Happy New Year!

We wish everyone a very happy and prosperous New Year. Thank you for following our blog this past year and for the many comments that you have shared with us. We look forward to sharing our thoughts with you in 2011, as bizarre as they may seem at times.

Cheers!

Holiday travel

"Are we almost there yet?"

"I'm hungry."

"Can I take my seatbelt off?"

"I'm hungry."

"Why aren't we moving?"

"I'm hungry."

"How much longer?"

"I'm hungry."

"I have to go to the bathroom!"

"My stomach doesn't feel good."

Oh the joys of holiday travel on the road. I guess that's why we fly so much now, or do we? Perhaps your flight plans that looked so good a month ago, suddenly changed in the middle of your Christmas break. Did what was going to be a leisurely two hour plane ride turn out to be a two day nightmare? Did you find yourself sitting in an airport with hundreds of other stranded passengers all who had someplace to go and no way to get there? How about that scramble for a rental car to drive home? Did you make it? Are Planes Trains and Automobiles, or Christmas Vacation still on your Facebook favorite movies list?

Now the big question. Where will you go next Christmas?

Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!

And the angel said unto them, Fear not: for behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy, which shall be a sign to all people. For unto you is born this day in the city of David a Saviour, which is Chirst the Lord. -Luke 2:10-11

Secrets

So what's your Christmas secret? Have you been naughty or nice, or have you been nice and naughty? What are you hiding? We often have trouble keeping secrets from each other so we begin our Christmas shopping about two weeks ahead of time. Hiding stuff is just too tough. Other people manage to shop all year never revealing what they bought until Christmas Day.

It is no secret that advertising messages at Christmas are so enticing and so overwhelming, yet, we fall for them every year. It's the one time of year when we cast the budget aside to buy an extraordinary amount of gifts for those we love. It's a festive time of parties, lunches, and dinners. Other than retail, most businesses operate in neutral from a few days before Christmas until the new year begins about a week later.

For millions of people around the world, Christmas is an opportunity to celebrate the birth of Jesus, born in secret two thousand years ago in Bethlehem. More and more people today openly share their faith in Jesus Christ while others keep their faith a secret. But whatever secrets you chose to share this year at Christmas, I trust you will either take the opportunity to share Jesus Christ with someone, or if someone chooses to share that secret with you, please listen. It could mean the opportunity of a lifetime, or more.

Please have a wonderful day of celebration, and feel free to share the real secret of Christmas.



Big city lights

It's Christmas time in the city. While we love our peaceful life in the country, we are privileged to live close enough to New York City, so replete with iconic images of Christmas, that we can sneak in and see lights on a massive scale. Sure, we all have our Christmas trees, candles in the windows, lights in the bushes, on the fence or outlining a house, but New York just seems to do it up big, as only New York could. From the top of the Empire State Building to Macy’s Broadway marquis and an eleven story cascade of lights, there’s nothing like the city at Christmas.

It seems New York is unscathed by  controversies about public displays of lights with Christmas themes that seem to plague so many small towns. Some towns are open and festive about Christmas, but others have no public displays and don’t even put candles in the windows of private homes. One thing is for sure, they certainly celebrate with gifts and parties.

What about you? What’s your preference? The big city bedecked in millions of lights and decorations, the peaceful small town with a candle in every window and a tree on the town square wrapped in holiday lights, or the town that celebrates the birth of Christ behind closed doors with the drapes pulled?

Gift wrapping

Wrapping gifts really should be easy. A little paper, a little ribbon, and a little girl . . . oh, wait a minute, maybe it isn't so easy. "But she's having so much fun," you say, as you watch about ten dollars in ribbon go up in knots.

Seriously, is your shopping done? Are the gifts wrapped? Are you ready for the Christmas morning rush, or are you still rushing around? Have you gone exploring around your house to find out what you're getting, or are you exploring because you don't remember where you hid someone's gift? Perhaps you've been intercepting email confirmation notices from online catalogs.

We have one simple rule in our house, if you find out what you're getting ahead of time, you don't get it. It just reinforces the concept that Christmas is about giving, not getting.

Load limit

Okay so now our Christmas tree is in a bucket of water in our living room. All day Saturday and Sunday we opened what seemed like a moving van of Rubbermaid storage boxes full of every ornament that we have inherited, bought, made or been given over the past forty years. Some brought back memories of school Christmas ornament projects. That is when kids were allowed to mention Christmas in school.

