John's Online Journal

2010-03-08T19:46:00.001-06:00

New Location for John's Online Journal

This blog is moving, the new URL is:

http://johnstrain.net

See you there,
John Strain

2010-03-05T11:18:00.002-06:00

New Blog Coming Soon

I have not given up on posting to a blog regularly. I have said similar things before only to follow them up with more promises. This time, I am going to make a clean sweep. I have decided to move this blog to Square Space. It is a great platform that gives a lot of control of the appearance of the blog along with many bells and whistles far beyond my own technical ability.

That move should give me the umph I need to get back in the saddle, back in the batter's box, insert your own metaphor here.

The long break has given my creative juices a chance to rekindle, regenerate, morph, insert your own adjective here - morph is a verb though so insert a verb if it suits you.

I hope to get the new look up this weekend.

Until the next time
John Strain

2009-10-28T04:47:00.000-05:00

Finding Meaning

I find meaning in life one day at a time. It comes through simple things like a cup of coffee, a wagging tail, a friend laughing at a dumb joke, and so much more. It comes from an attitude of appreciating what you have instead of longing for what you do not have and complaining about what you did not want. Life is too short to devote time to anger, resentment, and hate. Be thankful for health, friends, and natural beauty. Study history to give yourself a sense of perspective. Learn of the sacrifices those before us made to make our life better. Then try to make the world a better place for those to follow. Thank God for your unique life and live it with careful attention, enthusiasm, and gratitude.

Until the next time,
John Strain

2009-09-09T21:53:00.002-05:00

Testing

Testing . . . testing . . . Is this thing on? Testing 1 . . 2 . . 3. Hi everyone. I have not stopped blogging. This post proves it. Me, Bear, and the family are doing well. I will soon catch things up. I promise.

Until the next time
John Strain

2009-03-19T21:54:00.001-05:00

George Wesley Strain, Sr.
January 31, 1925 - March 19, 2009

My dad and I at the Grand Canyon 1967

My father died today. I received a phone call from my brother George about 6:00 PM. Dad has been failing. He has been losing weight and becoming very frail. His wife Nola said she went to bed last night and Dad said he wanted to sit up and watch some more television. When she woke up in the morning, Dad had not come to bed. He was still in his chair and appeared to be sleeping. Eventually she went to wake him up and realized he had died. He passed peacefully in his recliner. I am assuming a remote control was nearby.

Unfortunately, I have not been very involved with my father since I left home to go to college. The reasons are not important, but there was no friction, animosity, or any ill will between us; we just went in different directions. I saw him occasionally. He attended my wedding and my son's high school graduation. We saw him in Kansas City when we would visit, but it was minimal.

Dad had a new family and was involved with them. I had my family and time had a sneaky fast way of moving.

I last spoke to him on his birthday January 31st. We had a good conversation as we always did.

When he visited us in Louisiana for John's high school graduation in 2003, I interviewed him on video. I have him talking about his life and telling the stories in his own voice. This is very valuable now.

I loved my father and admired him. He was always around. I remember coming home from school to find him in his chair reading the paper, or sitting at the kitchen table drinking coffee, or in the summer, walking around the yard sipping a cold can of beer. Dad was handy around the house. If he did not know how to do something, he found out how and tackled the job, not always with professional results as to appearance, but usually close enough, as it relates to function.

Some of my early memories of him were when I was in kindergarten. Dad's day off was on Wednesday. On that day, he and my mother would pick me up at school. I can still see him in my mind's eye wearing his light colored overcoat and standing in the hall waiting for my class to end. I remember the day he took me to the store to purchase my first baseball glove. I remember the pinewood derby car we built together for cub scouts that won second place. Now that I am a father, I know he must have been pretty proud of himself for that feat.

Dad was pretty easy going. He had a temper, but I could bring that out in people. I was not afraid of my father and I cannot remember any problems between us. He was not the best at expressing his feelings. I may get some of that from him. He was there though and he gave me the gift of time, from being a scout leader to helping me fix a go cart.

