Biggest Loser, Again

             It's time once again for the start of the second biggest loser competition.  My goal is to get healthy and to try to once again lose some weight.  Last time I lost close to thirty pounds, this time I am not going to set goals, other than to do my best.  I will  still come clean about my weight as I go.  No more biscuits, no more Krispy Kreme doughnuts, no more ice cream.
     I have put a few pounds back on since the last time, not much, about 10 pounds, but enough that I am going the wrong way.  I don't want to keep going back.  Once again I am going to try to just set my goal to get healthy.
     This has been a life long struggle for me, and one that I will fight for the rest of my life.  I want to be there when my kids are older, see my grandkids one day.  That is what is going to keep me going.  Say a prayer for me, I still have a long way to go.  I can do this though.

Aurora

    I apologize ahead of time for the tone of this post, but  this needs to be said.  Friday morning we all woke up to the news of the shooting in Aurora Colorado.  It seemed surreal, again.  This kind of stuff happens way too often these days.  I was numb.  I got ready and headed in to work.
     To be honest, I had pushed it to the back of my mind, until I came upon a friend who was in tears.  I asked her if she was okay, and she said she had just been reading about the shooting, and that there were a lot of kids in the theater.  I hadn't given that much thought.  That set me off.  All lives are precious, but to me, kids are especially so.  One of the victims was only 6 years old.  How do you shoot a 6 year old girl?  I'm off track already.
     What kind of sick being does these kind of things?  God asks us to forgive, but how can you find forgiveness for actions like these?  I don't know, if my family was the victim of something like this that I could.  That's honesty.  The more information that came out, the worse it became.
     Big man he was, he came in, shot these innocent people, while HE was wearing body armor to protect himself.  Then afterwards, he was found HIDING near his car.  Then the news was reported that this scum had booby trapped his apartment with explosives, somehow fixed it where loud music would start playing so someone would come to investigate, and set off explosions killing even more innocent people.  Sick.
     Of course, the media was soon all on top of things, spending more time talking about gun control and trying to play political games casting blame on whichever political party they were not affiliated with, throwing out innuendo and half truths.  Forget about the tremendous toll this tragedy is taking on families, the Aurora community, and the nation as a whole, we have a political agenda to push.  Early Friday morning, ABC news was speculating that the shooter was a member of the Tea Party, and were pushing that fact on the newscast.  Never mind that they didn't check their facts, and that the Tea Party member was 50 years old and not 24 like the shooter.  Of course, in their retraction, they blamed social media, and members of the public for the misinformation.  The ones that used this tragedy to push political agendas are scum too.
     Now we will be faced with glory hogging lawyers jumping on every news program talking about how the shooter is innocent until proven guilty, misunderstood, and placing the blame for this on everyone else except for the one who did this.  It will be society's fault, the gun lobby's fault, everyone but the scum.  There have already been people on the news as of Saturday night speculating that he may have been sexually abused, and throwing out the insanity card.  Yes, the lawyers that use this to push their agenda and make money are scum also.
     Lastly, we will be faced with hearing for who knows how long about the scum in court, and all of his appeals.  Meanwhile, we will be providing him with medical, dental room and board, on top of probably providing the scum with legal representation. He is safe and secure in his isolated cell. He has also already requested a public defender, which the same people that survived the massacre will pay for with their tax money. I have an idea to curb some of these scum from taking innocent lives.
     If you do something like this, you get a fair trial.  If you can't afford a lawyer yourself, you get legal books. If you can't read, someone will read them to you.  If and when you are found guilty, you will not spend the rest of your life being taken care of by the taxpayers.  You will be put into a room, and be given to the families of the victims to dole out your punishment.  You won't know when they are coming, it could be today, tomorrow, or next week.  Oh yeah, they will be wearing body armor and be heavily armed.  Have a nice day.