Other ornaments have hung on our tree ever since I was a kid. Remember the bubble lights from the fifties? We look at them each year, but they are now a bigger fire hazard than candles, so we leave them in the box. We have acorns that look like Santa and clothes pins that look like airplanes. One year we even melted plastic wine glasses in our oven and watched them morph into unpredictable shapes and hung them on the tree.

So how many ornaments can a Christmas tree branch hold? I think you measure it in years and in memories. Somehow the branches, like us, bear the load, no matter how much we make them carry. We just keep watering the tree to give it strength, then sit back and watch our memories glitter in the lights. New Year’s Day, we’ll take it down, repack the ornaments, and haul the boxes back to the attic until next Christmas, along with a few more ornaments that we picked up along the way this year, to add to the memories next year.

Have you caught your Christmas tree yet?

It’s that time of the yet year again when all of us Paul Bunyan wannabes troop off to our favorite Christmas tree farm with our pruning saws to cut down the perfect tree and haul it down the mountain like a fresh deer carcass. We pay the owner for the privilege of wandering through his property to cut down one of his trees, bind it in a fish net, and then tie it down to the roof of our car so it won’t get away, and that’s only the beginning.

If we drove around town any other time of the year with a ten foot tree wrapped in a fishnet strapped to the top of our car, people would think we were nuts, but not in December, at least in the first three weeks, anyway.

Next we haul the tree into our living room and “replant” it into a bucket of water, as if it were a bunch of freshly cut flowers in spring. But this is a tree, not a dozen roses. Next, we put about a thousand or more lights on it, hundreds of ornaments, popcorn, paper, tinsel and a host of other glittering things.

Next we plug in the lights. The tree takes on a whole new life, and the Christmas season is officially underway. The whole tree thing seems so weird when we parse it down to its individual parts, but when it’s done, and we see all the ornaments, the decorations and of course, the star on top, reflect the sparkle of the lights, we begin to understand the beauty of Christmas.

But deeper than that, is the real beauty that so many of us appreciate, the birth of Jesus, savior of the world. Regardless of what your own personal faith may be, it was an event that is recognized and celebrated throughout so much of the world at this time of year. We trust you will sit back and appreciate Christmas for what it represents as you take in the beauty of the tree in your home over the next few weeks.

Winter adventure

Winter is always an adventure, especially on unpaved back roads. We have a lot of signs like this in Connecticut. Some people turn around and go the other way, but others look at it as an adventure. No snowplows, or salt trucks, just cross country skiers, dog sleds, and people looking for an adventure. It's the same road that we have walked down in spring, summer and fall, but now the landmarks are slowly disappearing under a blanket of white snow. Fences, rocks, trees, bushes, ruts and a host of other things that we use to identify where we are on our journey are suddenly gone. How adventurous are you now? Do you keep going to see what’s ahead?

As we get older, the landmarks of our past gradually disappear. Oh sure, like the stumps, rocks and trees we remember major events in our lives but as we get further into our adventure, the details, like the pebbles in the road, disappear. Yes, there were some rough spots in the road that we didn’t see coming, but they are behind us, and the only way to avoid getting tripped up again is to move ahead.

Now, what do you do when you come to a fork in the road? Do you take the road with the least amount of snow, the most visible obstacles, or are you an adventurous risk taker that chooses the one with the most snow and deal with the unforeseen challenges as they surface? Do you keep moving forward or do you turn around and go back to a safe place to sit and wait for the snow to melt?

Personally, I prefer the adventure and the challenges that lie ahead. I have found that when you go back to sit and wait for the “snow to melt,” it’s always harder to get up and move forward, again. How about you?

Is there any mail for me?

Now that Thanksgiving is over, we have begun that time of year when we hear from everyone we haven’t heard from since Christmas last year. Of course, many of them haven’t heard from us either. Some just send a card and others send thousand word letters in micro-sized type, as long as it fits on both sides of a piece of paper. Some people we look forward to hearing from because they have such interesting lives and others prefer not to write anything except “Merry Christmas,” and that’s okay too,  . . . really.

Then there’s the get-a-card send-a-card group that will only send you a card if you send them one. But wait a minute, I think we do that in hopes that they will think they were on our list all the time and we were a little late sending them out this year. As long as they get them by December 24, it works, but when your card arrives the day after New Year's, it looks a little suspicious.

