filled with negativity. Even when people try to find a way to rise above it, like the proverbial crab bucket the others grab them with claws of woe-is-me and drag them back down.

Over the past few months, I’ve seen both sides up close.
An acquaintance was diagnosed with cancer, a type that while incurable (to date); there are many options and treatments available, along with various changes in diet and some herbal/holistic remedies that offer at least a better quality of life. It’s still in a fairly early stage, so the outlook is measured in years, not months.

On the other hand, there is Nancy. Short term outlook is not good with very few options.

You know what’s coming.

The acquaintance is a miserable human being. The dark cloud grows larger with each day.

In contrast, I wake up to a warm smile and a cheerful good morning. Every day is filled with the joy of being alive. What is more amazing is each day is viewed as gift. Moments of complaining are just wasted minutes.

Why do we ignore the simple lessons of life? I know who I want to be around. I’ve found over the years that I love being around positive people. Oh, we complain about things, but usually the things we complain about were caused or caused by negative people.

I know a little of that ‘dark side’. I suffer from bouts of depression, and I hate it. But, like the old joke about the guy hitting himself in the head with the hammer (it feels so good when I stop) I’ve learned to embrace those infrequent bouts because I know when I get past them how good things really are.

And as I watch and listen to my wife each day, I’ve learned I still have a long way to go.

Each day I pray I can wrap myself in a positive attitude, for both of us. I truly believe that like old Joe, you can have the rain cloud, or with a change in attitude, you get the rainbow.

And at the end, the pot of gold.

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Today, I see the magic of what took place Tuesday night. Like it or not, it was a historic moment in our history. In the past year, those of us who tried to get past the rhetoric and garbage that usually mark a political campaign were able to see that barriers were being shattered.

Glass ceiling? They can say it was cracked but the truth is it has been broken. Now it is just a matter of the right person climbing on through. Race barrier? Knocked down and hopefully it will never be put back in place. Age? It was thrown in the mix the same as gender and race, and just like those supposed restraints, we knew in our hearts it wasn’t age but a slight risk of illness that was the real issue. I wish I had the stamina amd strength exhibited by Sen. McCain.

None of those so-called issues were a barrier to me. Back in the 70s, I got past so many issues and sometimes have trouble understanding people who still cling to them. I look around at the diverse group of friends I have and I realize how much I wish the world could be as loving and accepting.

The past months have caused me to do a lot of looking at myself. No matter how much I like to think I’ve read or talked about facing mortality, when you come face-to-face with it up close and personal, it makes you rethink everything you believe.

This election has been a major part of discussions in my home. For the first time, Nancy has been watching, reading, and learning not only about issues but about the individuals. Our children discuss politics and issues with us, and ask questions that have us running to the computer to Google because we realize we know less about the process than we thought we did.

But Tuesday night was when I came to realize that we’d been following this campaign as a sort of parallel to what we’ve been going through. For months, we’ve been bombarded with news of the ills of the world. On another historic front, our economy crashed and the term Global Market became a true reality. Friends and family were affected by the housing market nose-dive. Wars, rumors of wars, and the terrible costs were a daily factor in the mix of campaign promises. Budgets of states, counties and cities were being decimated and like rain, ice and freezing temperatures can destroy a roadway, slashed funding can leave us with giant potholes in the infrastructure of our country.

I think about my life and many of the things that molded and shaped me into the being I am today. As I reflect on why I chose to vote the way I did, I come to the cold realization that even though many of the promises (or lies) were a part of my decision making process, the moment I entered the voting booth those were not the reason I voted like I did.

Experience taught me long ago that campaign promises are usually broken, that there is no magic wand to solve the ills and problems, that if it was really as simple and easy as putting a person in office, we wouldn’t be in the shape we are in today.

Like millions of others, I don’t think I voted because I thought my candidate would actually fix all of this.

I voted the way I did because for the first time in years I was tired of fear.

Today, the world isn’t better, the sun isn’t brighter, the birds don’t sing any sweeter. And I’ll still be scared at times and I’ll fret and fume and verbally flail at what I don’t understand.

But I’ll not give in to fear.