Herbie

     I lost another friend this week.  Herbert "Herbie" Roberts passed on to his reward after a long, difficult battle with illness.  Seems like this happens all too frequently lately.  Herb was a one of a kind character.  I had not seen or talked to him in a while, but my memories of him are fond and will live with me and many others for a long time.
     Most people called him Herbie, but to me he was always Herb.  I met Herb years ago when I was working in the denim mill.  I liked him from the day I met him.  Many people put on an act, and when you get to really know them you find out how they really are.  Herb was real every second of every day that I knew him.  You knew by being around him he loved God, he loved his family, and he absolutely loved and enjoyed life.
     Herb worked an incredible amount of hours back when we worked together.  I would often ask him why he did it.  He would tell me real quick, he did it for his family.  I still remember how he would light up when he would talk about his family, and especially when one of them would come by the mill to see him.
     Herb and I both left the mill and went into a different line of work.  We both went into the car business.  I lasted a year, Herb did it until the end of his life.  Several times when he was working in Dalton I would go out of the way to go to the dealership he worked at just to say hi, and catch up with him for a few moments.  He left there and went to work in Gadsden, so I didn't get to see him as much.
     Occasionally he would cross my mind, and I would look up his number and call him up.  I guess the last time I talked to Herb was a few years ago when we were looking for a van.  I called him up and asked him if he had one that we would like.  I had already looked online at their inventory, and knew they probably didn't, but took the opportunity to call him and talk to him for a few minutes anyway.
     Herb fought a tough battle the past few years, and I always dreaded hearing his latest setback.  I knew Herb was in bad shape, but figured he would win the battle somehow.  When I started to work and saw his name at the funeral home I was heartbroken.
     I will always have one favorite memory of Herb.  Herb and I got along great, a lot of it had to do with our love of pranks.  When we worked together almost every day we would try to get one another.  Herb always won.  One time I thought I had gotten Herb.  I don't remember what I did, but I left work that evening for my long weekend off.  Herb hardly ever took off.  I didn't think much about it, until I came in to work the next week.  As soon as I walked in I saw the look on everybody's faces and knew something was up.
     I started to get ready to go to work, and headed towards my locker.  Every eye in the place was on me, and I knew I had been gotten.  When I got to my locker I noticed that there was something on the vent holes.  When I opened it up I knew what had happened.  The entire weekend while I was home, Herb was making me a snack of sardines and onions in my locker for me to have when I got back.  He had stuffed them through the vent holes.  Three days worth of sardines and onions.  He had won again.
     Some would say that Herb lost his battle this time, but I know better.  Herb was a man of true faith, and so his battle has been won.  He is with his Savior now, his race is over.  There are a few of us that worked with Herb back then that work together at another place now.  As I went around telling them about Herb's passing today all talked about the great memories they have of him, and how much they loved and respected him.  That is the best testimony anybody can ask for.
    I look forward to the day I see Herb again.  I just hope they don't have sardines and onions in Heaven.