I remember my mother kept an address book for Christmas cards only. She would send out cards to those who sent her cards the year before, along with “favored” new people that she met during the year. If she didn’t get a card from a person two years in a row, they were scratched off her list never to get a card again.

Now, what about you? Are you a Christmas card letter writer or do you count on Hallmark to say the right thing? Are you excited to hear from distant friends once a year or do you groan as you cut open their envelopes stuffed with pictures and a journal for the past year? Maybe it’s time for a bigger mailbox.

Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving was originally a harvest festival to give thanks for a bountiful harvest. So, I guess it’s only fitting that it has since evolved into an all-encompassing holiday of thanks. Regardless of one’s economic situation, our nation has been blessed beyond measure, especially when put in perspective with other nations.

I hope you join us this Thanksgiving as we sit back with family and count our blessings. Lift your hands and praise God from whom all blessings flow.

Yikes, Thanksgiving already?

So, how late is your grocery store open the night before Thanksgiving? Do you keep your supermarket’s telephone number on the refrigerator? Have you ever bought your frozen turkey the day before Thanksgiving and spent all night running hot water through it from stem to stern to thaw it out?

I asked the butcher last week when he would have fresh turkeys. He said the ideal time to get the best and biggest fresh turkey is late Friday night or early Saturday. He said people buy the frozen birds the week before Thanksgiving, take them home and thaw them out Monday and Tuesday. The smart shoppers buy the fresh, unfrozen turkeys over the weekend. Monday and Tuesday, panic sets in as the last minute shoppers realize there is no time to thaw out a frozen turkey and the fresh ones are gone. The only birds left are the small ones about twice the weight of a capon.

I spent Friday night throwing out the green science experiments growing in the back of the refrigerator and reconfiguring the shelves in preparation for Saturday morning’s fresh turkey. The turkey girl at our local Stop 'n Shop had to go into the chiller to look for the biggest one they had. Ten minutes later she came out with a 24 pound fresh monster turkey. I’m just glad I didn’t have to wrestle it to the ground before it got to the store.

I spent another hour at the store today getting the rest of the feast, but I know I’ll be back late Wednesday to get a can of cranberry sauce, or an extra bag of bread crumbs for dressing. Yes, I do have Stop 'n Shop’s number on speed dial.

The eyes have it.

No matter how old or how young, our eyes say so much even when we say so little. When we focus on people's eyes, we can tell how they think and how they develop thoughts. We can also see evidence of fatigue, stress, sickness, malnutrition, fear, sorrow, joy, restlessness, truthfulness, confidence. We know when someone is working too long with too little sleep. We often "read" a person's eyes to determine if they are telling the truth or not.

This little girl followed me around Teupasenti, Honduras, for a couple of days. She didn't have a bike and I never saw a doll or a toy, just her parrot. They went everywhere together and you can tell by her eyes, that it was the joy of her life. In fact that's all she had, and yet she was so happy. Her little brother often tagged along, but he just watched anticipating the day when he could have a pet of his own.

Uncle Sam salutes our veterans

Uncle Sam rode by today just to say thanks for serving. Yes, it's Veteran's Day, a day set aside to remember our nation's veterans who served in war and peace, and especially those who gave their lives for our freedom. Some of us have fond memories of events that took place while serving, yet others are daily reminded of the horrors they faced.

I guess what I find most disturbing is the small group of Americans who fail to understand, or appreciate, the mindset of those who volunteer to make themselves available to defend our freedoms, even to the point of death. They publically petition, protest, complain and even berate our military in the streets, yet it's that very right that we are proudly defending.

I hope you will take the opportunity today to join Uncle Sam and thank an active duty soldier or veteran today for their commitment and service.

Texture

The more I look at this image, the more I see. To some it may be a simple doormat with a dead leaf, but look again.

First, I was attracted to the repeating pattern found in the weave of the doormat. No matter how many feet have stepped on it, the pattern has remained unbroken. After clean feet, dirty feet, light feet, or heavy feet, the mat is consistent, strong, even and unyielding. Each knot in the weave grips the knot next to it to help carry the load. To me, it’s like a network of friends that look out for each other and help carry each other’s burdens. They stick together no matter what, and nothing can break them apart.

But then there is the leaf. It sprouted in the spring and hung on a tree through rain, hail, wind, and scorching sun. In October, the temperature dropped and so did the leaf, alone. Unlike the doormat, it fell apart. It was alone and unprotected, dried up and brittle. Yet, just off the grid, there’s a small seed that survived, a sign of life, a new generation.

