Jay's Place

The events of this past week have reminded me of the fine line we tread.Life and death are only separated by
a moment. With the passing of luminaries I'm reminded of my own faint light flickering on this side of the line.
I'm also reminded this week of the thin line between wisdom and stupidity. Last nights congressional vote on cap
and trade was a glaring example of that but, I ramble.Indeed the fine line between wisdom and stupidity is that which I feel qualified to write about and that, from the male perspective, is my subject.
Uncontrolled appetites can lead to many unhealthy decisions. The list of delicacies is long and often blonde,
brunette or redheaded.In western societies it is in your face.In some societies it's hidden beneath veils and robes.
I prefer in your face.
That presents men with the challenge of rationality or stupidity. Youthful indiscretion is not excused but reckless
abandonment by a seemingly responsible mature man borders on insanity. That is my point. There is a fine line.
I cannot cast stones. I can only warn myself and my brothers in bond that the pleasures of sin are only for a
season.Sin is such an avoided subject it seems. Perhaps an acronym would be more acceptable. Self Indulgent
Nincompoop.
Our elected officials so often disappoint me. High expectations should never be so glibly placed in mortals.
We are certainly fallible. Hope for the best, expect the worst? Maybe not.Hope for the best, pray for the best,
expect the best and never let the banner of exceptionalism fall into the debris of one man's mistakes.
In the words of a famous bumper sticker, **it happens. That does not justify the sins of stupid officials.
Hiking the Appalachian trail would have been a much better idea. A long walk in the woods can settle
the head and allow the brain to return to it's rightful position. I know things can get a little crazy at times.
We all have our moments.

Jack in the box

Exhausted
disgusted
fed up to the max
How to and when to
Just let the thing crack
Get slap berserk
Let loose all the nuts
Spin out the bolts
and just kiss my tired butt
There's a wild man
a fruit cake
right here where I stand
I've come all unraveled
I'm a lunatic man
I'm tired of the effort
to keep it packed in                                                                                                                                  I'm a jack in the box
on the very last spin
No doubt about it
I've crossed the thin line
I've flown with the cuckoo
and had a great time

jrw © 5/12/94

Brothers, sin is pleasurable for a season but it just ain’t worth the payback. I guess the moral of
this post is simply, keep Jack zipped up so you don't end up looking like a silly clown or a South Carolina
Governor.

j

1 Corinthians 10:13 (American Standard Version)

It has been really busy this spring. Two years of drought in the southeast has finally eased a bit. With municipalities relaxing watering restrictions many people are anxious to repair their lawns and landscapes. Well, make hay when the sun shines! We’re looking forward to a great year. I realized today that I haven’t posted anything this month. Some people post every day! That’s a challenge I can’t wrap my brain around just now. Maybe one day. That’s what made me think of this poem. Hope you enjoy it.

Stopped cold in my tracks

with the brick wall realization that 

it ain’t over yet

Unfinished reminders point to the sky

as monuments to procrastination

Do it later rings in anthem

through the hallways of time

with as many reasons as rotting projects

why they fell from grace

In one hundred years no one will care

In two minutes it won’t matter to most

Leave my grave unfilled

Carve just half my stone as reminders to passers by

there are other things to do

It ain’t finished yet

jrw © 08/26/1993

Our subject is an ok guy it's possible he would qualify
to enter into the pearly gates and set before a banquet plate
the likes of which he'd never see on this side of eternity
He prays his prayers five times a day gazing trancelike 
one might say surely he is on the way but has he known the Savior
Satan was concerned a bit perhaps he'd lost another
So it was a plan was hatched to finally discover
The order was to check him out Chief says there should be no doubt
Monday morning would be best Administer the Drivers Test
Get Red Light to aggravate and sweet Ms Blue Hair to slow his pace
As he begins to gain his stride bring Pimpled Squirt up by his side
to cut him off at his  next turn
When he thinks he's on the way bring in Rusty Chevrolet
smoking stalled astride two lanes Grid lock at Peachtree and Spring
He'll take the short cut that he knows Still sure he won't be late
Broken Main should do the trick and park him in a lake
Chief checked the time and counted down
five, four, three, two, one
The subject just flat blew his top and oh boy was it fun
He cursed and spit and sputter splashed in water to his knees
The Drivers Test  a huge success Chief was really pleased
The subject showed a side not seen in his Sunday school
and screamed a string of syllables so not Sunday cool
The subject passed the test Monday He scored a ninety five
Still the chief seemed concerned and pulled me to the side
We work hard to spoil the race and some runners we will win
but those who’ve known the Saviors grace will have no stain of sin.

jrw © 05/27/2009

The cycle is ongoing it seems. I don’t recall the events of 1989 that caused me to jot down these lines of poetry. It seems the mantra of the day is, never waste a good crisis. It hasn’t changed much. Tragedy and bad news sell. When we realize that it becomes a little easier to digest the daily drivel. The longer I experience life the more I am determined that worrying is good. It seems that the things I worry about never happen! Imagine that.

Tired   

I've become so weary
hearing of all that ends life
that I've quit living
for fear of encountering a killer along the way
and so I'm dying
slowly, painfully, alone
without cheeseburgers, cigarettes and beer
Oh, the agony
it is to much for a mere mortal
give me one more cup of Maxwell House
and take me from this sea of carcinogens
wide eyed and rearing to go

jrw © 1989

The morning cup is for savoring all day.

Make it last!

j