From a small town in Missouri, high school basketball player, Army Air Corps, working on mail trains, letter carrier - before "going postal" was a term, father of 3, scout master, dry humor, happy most of the time, loved by many, known by more. Going to the grocery store with my dad to get a loaf of bread could take two hours, because he knew everyone in town. He could have a conversation with a statue.

I do not really know how I feel right now. It is a shock. I feel sad. I feel guilt that I did not go see him more or call him more. But, I mostly feel grateful that I had him for a dad. I like my life and my son has turned out pretty well; I have to give my father some credit, because he was my father model to learn from.

Another member of the "Greatest Generation" has moved on, this one was my father and it is going to leave a hole in my heart.

Here's to you Dad. I'll miss you, but I'll see you again before you know it.

Until the next time,
John Strain

2009-02-18T21:49:00.001-06:00

Post op

Hi Gang,
The knee surgery went just fine. The doc said he trimmed off a bit of the torn meniscus. He thinks it is fixed and I will have a full recovery. I have been keeping it propped up and on ice - per doctor orders. I have not used any of the Hydrocodone yet. The pain is not bad at all. I have been taking Tylenol instead.

The photo shows my setup: TV, dog, leg propped up - I think I can weather this storm.

Until the next time and thanks for the prayers - I know you did.
John Strain

2009-02-15T22:32:00.001-06:00

Olympia Parade 2009

Hi Everyone, it's me Bear!

Boy, did I have fun on Valentines Day. Not only that, but a parade came by our house too. I never saw a parade before. I always had to stay at the house because they don't allow dogs. I think some dog bit someone once and now no dogs get to go to parades. It is always one joker that spoils it for the rest of us. He was probably a pit bull.

Here are some pictures of the fun. Usually, the parade passes by two blocks away, but this year they changed the route. That meant we had to have a party; and a party we had.

This is a picture of me in the truck; my vantage point for the parade. Daddy tied me in so I wouldn't jump out and get lost. See I got a football and some beads.

Daddy took this picture from our front yard. Everyone is watching the parade, but I am watching daddy.

See my beads? I didn't have them all night though, a cute little french poodle came by and I gave them to her.

We had Mr. Marty's trailer hooked up to John's truck. Trailers work like reviewing stands. The blue cup on the bumper of the truck is daddy's drink.

In this picture, I have my ball again. John is in the truck swinging a thing around. The girl in the pink is Mandy, his girlfriend.

This is a picture of my mama and daddy.

I sure had fun at the parade, but I really liked after the parade because there were hot dogs, chili, jambalaya, hamburgers, chips, king cake, and lots of other good things.

Everyone had a good time, especially me. The Mardi Gras day parade is coming by our house too, so we will do all of this all over again a week from Tuesday. I bet daddy will take pictures then too.

Well, that's my report on the Olympia Parade. I hope you enjoyed it.

Bye for now,
Bear

2009-01-31T08:11:00.001-06:00

Under the knife

On December 30, 2006 I completed a 20-mile run in preparation for an upcoming marathon. I had a busy race schedule planned into the spring and had prepaid several events. My groin thought otherwise. Insert your favorite joke here about pulling a groin. My favorite is the ESPN commentators quick quip whenever mentioning the always laughed at body part. "Today, in a game against the whoevers, so and so pulled a groin - pause for dramatic affect - I hope it was his." It is very important to say, "So and so pulled A groin and not HIS groin." Otherwise the joke would not work.

Anyway, that kept me from running. I was healing up slowly and by Memorial Day, I was beginning to build up my running again. I thought I was back on the road. Since I was not running a lot, I had time for other things, like fixing a big bare spot in the yard resulting from heavy foot traffic and dragging dead tree parts from Katrina the August before.

I took a day off of work so I would have a four-day weekend to lay the sod. Incidentally, were I to say "lay the sod" in England, any self-respecting lady and most gentlemen would feel compelled to slap me.