Election Day

Here's a little reminder about how easy the voting process was in colonial times. There were no voting machines, no hanging-chad punch cards, no electronic ballot readers or scanners, and no programmable entry devices. Voting was as simple as putting a mark beside someone's name.

When I voted today, I was handed a ballot the size of a spread sheet with nine parties listed down the left side, four of which were totally new to me. But that was okay as some candidates were running with more than one party endorsement, anyway.

I picked up the felt tipped pen in the booth and followed the instructions, "Be sure to completely fill-in the oval next to the candidate of your choice." I felt like I was taking the SATs back in high school as I "completely" colored in the little oval next to each candidate's name so a machine could read it. Like the SATs, I colored in one row all the way across the ballot. Yes, I voted a party line, and one I had heard of before, too. While it didn't do much for me on my SATs, I hope I score better on today's ballot.

Got it, thanks.

This is the best we could do today. It’s cold and flu season and we are right in season. I got the cold first and generously shared it with Lois. One of the good things about getting it first is that Lois sets the bar for how I will take care of her when it’s her turn. If she sets it high, then I’m obligated to pamper her when she gets it. Low, then it’s my choice, but after forty years of marriage, I’ve learned the consequences of making the wrong choice.

Like most couples, we each have our own respective cures. She goes for the Tylenol & tea combo, and I break out my “magic” pills. I brought 100 of them back from Thailand where they wiped out a real nasty cold in two days. She tried them once and they wiped her out instead of the cold. They are amazing and available from your local pharmacist in Thailand, China, and I guess anywhere in Asia. I figure I can get about six more colds before I have to go back and get some more.

In the meantime, we keep our faces covered and lay low waiting for it to pass.

The Shadow knows

"Only the shadow knows what evil lurks in the hearts of men," was the opening line to The Shadow radio show that began in 1930. He was a dauntless crime fighter who never let himself be seen, only heard. At the end of every show, The Shadow would say, “The weed of every crime bears bitter fruit. Crime does not pay . . . The Shadow knows.”

I’m often attracted by the shape of shadows on a surface. Shadows have a unique way of taking on the shape of the surface while at the same time retaining the shape of the object. Shadows can heighten our anticipation of a pending crime in film and television and at the same time provide hours of entertainment for a kitten. They can evoke a sense of comfort when we talk about being in the shadow of someone's protection. Shadows can make us look taller, shorter, thinner and wider. They mimic our every move and are totally dependent on us for life and movement.

In many respects shadows are like people. When we are doing something that we shouldn’t, we try to hide it “in the shadows.” We avoid being exposed by the light, preferring to lurk in the darkness. We retain our identity and our shape, yet at the same time, we take on the shape of whatever else lurks in the shadows. Other times, we follow in the shadow of a mentor, blending in with the surface only to be exposed to light, when we are ready. As for me, I prefer the light, leaving the shadows way behind.

So what's your hang-up?

"Hang-ups" are a procrastinator's favorite tool. For example, I've had so many "hang-ups" during the past week, that I just haven't taken the time to put up a new blog image. Every time I sat down at the keyboard, I would begin to think about something else. I would get hung-up, or distracted, and like this knot of ubiquitous plastic hangers, whenever I would try to pull one out, it would only get caught on the next distraction.

While some hang-ups are fun as they delay us in what we should be doing, other hang-ups are downright annoying. How often have you started to clean out the garage only to find about ten things that you put out there over the past year to repair? Do you follow the distraction and begin repairing everything, or do you stay focused on cleaning the garage? It seems every task leads to more and more tasks because of something we didn't do when we should have.

Some would say, "The best way to not get hung-up on anything is to not do anything," but then you're stuck with a never ending knot of hangers. So stay focused and finish the job. It will make life so much easier.

White birch memories

During the summer months in New England, many people put candles, pictures, figurines, or some other decorative item in their fireplaces until the cold returns in the fall and it’s time to bring in the logs and settle down to a warm fire.

On one of our trips back to New England, after my parents relocated from Rhode Island to Cleveland, we brought back three white birch logs to put in our fireplace each summer. It was emotional comfort for mom and dad as they reminded them of the beauty of New England, but the logs never saw the light or felt the heat of a match. They were just decoration. Each fall, it was my job to carefully wrap the “sacred” logs and put them back in the attic so we could use the fireplace. As I recall, my parents even planted a white birch sapling in our yard when I was a young tree climber. Unfortunately, it was too young to survive my climbing, and I was too young to know better.

