Those Damn Church People

You know a church is one of those places where the folks will gossip about you, stab you in the back and for sure hurt you. Yes, it has a plethora of hypocrites and bad people. Gee - that sounds like a horrible place to be – it sure is! Think about it, you bring a whole bunch of sinners together and what do you get? Trouble. 

It’s been a while since I have been to church. Surprisingly, I am kind of missing it. I don’t really miss the preaching all that much even though sometimes it can be quite good, and I certainly don’t miss all that fake rock music they all seem to attempt to play these days. But, I do miss the people, the relationships, and folks who will accept me warts and all.

You see there is that other side of all those sinners. That’s the side, where people at church for the most part want to be better than they are. Sure they screw up. Hey, I know a secret – you do too. Sorry, it has to do with this thing called being part of the human race. Guess what – once people start going to church they do not shed off their humanness. I won’t argue that most church folk pretend to be better than they are, I know I do. But I know another secret you do that also, every time you are in the presence of another human you try to be better than you are, unless of course you’re a psychopath.

That other side of church goers that I have experienced has been pretty gosh darn good! When my house burned down and we had to go to a hotel with nothing, not even our tooth brushes. It was the church people who took my daughters shopping for new clothes the very next day on their dime. It was a church friend when I had come back to the hotel the day after the fire still wearing my dirty ash stained clothes, to my surprise had dropped off a six pack of new t-shirts and underwear just my size…who thinks of those kinds of things? Church people do! BTW- I did need some fresh undies.

It was a man from church who normally charged 200 plus dollars per hour for consulting, who met with me once a week for several months to give me advice on life and running a business and did not want a single dollar for the time he spent with me.  I guess now they call those folks life coaches. I called him my friend and life mentor.

When our children were born it was the church folk who brought us meals for several weeks, so my wife would not have to endure my cooking – now that’s considerate.

When a terrible tragedy hit my family, it was for course family, but it was also good church folk who were there to help bandage up the emotional hurts and not leave us alone, giving of their selves, time, prayers, and love. Maybe that is the big thing that makes church folks great. In spite of the back stabbing, the gossip, the hurts they will inflict…they also love. I suppose their love is far from perfect but when you’re hurting, imperfect love seems perfect.

Hmm…tomorrow’s Sunday, I think this back stabbing, gossiper, insensitive brute might put on my mask and head to church. Please don’t tell them how bad I am, you see I am afraid if they know who and what I am, they won’t love me.

Oh… yeah I almost forgot the secret….they are all just like me.

Jesus said, "It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick. I have not come to call the righteous, but sinners." Mark 2:17 (New International Version)

Grayquill Musings COMING SOON

Two Christmases ago I put a bunch of my blog posts together and printed a few books. These became Christmas presents for my kids. After that small printing I have been encouraged by some of you, family, and my friend Holly to clean it up and have it published. Holly is a super lady who has worked harder than I could ever have hope for and she has cleaned up my mess.

The last step was to send the book to some friends and have them do a read through to catch any typos. I have been correcting these proof copies over the last couple of weeks. I am getting real close to my goal of the last part of this month to send it to press. I now only need to fix a few formatting issues, then I am ready to send it off.

It has been interesting what bridges I personally have had to cross to get this project to this point. The biggest one is to believe my writing is good enough to put into a book. That critical voice jumped off the bench and gave am several tongue lashings for being so prideful in thinking I am a good enough writer to write anything worthy of going into a book. When critical self was pushed aside with that argument, he came at me from a new angle. ‘You are doing all this work for what? Self publishers never sell any books. No one is going to read your book. This is a poor use of your time.’ I reminded Mr. Critical that I was only watching TV and somehow this effort had to be an improvement.’ That conversation only happened though after a heartfelt talk with my friend Mike who reprimanded me and flooded me with encouragement – Thanks Mike!
I wanted also to give all of you a big thank you in advance for the kind words left to me on this blog. You have been my main source of encouragement. Over and over your kind comments have made my day and added a fun component to my writing - you are the best!

Those negative voices are still present and keep trying to dissuade me, so I would once again appreciate only positive comments on this post. – Thanks in advance.

BTW I am still in a quandary as to what cover would be best. Please give me you feed back. Which one would make you want to open up the cover and see what’s inside? Thanks!

Is it Good or Bad?

It was an evening of grunting, pushing, and pulling. I am getting too old for such nonsense… have I got your curiosity up yet? Well it was really nothing very exciting at all. I was helping my wife move her classroom…I am pretty sure that some union socialist should be pretty mad at me about now. Think of the all the pay I deprived him/her of. All that rule breaking didn’t come without a cost though. Aches and pains have been punishing me for several days.

