Give It Up For The Turtle

untitledIt’s a fast world, and getting faster. We are a culture of more, bigger, first and strongest. We are taught to believe that these are the only keys to success. We are taught that there is little value in second place and then of course when second place happens we are consoled by someone telling us that at least we tried our best. Still the message rings clear. We would have taken the prize if we only finished first.

We spend so much time concerning ourselves with this image that we miss the true, valuable things that the Creator wants us to see. If we choose the Christian path, we are taught that the meek inherit the earth and that the last shall be first. But I don’t see many folks actually living out this path. Instead we live in a kind of contradiction, saying we believe in one thing, but actually pursuing another. No wonder we’ve got issues.

Enter the Turtle ! Moving slowly of course, checking out his surroundings a little at a time, choosing his path. There are a lot of reasons to like a turtle and many folklore stories, but here is the one thing that I see in the turtle. When trouble or craziness of life comes around; when the big winds come and threaten our lives, does the turtle stand and fight. Does he go head to head and toe to toe with all the madness? No, I see him slipping his head inside the protective shell he Creator gave him and just let all of the insanity blow right by him. He isn’t afraid, he just knows this is how life is and he is better off not trying to fight against those forces. And he doesn’t get thrown off course. I think maybe, he goes into that shell, listens to a little Bob Marley, drinks a cold Kona beer and eats some really good enchiladas. Everything is cool. He’s easy to get along with, a good listener and is comfortable both on land as well as water! I got nothing against the Lion or Tiger or Bear, but I dig the ole turtle. How about you?

Happy 80th Birthday Willie !!!

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Do you ever wonder what makes Willie Nelson keep working the road? First of all, I don’t think there is any reason anyone should quit what they do just because of age. If you can still pull it off and people want you to do it, then keep on going! I like Willie’s quote “All I do is play music and play golf, which one do you want me to quit?”.
I’ve heard the media say “what does he have left to prove?” “why would he want to stay out there on the road?”. I’d say — you know nothing about Willie Nelson.

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After penning 60′s country classics like “Funny How Time Slips Away”, “Hello Walls”, “Nightlife”, and the most played jukebox song of all time “Crazy”, the world finally, in the mid 1970′s, began to hear what Nashville people had heard for years; the genius of Willie Nelson as an artist. 1975 brought us “Red Headed Stranger”, which in the early 1990′s, Paul Simon said he still listens to once a week, and the smash “Blue Eyes Crying In The Rain”. Someone in Willie’s road crew once said “We went out for a 6 week run and never came back”. 38 years later Willie is still on the road. Small clubs in no name towns to the most exclusive concert halls of the world, it doesn’t matter to him. His 1978 release “Stardust” stayed on Billboards top 100 albums for over 10 years!! While the numbers are amazing its the spirit that rings true.

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So back to the earlier questions. After millions of records sold, every major award in the world on his mantle, money in the bank, even after his little tangle with the IRS, why does he keep doing it? I’d venture to say it has always been about the connection to people. He may use the word “Fan”, but I don’t think he sees his listeners that way. I think he needs us as much as we need him. It’s an exchange of energy, of life’s blood, if you will.

The Willie Nelson concert isn’t only about “Whiskey River” and “On The Road Again”, it is also about a spiritual exchange. An exchange of love and karma. It’s a ministry, you might say,one of truth, openness and love for everyone, no one is excluded, no one! It’s just what Willie does and we are the healthier for it.

Maybe in the end it’s closer to the line from the movie “Songwriter”, “I did it for the love but I wasn’t above the money !!! Happy Birthday to a world treasure !

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From Minnesota to Martin Luther King

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I hear it all the time. I have even been known to say it. For generations it has been echoed. It is mostly said by older folks. Maybe they feel left behind. The world moves faster and at some point we all can feel a little out of the loop. It seems that when our frustrations rise we default to those dang kids ! The youth have lost their mind ! All they do is XCVT#$%, spend all their time #DT%^*(!!!!
Is the world going to hell in a handbasket? Have morals declined, reverence declined, manners gone by the wayside? I have a friend that is frustrated my our hometown of Pensacola. This could be any town USA. He always says “Pensacola isn’t like it used to be”. Of course it isn’t and it never has been. When was its golden age? When was it ideal? We tend to hold that belief of when we were in our prime and we thought we had this ole world by its tail and we had nothing else to do but swing it around !! For us it was in the 80′s ! I’m sure my Father would say it was in the 60′s and my Grandfather would have found Pensacola to be the best in the 50′s ! I’m just saying every generation sees the world from its own perspective.
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I recently hosted a group of high school students and chaperones at my house for supper and a campfire. These 9 students from Minnesota Chose to spend their Spring Break, not at the beach or wherever folks from Minnestoa go, but of all things to embark on a Civil rights tour of the South ! I know, crazy right?! These kids sat around our fire sharing rich, life changing experiences from this once n a lifetime journey.
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They shared stories from Memphis, Jackson TN, Montgomery and Birmingham. They shared their refelcetions with such passion and richness. Teenagers in 2013 from Minnesota trying their best to wrap their minds around what will never be fully understood by any one person. Complexities so overwhelming and so countless. For any and everyone living through those days, there is a story. There is an angle and perspective.