A few years after we were married, we bought my parent’s house, and yes, the “sacred” birch logs were included. They were considerably lighter in weight than I had remembered, but they had long dried out, and in our last winter in that house, we found they didn’t burn well, either.

He went that way!

Have you ever tried to "read" a child's face? Have you wondered how a baby interprets what we look like or what we are doing before they can form a word?

When I see a face like this, I guess I put myself, as a kid, in his place. "I didn't do it Mom, he did it!" "There he goes, Mrs. Jones, the kid who rode his bike through your petunias." "I didn't knock over your outhouse, Mr. Whipple, those kids running down the street did." The words are all there, but we need to see the face to complete the communication.

In business, we so often we hide behind our emails, voice and text messages, tweets, and conference calls to communicate yet, more than seventy percent of us communicate best visually. That's why face-to-face meetings are so important in business, especially first time meetings. We add so much to our words with our gestures and expressions, the language of our body.

Fall already?

What happened to September and July? Last week went by so fast, I didn’t even get a blog post up. I think I remember August, but here it is fall already, definitely the shortest season of the year. The rains come, temperatures drop, and the leaves throughout New England change from green to yellow, red, and finally, brown. While we all like to photograph the broad sweeps of color across the mountains, down the country roads, and reflecting in the lakes and ponds, somehow it’s hard to capture the beauty of the moment.

Like snowflakes and people, every leaf is different. They are different in size, color and shape, so move in close and capture the detail and the beauty of each leaf, while it lasts. The snow will be here before we know it.

A helping hand

Helpings hands are everywhere. All one has to do is ask. Maybe it seems old fashioned, but there are situations where it’s just a nice thing to do. Sure, this lady has been crossing streets all her life, but this day she just needed the confidence of a strong helping hand to get her across.

So, who needs your help today? It’s nice to have a friend and even nicer to make a new one.

Fall

As of 11:05 p.m. today, it will be fall. Summer will officially be over and the earth's axis will begin to tilt in the opposite direction. As we look ahead, we know that our leaves will turn various shades of yellow and red depending on the weather, before falling to the ground. It has happened every year since there were trees on this earth. Yes, it's consistent, it's reliable and we can count on it year after year.

But what about everything else? Summer whizzed by so fast that we missed July and most of August. I mean, it is September 22, already. Time is moving so fast, we don't have time to think about what's ahead. Maybe it's time to stop and give some thought as to what is down the road. The leaves are falling, the path is getting less and less clear. Where does that road lead? What's in the woods ahead? Is it safe to move on, to take that walk? Who's going with me, or am I on this road all alone?

Perhaps I should sit tight and wait for spring to arrive with new growth and a fresh outlook. After all, seasons are reliable. They come every year, whether we are ready for them or not.

Help wanted

Wow! When was the last time you saw a help wanted sign in a business window? With unemployment running so high for so long, even "help wanted" signs are as hard to find as jobs and have to be hand drawn. In fact, the turnover of preprinted help wanted signs typically found in my local office supply superstore has been so slow that I don't think it even carries them anymore.

Politicians follow party lines when it comes to voting on economic issues while trying to appease dissatisfied constituents when they are home. So, what's the answer? What will it take to get more help wanted signs in our windows and our office superstores? And, most importantly, when?

Impish grin

An impish grin is the same in any language, any culture, and any economic climate. I think it is a special treat to photograph kids in a third world environment who otherwise have nothing except an unpretentious inner sense of mischief that shows in their face. They have a certain unmasked innocence that just makes their whole face light up. Of course, the closer I get, the bigger the grin.

September 11, 2001

There is nothing to say that hasn't been said before . . . just remember.

Peer pressure.

Three teenage boys and all those girls waiting, listening, wondering who will go first. The barker makes his pitch and singles out one boy and challenges him to take a chance. “Two wins and any stuffed animal is your’s,” he says.

The boy knows if he wins, he’s a hero and if he doesn’t, he’s a zero. Is it worth the risk? “Maybe John or Bob will do it, first,” he thinks. “Why is he pointing at me? I can feel everyone looking at me and waiting.”