I worked like a hard working dog. Man, that is hard work. The hard part was the prep. I tilled and pushed and pulled dirt around in a vain attempt to level the landscape. I will level with you, I got pretty close. Once the sod arrives, one needs to move quickly to get it down and watered in. I had no help, because my usual buds had legitimate excuses. John was probably in the south of France, the Virgin Islands, or just hiding out.

As I look back, there was an instance where I was carrying a load of the grass and as I stepped with my right foot, I hit some uneven ground giving my knee a bit of a twist. My foot remained stationary and the knee was wrenched sideways a bit. I heard a pop and felt pain, but it went away and I did not give it any more thought.

When I went back to running, both of my knees were sore, so I thought it was related to the sod laying, sorry mate. Anyway, my left knee healed, but the right knee did not.

I went to the doctor in August. That is almost 3 months of RICE, Rest, Ice, Compression, and Elevation. I read things on the Internet, I took glucosamine, used weights for strengthening, you name it, I did it to get fixed. The doctor said it was probably nothing. X-Rays were negative so I should just take it easy and it would heal.

It did not heal.

I kept running like the doctor said to do, but never any improvement. I could run a couple of miles without pain, but the knee would hurt the rest of the day, especially if I had been sitting down a long time.

I went back to the doctor a year later, July 2008. This time, I stopped running a couple of weeks before seeing him. I felt great at the appointment. Fresh X-Rays were still negative and he told me to come back when I had a problem. I began running and the pain returned.

So in January I returned to the orthopedist, but this time he ordered an MRI. It revealed a slight tear in the medial meniscus. The remedy is arthroscopic surgery to either fix the tear or remove the affected tissue.

Surgery is set for February 18th and in a few weeks; I should be back on the road. I should be as good as new, because the tear is minor and the rest of the knee is fine.

Forgive me Father for I have sinned. It has been two years since my last marathon. . .

Until the next time
John Strain

2009-01-23T07:38:00.004-06:00

Time and Memories

I made a "year end" video that is 55 minutes long. That process of making it gave me an idea for another video that appears below. I went through all of the video tapes I had eclipsing 22 years. I then took short clips from them and added an aged film filter to the video to give it that "vintage" look.

Here it is: Time and Memories.

It is hard to believe the first month is almost over.

Until the next time
John Strain

2008-12-21T20:03:00.003-06:00

Moving on

Check out more graduation photos here.

My son John graduated from LSU with a BS in Psychology on Friday. I have been so caught up in paying for it, managing the loans, and trying to get him out of school, I never took time to reflect on it.

I was happy for John, but I was surprised by the feeling of accomplishment I felt. Barbara and I have managed to get him through school. College graduates earn about double what a high school graduate makes. By earning a degree, John is in the top 25% of the US population. We have given him a pretty good start.

As I sat in the stands watching the procession of graduates walk across the platform, receive their degree, shake hands with the head of the university, pose for a photo, and walk down the stairs, I had the same feeling I get standing at the finish line of a marathon. The look of accomplishment on faces is written with ear to ear smiles. Such a pure vision of joy and I was privileged to see it.

John has passed another mile marker in his life. He will move from student to the bottom of the corporate ladder. New challenges beckon. I have little doubt that they will be met, struggled with, and conquered.

Here’s to accomplishment and may it become a habit.

Until the next time
John Strain

2008-12-01T14:22:00.000-06:00

Party's over

The bad thing about good times is they have to end. It was nice having the family down here in Louisiana. It has been a long time since they were here. It was fun and we managed a little side trip to the French Quarter and a tour of some of the Katrina damage. Of course, we all gained a few pounds, but family gatherings are no time for diets.

By now, we are all back in our own corners of the world.

Here is a photo Marc snapped when we paused for a few drinks at Margaritaville. (click for a larger version).

Mom, Me, Becky, and Barbara

If you want to see more photos from our get-together, you can find them HERE

I hope your holiday was a nice one and let me wish you an early Merry Christmas.