Man has always done terrible things to man. We can look at all stages of history from Biblical times, to treatment of Native Americans to Civil Rights as well as human rights concerning the Gay community. It is sad that we can't find a connection in our differences. That some have chose to respond to the differences with hate and violence.

If we are all children of the same Creator, I fail to understand it totally. But that is coming from a 53 year old person. I don’t think I was always seeing it the way I do now. I am thankful to have remaied open to letting myself evolve and to listen to the voices of the gentle, bridge building world. I believe those are the voices of the Creator, the Master of Breath. It was especially in those voices of each and every one of those wonderful students who have chosen a different path. I was honored to have you.

Thanks not only to the students and chaperones, but to Paul Jeager the trip organizer for leading the charge and bringing these young lives on the journey from Minnesota to Martin Luther King. From interest to engagement. From heart to healing.

The Parking Lot

Wednesday morning. Early. Open parking lot. Traffic humming by on the street. One car pulls up and waits. A second car pulls in a few minutes later and a small boy emerges. As the man from the first car is making his way towards the second car, the boy is running. Arms wide open, excited and hungry for the arms of his Father. Hugs of a broken heart, of feeling what he doesn’t understand. Hugs with no concepts concerning time, where a week feels like a lifetime. Hugs of maybe not enough time to ever heal this pain and heartache.

The Mother from the second car gets out and patiently waits; giving the Father and Son their moment. No smiles or frowns from behind her big sunglasses. She just watches and waits. Part of her broken heart is in those tear-stained hugs of this sad weekly ritual.

The man and the woman talk. She points out how slim he looks. He pulls open his jacket to verify. He may be flattered but he also knows firsthand how sorrow can strip a person’s weight in a hurry. They speak briefly, exchange a few papers. Hand gestures but no anger from my silenced point of view. No waves goodbye, they just walk away ….again. They thought the first time they walked away would be the toughest, but now with the little boy getting older and clinging more, it becomes apparent that this new life is tougher. Heavy stuff. Sad stuff to witness and sadder still to be the one involved.

They have chosen this parking lot to make their weekly exchange. Half way I guess from the old place to whomever had to move out. They exchange the boy, the best thing they ever had in their world. The most loved. She tussles his hair and watches him get into the Fathers car.

I have chosen a parking lot such as this in past years. I have pulled up with degrees of resentment, pain and confusion. Blame for the other and just as much blame for myself. I have hugged so tight as if to never let go. I still don’t want to let go. It can still draw tears. Divorce doesn’t have to be the worst event of someones life but I will say without a doubt that when our children are involved it will be a wound that never totally heals. Perhaps we learn to live with our regrets and pains. We learn to mask and cope, but make no mistake, these sorrows shape us.

I hope you or I never have to choose a parking lot somewhere in between what should have been forever and what will never be again. I hope we can see the beauty of tending our gardens, and giving our children the best of ourselves. And if we do, I hope forgiveness begins on our own tongue and ends with the ones we’ve hurt. I will be looking for this family again next Wednesday. To see them is to see myself and to see myself is a reminder that hope and forgiveness loom large and are sometimes brought down to a single hug. A clutching moment in time where love is all that really matters, and the wish that this hug would never end.

The Gumbo Child

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A few years ago I wrote a lyric that my friend Brad Ford helped me turn it into a song. I was thinking of home, the Florida Gulf Coast, city of five flags and of its diverse history.

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“The home of my heart is on these white sands , where the north shore laps against this southern land. Santa Rosa breezes are always freeing me from the chains I feel but cannot see….I’m just a Gumbo Child, rollin’ flowin’ with the tides, waves rollin’ in and they subside. With the pull of my soul and another ride…for the Gumbo Child”.