How about you? Did you respond to a “barker” this week? Did you let peer pressure wear you down and make you cross that line? Were you a hero? Did you win the stuffed animal? Did you ever think that there might be a better prize if you really thought about the consequences and didn’t take the bait?

Rush hour traffic

Rush hour is one of those terms that comedian George Carlin struggled with. “What’s so rush about rush hour, a person can’t move?" he would ask.  Interstate highways in our more populated urban areas become a log-jam of commuters going to or from work all within an hour of each other, regardless of how many lanes there are.

Trust me, no matter where one goes in the world, it seems there is a rush hour of some sort. We drove up and down this road several times one day in Hounduras, but as we were going back to our hotel in the afternoon rush hour, we found ourselves staring up the notrils of a herd of cattle. It seems that no one explained basic highway etiquette to them or the importance of rest stops.

So, next time you are sitting in a rush hour parking lot, take out your camera or iphone and start shooting. Some of our favorite images were taken out of our sunroof when we were stuck in traffic.

Security

We often say, “There is safety in numbers,” and in this case it’s about 250 pounds of muscle stuffed into a white tank top. I didn’t get close enough to ask him to show me the tattoo on his back or what he was carrying in his bag.

Despite his size, I couldn’t help but notice his gentle touch as the little girl wrapped her whole hand around his little finger. I imagine that’s the real story of their relationship. I think any dad with a daughter will attest to that.

A boy’s real best friend

Boys are boys no matter where they live in the world. This little Honduran boy kept getting pushed aside by other kids who wanted to be photographed with their friends. After a few pictures of the group, I said, “Gracias,” and put the camera down. They all left except him. After all, it was his donkey, not theirs.

I think his little grin was one of satisfaction. He knew if he put up with the bullying long enough, everyone would eventually leave, and they did. Finally, he was on stage all alone. We communicated with each other in a nonverbal sort of way. He had just heard me speak all the Spanish I knew, yet there was still a connection. I’m not sure what it was, but based on his quirky little “gotcha” grin, he had outsmarted the big kids once again.

Tattoos

When I was in the Navy, a lot of my crewmembers would get tattoos that said, “I love Lucy,” or whatever their girlfriend’s name was when they left port. A permanent inscription was a commitment that he would remain true to her while on a seven month cruise to the Mediterranean. Unfortunately, upon returning, his or her commitment had waned and he would have to find another “true love” with the same first name or have one name removed and another name etched into his arm.

Over the years, I have watched tattoos change from messages of love and commitment to messages, fine art, and personal expression. I found this lady taking a break from a long day of riding her Harley with a bunch of friends in upstate New York. Because she was probably tougher than me, I first complemented her on her tattoos and then I asked if I could photograph her. She was eager to oblige, and I was just as eager to do it, quickly. I’m sure she had plenty more that I couldn’t see, but I wasn’t about to find out where.

Someone’s Grandma

Dignity and pride do not necessarily mean a person is successful and wealthy. This elderly Honduran woman just caught my attention. Yes, her face is worn from many years of hard work and hot sun but I couldn’t help but be drawn in by her demeanor. She was a symbol of dignity and elegance, a picture of hope in a third world community that seems to have so little hope. Her glasses accentuated her look. Her dress was impeccably clean without any wrinkles or stains. She never smiled or broke character.

She just turned her head and looked at me as if we had met many times before. It was like meeting my grandmother whom I never really knew.

Dad's wheels.

It is so hard for me to relate to these kids economically. They have nothing. But the look on their faces is priceless. We can identify with the look but not with the location. The bike is their “Corvette” or their “Audi.” We live in a culture of planes, trains and automobiles. They live in a culture of donkeys, bikes and Mopeds. The skies are as silent as our skies the week after 9/11. There are no trains and they stare at cars like we stare at a Rolls Royce.

We wonder how they can be so happy when they are so poor. We compare their culture with our own and wonder how they can even exist. They have no running water, maybe a light bulb, and no indoor plumbing. The world has developed around them and no one let them in on the plan, yet they survive and move on. They dream of a better life, a day when they will be grown up and have a bike just like dad’s, a bike with thirty speeds so they can zip around town and not have to walk barefoot in the streets like everyone else.

In our culture, it seems that we never have enough because there is so much to have, so many “Joneses” to keep up with. For me, the culture shock is not the third world nation that I’m visiting. Instead, it’s coming home and realizing how blessed we are to live in this nation, regardless of what the Joneses think.