On a brighter note or maybe a sadder note, depending how you look at it, this could be good or bad. I bought a new old car and I have been holding my head up high like a proud peacock driving around town and that has been good; no that’s bad because it was only because my pride wouldn’t let me drive my old beat up truck anymore; somehow thinking a 57 year old guy should have something better to drive was just plain prideful and that’s bad; no that’s good because in spite of the pride the old truck needed a rest and you have allowed it to live a few more months or years and that’s good; no that’s bad because now I have to pay insurance on something that is almost dead and that I will rarely drive and that’s bad, no that’s good because not driving the old truck will give you a sense of being green making the old truck last longer and that’s good; no that’s bad because your yard is looking like a used car lot with an old beat up truck sitting off in a corner and that’s bad; no that’s good because now there is another place that doesn’t need mowing and that’s good; no that’s bad because the grass will probably die there and that’s bad; no that’s good because it was mostly just weeds there any way and if the weeds die that will be good; no that’s bad because some day you will move the truck to go fishing or to the dump and there will be nothing but a bare muddy place in the yard where you might slip and break your leg and that will be bad; no that’s good because if I break my leg I won’t have to go to the dump and that’s good; no that’s bad because old trucks need to be useful now and then just to keep their feelings intact and not driving it might break the old girls heart and that will be bad, no that’s good because by not driving the old girl you won’t come to realize how old, saggy and sad your old truck really is and then you will want to buy a new perky truck and that will cost a lot of money and be very very bad….oh!

New Blog in Town

There’s a new blog in town. Check it out. "Vegans in Love"
In spite of their veganism it is full of fun energy. Luna and Darcy are unique, creative, fun, and dear to old Grayquill’s heart. 
Give them a shout out of welcome and encouragement.
Thanks in advance!

Taming of the Shrew

Oh bother...I have to take a break from my morning coffee..... I have a live shrew in my living room –UGH! Wait a minute this can't be all bad. My cat can finally be useful. I grabbed the cat put his focus on the small intruder and set myself down to watch his handy work. That pathetic cat only wanted to watch it scurry from corner to corner and gingerly bat at it to make it scurry here and there. Lucky for me little shrews can't see too well and he didn't head for the under part of my couch like a mouse would have. Realizing quickly my cat was useless; I hoped I could at least leave the cat in charge long enough to fetch my favorite mouse/shrew killer, my long handled wire brush. Upon my return trip from the garage the cat had let the shrew escape – I  gotta get a real cat someday! The cat was at least useful in letting me know where the four legged, pointy nosed critter was hiding. The little guy had taken refuge under a throw pillow that was sitting squarely on my white carpet and leaning up against my couch - Yikes! - Not a good place to use my mouse killer. In my best shrew pillow lift a flick with the smooth wood part of my brush sent the cute little guy sliding sideways for a tumbling ride onto the hardwood floor. The drama had now left the living room and was cleanly into the open of my dining room floor. The shrew must have known the one act show was coming to an end because when he took his bow my wire brush impaled him square on the head. No blood - just instant death. With the show over my needle nose pliers gave him a ride back from whence he came, into the brush beyond the flower beds. Gee, all that excitement before 7:30. What will this day entail? I am so excited with anticipation!

This Could Be Very Very Bad...

There is a character in the news lately, maybe you have heard about him. He is predicting that without a shadow of doubt Jesus is coming back on May 21^st, at 6:00 pm and all Jesus's true followers will be taken.

This gentleman has a radio program in my area and I can listen to him on my drive home from work. This fellow is no youngster, in fact he has lived a good long time, 89 years. I confess my motivation for listening to him does not come from a pure place. He is an enigma, an oddity, a curiosity… Having spent most of my life in or around the Christian community I have either heard or read about people like this but I have never actually heard one speak myself. The program is not all that much different than listening to one of my right wing radio commentators except this poor fellow has trouble getting excited. It is impressive that at age 89 he can do a radio program at all, let alone a live call in program. I will say, he sure does have it over Air America and those progressives, if you want boring and unoriginal, listen to 1090 AM (Seattle only). I would think those progressive smarty pants talk show hosts would listen to the right wing hosts now and then just for a lesson or two on how to entertain.  

Back to our dooms day radio host - Someone said, maybe he just decided that May 21^st would be his retirement date. I liked that idea mainly because I didn’t want to think the old guy had lost his marbles. After listening to him, I believe he really does believe his own words. The real tragedy is he seems to have a following and maybe he hasn’t lost his marble but those who are doing the following I have questions about.

The one bright spot of this story is the Atheists have started a service, if you are a May 21^st person, for a mere $125.00 an Atheist will come to your house on May 22^nd and pickup and provide a home for your pet – Pretty smart. I wish I had thought of that.

I feel a bit sorry for the old guy – when the 22^nd rolls around and he is still here, will he have a stroke or heart attack? This build up has been the man’s life work. Imagine the shock to his system when he realizes his life work was for naught – that is sadder than sad and at 89 years old who knows if his system will be able to handle it.

The fact that people believe this guy should not surprise me. I remember the Y2K hysteria, presently we have the global warming hysteria, and in the past we had the nuclear war hysteria. In all cases there were many who looked forward to these predicted tragedies and had a measure of disappointment when they did not happen. Heck I am not excluded from the masses. I remember an assignment in middle school where we were to come up with a plan on how we would survive after a nuclear holocaust. I was into it, part of me wanted it to happen just so I could have the adventure. Since then I have learned real adventure is best experienced from a book sitting in an easy chair.