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The people make up this land. It is always that way. Here, Native Americans, English, Spanish and French were the ealry ones, and now it’s a big  pot of good tastin’ Gumbo ! I suppose most places in the good ole US of A could lay claim to that. Pensacola seems even more so with a longer history (Americas first settlement by the way), with it’s ethenic blends, Pentecostal roots mixed with tourism, Armed Service folks, rednecks, laid back beach lovers and just about anyone else that wanders down to our beaches and never leaves ! Who could blame them. I wasn’t the first one there and so I can’t say who gets to be the last.

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“Cowboy hats and old surfboards, Crawfish boils and half ton Fords. Marley music ain’t no surprise under a full moon Hank Williams sky….Just a Gumbo Child, goin’, flowin’ with the tides, waves rollin’ in and they subside. With the pull of my soul and another ride…for the Gumbo Child” !

 

Isn’t the diversity in us as a people and even within our own selves, that makes us interesting? I think so. I love culture, mine as well as anothers. Living and learning about that makes us stronger, not weaker. Makes us unite more and divide less. For how many of us can say we are full blood anything? It’s getting more and more rare these days. And if we are all the children of One Creator, then what difference does it make? Just because we want to learn of and live with other cultures doesn’t mean we have to let go of ours!

Just a Gumbo Child, goin’ , flowin’ with the tides, waves rollin’ in and they subside….with the pull of my soul and another ride… for the Gumbo Child” !!

I think we should all embrace our inner Gumbo, what do ya say? !!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Just Because You Can

Is it because I am getting older? Is it because I’ve matured?, I know, ha ha! Is it because somewhere along the line the value of true manners and good tatse were instilled in me, and the notion of “just because you can, doesn’t mean you should” was burned into my brain.

Since I was a child one of my biggest challenges has been my profane tounge ! I do say this with a little wink and smile because on the big list of No-No’s, its not that big a deal. Sounds like a guy making excuses ! BUT, there is a discipline missing and is that some of what I’d say we are misssing in our world of Pop Culture. Language and crassness doesn’t make me blush and I don’t think of myself as a prude but I do think there is something, growing even in me, about good taste. It just seems that the trashier you are and especially if you can do it on TV then the more popular you are.

Some people might think it’s the sign of being an adult that they can say and act any way they want, but perhaps it’s the sign of maturity that you choose to not exhibit your pooerest choices.

I hope the pendulum will swing back the other way. Or maybe I can work on my own pendulum swinging back the other way. I guess I’m further down the road where less is more, where quietness feels better than noise and hopefully the teachings of my youth are ringing truer than ever.

Measuring Up

Living in this age with the world brought into our living rooms via Television, it has lately left me with a few little thoughts about life and what value we attach to or describe as a successful life. I feel like society in general is slipping away from being grounded, like everything gets bigger and bigger and we don’t know how or where to stop it, so we just ride it I suppose until it throws us off ! I saw a new article on a Florida couple that is building a 20,ooo sq ft. house. I don’t know about you, but that kind of stuff grosses me out. I find no admiration or envy in that. I do try to mind my own affairs and keeping my own life between the ditches is a full time job, but really, 20,000 sq ft house ?

When I lose my footing and perspective, I think back on my Grandparents. When I look for a model of success, I look to them. When I look for a model of contentment and belonging in the world, I look to their life. They weren’t perfect (thank God) and I know I look at them through somewhat rose colored glasses of a Grandson, but I saw their life as humble, simple, peaceful, spiritual and grounded. Grounded in a connection with the earth and with their faith. If our Creator does look down and would tip his hat to a life well lived, I cannot imagine them being one the hat not being tipped to. I’m not saying that folks that aspire to become leaders, doctors, politicians (well maybe not politicians), and such aren’t worthy of the tip of the hat, I’m just saying it isn’t a better way to live.

I surely have a heart for the forgotten ones, the unhip and disfavored. I believe every man, color, creed, and character were created equal. My Grandfather was an 8th grade educated cotton picker from south Alabama, who spent his work life in Pensacola Florida with Frisco Railroad. He and my Grandmother raised 2 children in a small house that was the only one they ever lived in. He made enough money for them to “move up”, but that house was their home. They bought what they needed and went where they needed or wanted to go. They shared their joys and their tears in a little kitchen that was about the size of some people’s closets these days. The humble approach to a life of integrity left them knowing that stuff wasn’t important.

So I’ve danced in circles and not sure I made my point very well. With Sports superstars, music and movie stars and people with 20,000 sq ft houses it can be easy to feel we don’t measure up sometimes. But what is the measure of a man anyway, whose ruler do we use? Any thoughts?