Finding My Calling

      Lately I have been giving a lot of thought about life, mostly in what makes a person happy, and what defines a persons life.  I can honestly say that as far as I am concerned, the calling part is still far away from me.  I do know that driving a forklift in a manufacturing plant just does not seem like what my entire calling in life is supposed to be.  I have reached the one year date of the goal I set for myself, of being out of the plant in a year. I didn't make it.
     Most people look back at the first of each year, but since I set the goal a year ago, I am going to do it now.  I had some success, and some failures this past year.  I had a story make the national finals of a short story contest, and had the story actually get published by a national web site.  For that accomplishment I received $50.  I have made approximately $6.47 on this blog.  Needless to say, being a freelance writer does not look to be my calling.
     I have had a great year in being Daddy to my kids.  I have watched them play in the high school band, play baseball, football, soccer, and softball.  I have listened as my now 7 year old son, and my 9 year old daughter have brought tears to my eyes with some of the sweetest prayers I have ever hear.  I have watched my teenage daughter grow into an exceptional young woman.  My wife and I have grown closer.  I can count those as successes.
    I still have not been able to get my elderly mother out of her house, which is falling down around her and is not safe, into decent housing.  That has been a prayer of mine for years.  I also have not been able to get my family out of our mobile home and into a real house.  I am however thankful that we have roofs over our heads, and food to eat.  That's all we need.
     Something inside of me is gnawing away at me, and I can't get a grip on it.  There is something else out there for me, and I feel like I am so close to figuring it out I can't stand it.  I can feel it inside of myself, just waiting to burst out, but don't know what it is.  This next year I am going to try to focus more on figuring out what it is, and striving towards that calling.  When I get that gnawing feeling out of me, I know I will have relief.
     I have come to the conclusion that material things, although nice to have, are not what makes us happy.  This week we have been to an Atlanta Braves game, and will go to a Rome Braves game.  We have had a cookout with great friends and just sat on the deck watching fireworks, eating hamburgers, hot dogs and ice cream, and just enjoyed being with people that care.  The tickets to both games were freebies, and the cookout costs were minimal.  Money did not make those memories.
     Happiness comes from within.  That's what I have to get a handle on.  I don't know yet what the calling inside of me is, but know that I am close to finding what I am supposed to do with my life.  Until then, I am going to keep on enjoying the little things in life.

Butch

     Today's post is honoring a dear friend of mine.  I don't do this very often.  I have talked about my Dad, my Grandmother, Buford Fox, and Joyce Ozment.  Today's post is about a person who is near and dear to a lot of people, and who is fighting a very tough battle.  I hope in some way I can bring some attention to his battle, and maybe bring him a little help.

Johnny Butch

     I first met Johnny Butch in high school.  He was behind me in school, and played in the band.  Even back then Butch was a character.  He was always the life of the party, and had a personality that just drew everyone to him.  After high school I lost track of Butch for several years.
     Soon, I ran into Butch again, and we caught up on old times.  He had went into the Army, and had returned home.  I noticed that when Butch talked, his speech was a little slurred, and he didn't seem real steady.  I assumed he had a stroke or something, and didn't go too far into it.
     Later on Johnny Butch started attending the same church I was attending.  That's when I really got to know him.  Turns out, he had been doing P.T. in the Army, and had noticed that his endurance was failing.  Tests were ran, and Butch was diagnosed with a deteriorating cerebellum.  He told me that the longer he went, the worse he would get.
     Butch never let on to the struggles he was facing, even as his body failed him more and more.  He was active in the church, especially with the youth.  Everybody loved him.  He was a shining light.   As time went on though, Butch's health got worse.  Soon, even coming to church was a chore.  I once again lost track of Butch.
     Facebook brought us back together, and also brought the name of his disease.  Ataxia is the name.  I hate what it has done to Butch.  I saw Butch a few weeks back at a yard sale that was being held to raise money for him.  He was beaming when he saw me and the kids.  Butch couldn't wait to talk to the kids, and to just love them for a while.  They were proud to love him back.
     Butch has a wonderful wife, Pamela, who is a gift to him from God.  She is trying to raise $15,000 for Butch so that he can get stem cell treatments to fight this awful disease.  They have a Facebook page, HELP BUTCH CLARK FIGHT ATAXIAto help get the word out about their cause.  I ask you to join the group, and to do what you can to spread the word about this battle.  God Bless you Johnny Butch, I love you man.

Nap Time, NOT!!!