Family stars

A week ago, we went to the first major family reunion of my wife's ancestors on her Dad's side. One of her cousins has traced the genealogy back to 1687 and has chronicled all the births, marriages, and deaths of every descendent right to our latest granddaughter born June 28 this year. In total there are more than 10,000 descendents of Christian and Anna Myer of Saugerties, Ulster, New York, listed in the 200 page document.

I think in every family, there are a variety of personalities and issues that often impact its cohesiveness. For some, they become a stumbling block, but for others, they are a unifying factor. Lois's Dad and his cousin Barbara, played together as children, but as they grew older and their own families grew, they seldom saw each other. Now well into their eighties, they are the last of their generation and were able to sit under the stars and talk about all the "remember whens."

I have about fifteen cousins, but I probably could only find one if I looked hard enough. It's very special to see our grandchildren get together as cousins now, and I can't help but wonder if they will be the "family stars" at another family reunion eighty years from now.

Spectators

One thing we often forget about entertainers is that they are just as entertained by us as we are them. Instead of us watching them, they become spectators. These very talented Honduran dancers were watching all the other evening entertainment from across the courtyard before it was their turn to perform.

In many respects we do the same thing every day. As spectators, we look at other people and wonder what kind of "dance" they did to get to where they are. We may look at their family, their position in business or the community, their house, their car, and in general all their stuff. We forget that regardless of who they are, or where they are in life, they are still people just like us. Perhaps, they are looking at us and wondering how they can get to where we are. Maybe our role models are not the models we expected them to be, but then what kind of role model are we?

Just say, "No!"

Remember when your parents said, “How many times do I have to tell you no, no, no!” I often wonder if we would have gotten the point if they had little circular flashcards to hold up with the picture of what we wanted to do (or in my case were already doing) with a line drawn through indicating “no.” There would be no need to explain and certainly no arguments. After all, a picture is worth a thousand words. What could be plainer?

For example, before you go into your friendly neighborhood bank in Tegucigalpa, Honduras, to make a deposit, or cash a check, you are reminded immediately that no sunglasses or cell phones are allowed, and there is no smoking and no guns permitted in the bank. There is no need to explain and certainly no room to argue. And if that were not enough, the armed security guard waves his magic metal detector wand over everyone that wants to enter before he opens the door.

I guess in the U.S., the gun restriction is taken for granted, but in Honduras, I wonder what the security guard at Wendy’s across the street does with his twelve gauge shotgun when he runs over on break to cash his paycheck.

Community Cable

Does this look familiar? One person pays and everybody plays. Once the cable TV junction box is open, it’s fair game at this apartment. Just climb out on the roof and plug in. Cable companies get a bad rap sometimes for their poor service and justifiably so. I wonder who calls for service if this cable goes out.

The cable company in our area actually has the word “communications” in its name. Unfortunately the prefix “mis” is missing. When I had an overcharging issue with this cable company, I went to their customer service office rather than calling India, again, and spoke loudly enough in the waiting room to get quickly escorted behind closed doors to the credit manager. He promptly took care of the problem and gave me his direct line in case there were any more questions. I asked him about those “memos” written by their customer service reps in India, and he said, “Oh, we get thousands of those and don’t begin to read them all.“

While I am not an advocate of “cable tapping,” to some an open box is open game.

Marlboro Man

The Marlboro Man, 45 year icon of masculinity, is alive and well in Central America. At least it sure looks like him.

I found him in Teupasenti, Honduras, this week just standing outside his house two hours from the nearest paved road. Horses and donkeys roamed freely in the streets and most houses have at least one light. Every street was rutted from daily torrential rains that dropped several inches of water in an hour or so. Some ruts looked like earthquake fault lines several feet deep, but no one seems to mind, and if they did, there's not much anyone could do.

There is a weather-worn sense of pride and confidence in his face. He never spoke while I was photographing him. He just stared, but there was a glint in his eye that, despite the abject poverty all around him, he was the Teupasenti's Marlboro Man without his horse or his cigarette.

 

Book interrupted

Hey! What are you reading?

Don’t you love it when you are deeply engrossed in a book and someone looks over your shoulder and starts reading, or worse yet, starts talking. “What are you reading?” “You’re only on page 132?” “Wait until you get to chapter 8, you won’t believe what happens!” “I read that book on the plane last week, and it really shook me up when all the main characters die in a plane crash in the last chapter.”

