The Power Of Words

Here is something to stir your soul, to make you appreciate the life you have been given, it should make your day … pass it around.


I find myself standing in the bathroom, 4:20 A.M., and thru the window I can see the Yellow Harvest Moon heading for the horizon and I think to myself, “I don’t have a thing for the webpage this morning, nothing.”  Man, I hate it when that happens.  I stumble to the kitchen, to make me another cup of ambition (as Dolly Parton would say) and the coffee filters stick together.  I twist them, I pick at them, I curse under my breath.  Loading the pot, I slink into the bedroom for a quick good morning shower and get dressed.  Some eight to ten minutes later, I head into the kitchen for my cup of Joe and discover I neglected to turn on the power … No coffee.

Man, I hate it when that happens.

I suspect it is going to be another fun day.  It is not as if there isn’t anything here to read, surely there is something.  There is always something.  This past week for instance, the most popular posts were as follows:  Top Posts (the past week):  Bikinis (The reason men are pigs)  Sneak Into America(audio)  Monday Morning Mega-Meltdown Goin With The Flow  The Worry Tree  How Old Am I?  My Favorite Animal Eagle Bus Project Files   At one point, someone had been rummaging around all the way back to 2008 for one post, and it kind of gave me a charge re-reading it myself.  I had completely forgotten about writing that commentary (Skinny Dipping With Grandpa).

But that, was another day, right now, I have this one on tap to contend with.

Missing You:  Billy Raye Cyrus has a daughter named Miley (I believe), she has a new title out on the CMT network it is entitled “You are going to make me lonesome when you leave.”  Guess she is crossing over to the big time now and giving up the Disney child star status and moving on.  I don’t believe she is right, you can be lonesome as all get out, and no one leaves.  You can be living in the same house, under the same roof with a woman or a man, and still find yourself lonesome.

Music isn’t always correct in its appraisal of life.

Love Hurts:  A review released this month by University of Arizona researchers found that divorced adults are at a higher risk of an early death than married adults. The effects of a split can be as harmful to health as smoking 15 cigarettes a day, being overweight or drinking heavily, according to the report.  One 2006 study found that middle-aged women, in particular, are at a greater risk of cardiovascular disease than married women of the same age. Cancer and mobility issues have also been linked to the after-effects of a long-term romantic separation.  If you are not buying into any of this, have you seen a recent picture of Demi Moore lately?

Grin and Bear It:  Did you know that you can actually take more pain in life, if you will just laugh it off?  Researchers at Oxford University asked volunteers to watch either a comedy or a documentary, and then applied painful levels of cold or pressure was applied to their arms.  The volunteers who had laughed hard during their videos could withstand 10 percent more pain that those who’d only giggled or who hadn’t been amused at all.  Remember that the next time you are roped into watching Dancin With The Stars or the X-Factor guys.

Bad News Is Back:  There is an old saying, “People who do not learn from their mistakes, are prone to repeat them.”  I don’t know where it came from, but it often rings true.  Americans are raking up credit card debt again.  After actually reducing debt in 2009 and adding just $9 billion new new credit card debt last year, consumers are projected to put another $54 billion on plastic this year.

The Who, What, Where, When and Why of it all:  I was recently asked by a friend of mine, why I write these daily posts. It seemed like a simple enough question, but the truth is, I was stumped. Why do I write these each day? Not for money certainly, although I continue to hold out hope. Is it a creative exercise from which I derive great pleasure? Not really. I’ve always felt that the act of writing isn’t nearly as enjoyable as the feeling that comes from “having written.”

So why do I do it? Well, after careful consideration I’ve come to believe that had I been even a moderately successful people pleaser or awkward at best a communicator of some sorts, in my formative years, I would feel little compulsion to communicate now.   This leads me to wonder, would it have been appropriate to have told the friend that I write these posts because I was incapable of expressing myself as a youngster, a situation which caused me unbearable anguish and is only now beginning to slowly fade away?

Maybe. But I didn’t.

I told him I write them because it’s fun. And this leads me to a question: if he’s questioning me about my writing, what kind of miserable childhood did he have?  What is it that he did for fun?

Or better yet, what is the definition of fun?

A woman I know, goes to the Indian Casino’s quite regularly, she told me that she “had found a slot machine that was really fun.”  So I asked her to tell me about it, she said, “Oh, I play it all the time, and it is a real hoot.”  So naturally I said, “Do you win?” and she said, “No.  I never win.  Last time I played it it took $400 from me.

Yeah, that sounds like fun to me.

Let’s say you know two good looking women, one is a waitress at a restaurant that you frequent, the other is a cashier at Lowe’s.  Both women are about the same age, height and look rather nice.  One when you meet her, she always wants to know “how your wife is doing?” and stuff like that.  The other one, when she see’s you walking up, she quickly reaches up and takes off her glasses (to make herself more attractive I suppose), she will grab your hand, give it a little squeeze and then say …  “I have not seen you in such a long time now.”  Which one do you suppose a guy would give the most attention to?

Which one do you suppose would be the most fun?

I hit the publish button and I am finished.  Slowly I get up and head for the kitchen for one more cup of Joe.  My old bones are slow to respond and I kind of have a little hitch in my giddy-up this morning.  One more is in the bag #1163 … My work is done, I am not sure if it was that much fun to tell you the truth.

I hate it when that happens.