Until the next time
John Strain

2008-11-22T11:34:00.001-06:00

Bakers dozen

A testament of my clutter problem

A gratuitous photo of Bear

Hello, my name is John and I am a "clutterholic." There I said it. Step One is to admit I have a problem and that I am powerless and my life has become unmanageable.

Who needs 13 pillows in the bottom of their closet? Not me anymore. There is a voice in my head saying, “Everything must go. All decisions are final.” Then another voice, somewhere else in my head says, "There is nothing wrong with those pillows. They can be used for something. If you throw them away, you will need them some day and then you won't have them."

Insert Charlie Brown utterance of frustration loudly here: ARRRRGGGGHHHHHH!!!!!!

I have gathered clutter into large piles. Mountains of boxes, plastic containers (originally purchased to organize clutter), plastic bags, and loose items that do not lend themselves to any container system of which I am aware.

I have moved the piles from one room to another. They have sat. Then I moved them to the shed, to the attic, and now under the carport. Why do the thieves not steal it all and rid me of my nightmare? Must I deal with my own problem? Is there no way out short of dealing directly with the situation?

Crickets sound goes here.

I take it then that I must follow some of the advice I dish out at the clinic. I get paid to tell people things I could do better myself, like just do it. Don't tell anyone, I have an image to maintain.

My lungs are coated with ancient dust from boxes and things I just let pile up, because I figured life without IT would not be as good.

I am at the place where the guy in the Bible was. He had the good fortune to have more stuff than he had house for, or in his case, barn for. Then he got an idea, "Hey, I'll just build another barn." Unfortunately for him, his idea was motivated by selfishness. It did not end well in for him.

I am not going to build a bigger shed, although the thought did cross my mind. Nope, I am going to liquidate. If the economy is doing it, why not me?

I have a zillion books, college and seminary class notes, school work going back to the first grade, trinkets, toys, and memories from my childhood, Barbara's childhood, and my son's childhood which is technically still going on.

It all amounts to a lot of stuff. When I consider the pile, I reach in my pocket for a match to deal with the problem. It is when I hold an item and turn it over in my heart and my mind. The nostalgia rises and tossing said item becomes tantamount to throwing away that memory. To throw away a letter my mother wrote is like putting a piece of her in the trash. So you can see, that kind of thinking does not result in clutter pile reduction.

I did have an idea though. I could take a few pieces of paper from the first grade work and get rid of the rest. I could even scan some things and trash the originals. Digital files take up much less room.

Perhaps in a few days I can write a post of victory. Time will tell and so will I.

Until the next time
John Strain

2008-11-10T20:51:00.003-06:00

Some gave all

Happy Veterans Day and a special thank you to you Vets.

I have talked about Justin McLeese before. He was a local boy who died in Iraq on November 13, 2004. My previous posts about him and some other Veterans Day writings can be found HERE.

Justin's Hero Card

I think about Justin quite often. The church where his funeral was held is on my route to and from the gym. On my way home in the morning it is usually about 6:00 AM and the church bells are ringing. For some reason, they toll for about 15 minutes. It always brings to my mind memories of that day, followed closely by a simple prayer and a feeling of gratitude.

How we breeze through our days taking for granted what we should value as treasure. We must take time to reflect on those who gave their all in order for us to have no fear of harm. Some gave all.

Freedom has its price and many pay the price willingly so we can bask in its warmth. Some gave all.

The sentiment in the movie "Saving Private Ryan," was to honor the ultimate sacrifice by doing something good with your life. What a wonderful gift we enjoy. May we all look into the mirror and ask ourselves the question, "Am I honoring their sacrifice by the way I am living?"

I hope we are.

To all the veterans and their families, to the price they have paid - Thank you.

Until the next time
John Strain

2008-11-08T15:24:00.003-06:00

Home sweet home

Hi Everyone, it's me Bear,
My mama went to India, but now she is home. I think I'll just sit here and guard her for a while as she sleeps.

My mama helped little children while she was in India.