Today, I cling to hope. Be it physical, mental or spiritual, I cast my vote. And from the reaction around the world, it seems millions share that hope, maybe in a different way but for right now, we share hope.

Do we truly have the power of positive thinking?

I think we have the chance to find out.

Today, as an individual, I’ll give it a try.

After all, what have I got to lose?

In my fellow man, in eternity, in God.

I vote hope.

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Way back when, in a time when we were all Americans, I remember a cold but beautiful November day my father took me to a parade. We were living in Latrobe PA at the time and I was probably five years old. This was a time when people lined the streets and cheered the Veterans as they marched down Main Street.

There was large stage on one side of the street, with banners and bunting of red, white and blue. A dozen or so stiff wooden chairs were set in line down the back of the stage, and the men who sat in them were also decorated, the uniforms and ribbons crisp and sharp in the morning light.

While the parade was in honor of all veterans, these were the men who no longer could march, the ones who’d fought the good fight and paid a price.

My father joined in the parade while I stood near the stage, a vantage point given to me because of my father’s volunteer work with the local veterans group. I watched as one of the men on the stage began to cry, and his fellow soldiers each placed a hand on his shoulder to comfort him.

Years later, I sat and watched as the parade came to my home. Friends gathered and honored us by marching through our house. Sort of an interior home-makeover. All the pictures we always intended on hanging were now positioned along the stairway, and oil paintings were placed with care on the walls.

Furniture rearranged to the proper places, with accents and accessories highlighting them, giving the room that decorator touch. A little cleaning, a little polishing, the parade spilled out into the yard as our neighbors spruced up the entryway by redoing the planters, adding a touch of color for the fall. Landon and Laura put a fresh coat of stain on the front door, bringing it back from the dull, weather worn look.

Mr. Sun blessed us on the November day, and the parade was wonderful. Later that evening, as Nancy and I walked through the house admiring each and every thing, I saw the glimmer of tears in her eyes. I knew she was happy, which certainly filled my heart.

Later, in the stillness of the night, I realized the only sound I heard was her soft breathing.

For the first time in days, there was absolutely no sound of the dragon’s wings. For the first time in days, the tears were tears of joy. Instead of sadness, my heart was full of love.

I sat in the darkness and held her hand, giving thanks that she saw the transformation and magic that happened and that she could not only be honored by the parade, but also witnessed that it was a token of love given by our extended family.

And that, my friends, is priceless.

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My wife is dying. There. I said it. We both know it is true. The cancer has returned and the facts are there. Medical science and statistics offer little hope for us. A second round of chemo is scheduled, but the odds are not good, a jumble of numbers that we try to manipulate to fit what our hearts desire.

The looming question that no one has an answer: how long?

Not long enough. It can never be enough. We decide to face it as it is, way too short.

Scrambling to do things. I search websites for information. “Tie up loose ends” is a common theme.
We start a list. Paperwork, taxes, bills. Stuff she has always done and now I need a crash course in how her system works. My mind keeps going in a different direction (part of denial) and I struggle to understand.

No matter what we do, I hear the clock ticking.

As she wears down and goes for a nap, I seek refuge and solace from friends.

The title of a Douglas Adams book is all I can think of to describe this moment.

The Long Dark Tea-Time of the Soul.

What you want and what things are can be such totally different things.
I want to spend every waking moment just drinking her in. Walking, talking, sharing memories, holding her hand and once again expressing my love for her.

Instead, we talk about when the credit card bill is due and how online payments work.

Her steady, logical, analytical and practical mind sees the checklist. She doesn’t want me left with things undone.
I want to hop a plane to the Bahamas, make a mad dash out fishing, stroll along the beach and watch the sunset, then maybe fly to Paris, stroll along under the Arc de Triomphe

Go, see, do, enjoy.

Instead, we prepare for tomorrow when we tackle the past due taxes and more paperwork.
**

Her favorite movie is The Big Chill. I can hear her singing with the soundtrack,

You can’t always get what you want, but if you try sometime, you just might find, you get what you need.

It’s 4 a.m.

I hold her hand as she sleeps. She rests quietly.
Right now, I have what I need.

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