      I thought I was going to get a chance to grab a quick nap Wednesday afternoon.  My wife had a rare day when she didn't have to work her second job, and had picked up the kids and went to visit her Mother.  I had a few hours at home, by myself.  I looked forward to grabbing a few minutes sleep to try to make up for the sleep I have been losing this week.
     I came home, showered, put on my pajamas, then climbed into bed.  I was exhausted, to say the least.  I had just about drifted off, when the phone rang.  It was my Mother.  She called to let me know that some man with a strange accent and a Miami Florida number had called asking for me.  After she told him I didn't live there, he hung up.  She had to call and let me know.  I have no idea why a man with an accent would be calling me from Miami Florida.  I thought about it for a few minutes trying to figure it out, then decided that it wasn't as important as sleep.
     I had just about caught up with Mr. Sandman again, when I heard a knock at the door.  It was my Mom again, letting me know that she was going to the store, and bringing me the mail.  I thanked her, then stumbled back to bed and laid down again.  I was bound and determined to get those few elusive moments of sleep.
     I was really close again, when I heard another knock on the door.  I rolled back over and tried to ignore it, but the knock came again.  I got up and went to the door to find the girl from down the street wanting to know if Lauren could come out to play.  I told her Lauren wasn't home.  She looked at the bleary eyed stranger and turned to go home.
     Before I could get the door shut, my cell phone started ringing.  It was a friend of mine wanting to know if I had another friends number.  I told him I didn't.  He needed some air conditioning work done and was wondering if our friend could do it.  I gave him the name of the guy that does our heating and air work.  He apologized for waking me, and I told him not to worry about it, I had never been asleep to begin with.
     I should go back, get in the bed, and try again, but as sure as I do the guy from Miami will find my number.

Between A Rock And A Hard Place

     It's killing me.  This afternoon, after I picked up the kids from the sitter, I could tell that Lauren, my 9 year old, was upset.  I thought something might have happened during the day, or she was just having a bad day.  We got home, started trying to unwind, but Lauren went into her room and sat in the dark.  Later, she came out and went on the porch and sat on her bicycle.  I knew something wasn't right.
     I went out, sat on the swing, and patted the seat beside me for her to sit down.  She wouldn't.  Now I was really concerned.  I finally got her to come and sit in my lap, and thought she just wanted some Daddy time.  I asked her what was wrong.  She said nothing was wrong.  I asked again, and again she said nothing, and started crying.  Finally, I got her to spill the beans.
     Lauren was upset, because she never gets to see her Mama and Daddy much any more.  That was the hardest thing for me to hear.  I try my best to be there for my kids, nothing is more important to me than that.  For one of them to tell me they feel neglected is a hard pill to swallow.
     The problem is that we are like a lot of people, and are having to work our tails off just to make ends meet.  Daddy going in early and staying late, Mama working two jobs, just to make ends meet.  Kids don't understand things like this.  Summer is supposed to be the time when kids are with their parents, having fun.  Not seeing your parents is tough.  I know, I have been leaving for work in the middle of the night while my family is asleep, then picking the kids up when I finally get off, and getting to see my wife for a precious few moments when she finally comes home at night before I crash for my 4 or 5 hours of sleep.  I hate it.
     There are times I wish I could just let everything go, and just  have some family time.  If only it was that easy.  The hardest part is the kids knowing that this year there won't be a vacation, or much of anything special.  Kids just don't understand that you are hanging on by the skin of your teeth, and that you have to do what you are doing to survive.  That's when I realize that despite all of my good intentions, and all that I thought I was doing right, I have let my family down.
     Maybe I should have followed the money more, and worked the jobs where I could have made better money.  Maybe I was selfish in wanting to see my kids play ball, and be there for things like that.  I just don't know any more.  I know it hurts.  I want to be everything for everybody.  Right now we are between the rock and the hard place, and the kids are the ones that are paying the price.  That's the ultimate hurt.
     After I wrote this, my 9 year old came up to me and told me she had found some money and gave it to me.  It was a dollar bill, a couple of quarters, and a bunch of pennies.  I asked her where she found it, and she said it was on my bed.  I thought it might have fell out of my pocket, but then remembered I didn't have that kind of money on me.  I asked her about it again, and she finally told me the money was hers.  I tried giving it back to her, but she wouldn't take it.  She wanted me to have it, so that I wouldn't have to work so hard any more.  I have no doubt I have the best kids in the world.
     That gives me the strength to get back up at 3:00 a:m another day and get after it.  They aren't giving up on me, so I can't give up either.