BTW - Just in case our radio friend is right, could you tell a cheap atheist to call me – I have a cat but there is no way I am paying $125.00.

606 words for this post – Whew…when I first looked at it I thought it said 666.

Taking an Older Brother Fishing

Every life experience either teaches us something or gives us a clearer view of ourselves. Self judgments often rise up and fall into the haze of these experiences. Who is to say what the value of each experience really is, but as time marches on we compile a complex assortment of experiences that make us who we are and what we are. Now and then an experience catches me off guard and my reaction will surprise me.

For five years I have ask my GLB (Great Liberal Brother) to come along on a nine day fishing trip I take each April. I have been criticized by many for my timing of this trip because the fishing is tough, the weather is unpredictable, the water is cold and even a month later all conditions improve drastically. As an example, on these trips we may experience snow, sleet, soft rain, hard sideways rain, pelting rain, wind without rain, below freezing cold, and wonderfully now and then that wonderful weather – sunshine with no wind.  So, why April you ask, it is simple, few people are there. The regular fishing season that brings the throngs of folks from far and near that suffocates the area starts the last weekend of April and I do my best to avoid the spectacle.

When my brother told me he was coming this year, a pressure began to build in my subconscious. He would be traveling over 2,500 miles at a significant cost and time. As you all know I have a tendency to embellish a story now and then.  I wouldn’t admit to outright exaggerating or straight out lying but you all know most of our stories are really not that interesting unless certain parts are given a floral sparkle. So as you read on about my neurosis and begin to think I am crazy, my defense will be, it’s floral sparkle.

As I prepared for this trip along with my GLB’s attendance, my mind rushed back trying to exhume past renditions of these trips that I had told my GLB. That is the trouble with stories in the past, they are so hard to remember, let alone the floral sparkle. I guess the real question is, what was my GLB’s expectation? Expectations as you know can be fatal and at a minimum lead to real disappointment.

Naturally I ask myself, what would Michael Scott from the “Office” do in such a situation? I could not come up for certainty his exact response so I pulled from past Grayquill efforts to get out of a fix and that was equally useless. Granted I did not know if I was in a fix but one can never be too careful – right? Lowering expectations for sure seemed prudent. That thought resulted in a phone call to GLB. Which I did with much flagrant exaggeration about frost bite, drowning, and wild animal attacks.  If I do say so myself I did a pretty good job of causing my brother to have second thoughts about coming but I figured he had already bought the plane ticket and was pretty much locked in.  Next, I blasted off an email to him with a list of clothing and how to keep from freezing to death, which he thanked me for several times!

May I add one more thing to the mix adding to the pressure? This might actually be the crux of the neurosis, my GLB is seven years older than me. All past experiences with him for the most part have been times when he has been in charge. He was now coming on MY fishing trip! Do you get it? I was not sure I knew how to be in charge when my older brother was in attendance. Afraid, you ask? Yeah, I guess that emotion covers it. There is a great comfort when someone else is in charge. Are you relating yet? Well catch up with me. When someone else is in charge, YOU OR I are not responsible, the one in charge is.  THAT’S BIG!!  You see on this trip I was going to be responsible for so many decisions, first where we are going, the weather (that hardly seems fair – who can control the weather), the quality of fishing (that hardly seems fair – I can’t make fish bite – Oh yes I can, I forgot), what we eat (that hardly seems fair – I don’t really know what he likes to eat), and on and on it built right along with my neurosis.

All that you have read so far was not wisdom that flashed before me the instant I knew he was coming. It took some stewing, some fermenting before it formed into actual cognitive worries. The whole lowering expectation thing did not really come into clear focus until about three weeks before our trip when panic was beginning to set in. Up to that point my subconscious was running me up and down rabbit trails skirting the real issue. I knew I needed to tie up some more flies – after all I had promised fly fishing – and I had been busy. Weeks earlier I started looking though my boxes of flies, none of them looked good enough to offer an older brother. I decided I needed to tie all new flies for my brother and myself. They must be pristine, top quality because who wants an older brother telling others, he traveled all the way out west for a nine day fly fishing trip just to be given crappy flies to fish with. Certainly not me!

I know this all sounds a little or a lot neurotic but get over it, it’s me, Grayquill.  So, tying flies was a nightly occurrence for six weeks. By and by I finally had over 300 new flies tied but not all were pristine – sigh. The trip came and went – the lowering expectation thing was hugely successful. My brother caught fish and he didn’t freeze to death; he even said he has the trip on his schedule for next year.

I have heard that it is emotionally healthy to not worry about what others think about you. As a parent I spent considerable breath trying to convince my children to not let others opinions rule their behavior. I also use to tell them if I am not a good example be sure I am a good bad example. As I sit here looking up the road toward sixty I suppose I am not going to get much better than I am right now. So, for now it seems this neurosis thing is something I can use to push me to tie more flies and that’s gotta be good – right?

I apologize for making this piece all about me but I suppose you understand how it couldn’t have been any other way.