So, now that I have your attention, what are you reading, anyway?

Window watcher

I once worked for an interior designer whose favorite expression was, “Simplicity is the essence of design.” I guess that’s what attracted me to this window. It’s a simple, 125 year old window on the side of historic Meeker Hardware, in Danbury, CT. The simple white shutters are fastened to the wall ready to be closed in case of a bad storm, or even a hurricane.

It’s a window that has witnessed the evolution of transportation as generations of customers loaded saddlebags, bikes, wagons, cars and pickup trucks over the course of its life. The once busy railroad station, across the street is now a railway museum, doing its best to preserve the dignity of a bygone era. Yet the simple window never changes. It just watches everything else change.

My idyllic setting

Idyllic settings are peaceful and never change. They are simple places, relaxing, totally out of the mainstream of our daily activity. For me, an idyllic setting is represented by some Adirondack chairs beside a peaceful pond in the middle of nowhere. It represents a place where I can get away and relax anytime.

So what did you do on your vacation this year? How did you get away and relax? Cruises, safaris, theme parks, casinos, getaway resorts, and island hideaways all vie for our vacation dollars and time. If you’re like us, we’ve tried a few and enjoyed them. Sometimes we have wondered how cool it would be to stay at a venue for the rest of our lives. Then reality hits, the vacation is over and we return to our daily routine for another year.

How about you? Where is your idyllic getaway? Is it a real place, or are you still searching?

Today's weather.

Holy cow! It was just too hot for words today.

Doin’ the dishes

I hate to do the dishes, but everywhere I look I see dishes-dirty, messy, dishes. But wait a minute, which generation are we in? After all, thirty years ago, most of our dishes were in the kitchen either in the sink waiting to be washed, drying on the counter, or perhaps in the cupboard patiently waiting to be used again.

Today we see “dishes” everywhere. They are on our rooftops, porches, and brackets mounted to the side of our houses. They have opened a whole new world of entertainment and enlightenment to us. Like television antennas in the fifties, every house has to have one whether they are connected or not. We see them on palaces, million-dollar mansions, tenement buildings, suburban dwellings, and even in remote jungle villages. Unlike the dishes of just one generation ago, our lives have been transformed by high tech dishes that will no doubt remain a significant part of our lives.

Just remember next time someone asks you to wash the dishes, think twice before you respond.

Sunbeams

Wow! Everyday should start like this. There is just something mystical, or heavenly, about the way the early morning sun bursts through the trees in our front yard and penetrates the morning mist. You just know it's going to be not just a great day, but a significant day.

As I look at it, I'm reminded of so many key historic events that focus on the glory of God. Perhaps Moses is getting ready to come off the mountain with the ten commandments, or Elijah just ascended into heaven. Maybe Mary & Martha saw light like this in the garden as they approached the tomb on Easter morning, or is it like the light that blinded Paul on the Damascus road? Spectacular light, reminds us of significant events.

What does it say to you?   What lights up your life?  Think about it,  . . . let us know.

Take a break!

No matter what hill you’re climbing or how steep it is, sometimes you just need to take a break so you don’t burn out. Whether it’s a few minutes, an hour, a weekend or a vacation, we all need to sit down once in a while to take a break and gather our thoughts. For many people, it’s a week off in August before the rush of fall.

We hit our pause button every Sunday. In fact, as hard as it is, we don’t even pick up a camera on Sunday or check our email. We just relax, count our blessings, and get ready to resume our upward journey on Monday.

If doors could talk

If only old doors and door handles like this one could talk. After being pulled by more than six generations of calloused hard-working hands of carpenters, plumbers, mechanics, and handymen, the once beautiful curved brass handle on the front door of Meeker Hardware in Danbury, CT, is showing signs of fatigue. Who knows how many coats of paint are on the 125 year old door.

The handle and the door remind me of people. No matter how attractive and useful we might have thought we were at one point, eventually, our parts begin to shift and perhaps we aren’t as strong or agile as we once were. But underneath, there’s still a classic beauty and a sense of dignity that we now call “elegant.”

Like the door, we have a few more cracks and chips than we had before and we have some wear marks that have surfaced. I guess the door’s age makes it easier to accept pink and gray paint for a traditionally machismo store. After all, I’m sure if you dig deep enough, you will find a layer of dark green paint, but then weren’t we a little green once? In fact, wasn’t everything green at least once?