Bye and Love,
Bear

2008-11-06T21:53:00.001-06:00

Dear Barbara (Part 4)

I missed your call this morning. I had my phone by the computer and I was listening to my iPod while using the sink at the bar. I thought I heard something, but it never dawned on me it was my phone. When I walked over to the computer, I noticed I had a voicemail. I hated to miss talking to you. You sounded a bit down or maybe you were just tired. By the sound of things, you all have been seeing an enormous amount of people.

If you are not tired now, you will be. As I write this at 9:45 PM Thursday, it is 9:15 AM on Friday for you. After you work, you have a 1:00 AM flight to catch out of New Deli. So after flying 13 hours you will land in Chicago at 5:00 AM. Time will seem like it is standing still. If all goes right, you will go onto Houston and then land in New Orleans at 12:30 PM. You will need to take a nap, because we are planning on going out to eat with friends.

I have been cleaning. You won't know our room. It is almost completely decluttered and thoroughly cleaned. I vacuumed tonight and I am going to get LJ to clean the bathrooms tomorrow. Then all I will have to finish is some dusting, clean up the kitchen a bit, and mop. A woman's work is never done.

John and I ate at WOW tonight. Bear says hi again. He just polished off his evening treat.

We are looking forward to your return and hearing all about the trip.

Until the next time
Love, John

2008-11-04T06:49:00.001-06:00

Dear Barbara (Part 3)

It is Election Day here. John and I are going to vote later on. I am helping him with his paper.

The LSU game was fun. Brian, John, Jonathan, his friend Luke, and I went to Baton Rouge about 3:00 in the afternoon. We grilled steaks at Kevin’s apartment. John and the boys went to the game. For one reason, the boys wanted to soak up the Tiger Stadium atmosphere and see the band come in. For another reason, Kevin had two cats and John was beginning to feel his head close up.

Sitting behind us was a few rows up was a little girl, probably 4 years old. She was dressed as an LSU cheerleader complete with pom poms. She was very cute anyway, but she had skills. The little girl did the cheers the big cheerleaders were doing. Her dad would even lift her in the air at the right times and she would strike the appropriate pose. I would be shocked if she isn’t on the sidelines for real someday. She is destined to be an LSU cheerleader.

I am finding it is time consuming to be a single parent. I did not get the time to write on Sunday, what with shopping and washing three loads of clothes. While I was washing clothes, I tackled some of the clutter areas in our bedroom. My section of the dresser and top drawer have been cleaned up nicely.

I also got rid of all of the stuff by the closet. We have a lot more floor space now. Part of that mess, was the sock basket. I matched socks for a long time and now I have gillions of new socks. There are still a lot of mismatches and they may wind up in the trash. At any rate, it looks a lot better.

Yesterday evening, I hit the Tupperware drawer. I hate that drawer. I never can find a container and its matching lid quickly enough, and then it is hard to close, which makes it difficult to open. Part of the solution was better organizing and stacking like containers, but the other thing that needed to be done was to remove about half of the contents.

At work yesterday, I was bragging to the girls about washing clothes and grocery shopping. It was fun to be able to share stories of domestic servitude with them. I told them how I was buying brands different than you usually get, just for a change. For instance, bread, I got some rye bread. I also bought some different apples – pretty green ones. As I was telling my tale to Monette in the break room, I was carving one of them. I started eating it and it was really tart. Monette asked me what kind of an apple it was. "I don't know," I said and passed her the little sticker. She told me that it was a Granny Smith apple and those apples were usually used for cooking - not eating. I ate it anyway and told her I thought it was good. She was telling maybe I should have stuck to the usual brands. I tried to defend myself, but I got that look mothers give their children. The look that says, I will be polite and listen to you, but you are so pitifully wrong it isn’t even funny. I just liked the green for a change.

John and I ate at Outback on Sunday and Monday night we ate at the Mexican place that used to be BJ's Pizza. I think Marty will be coming over tonight to watch the election results.

Everybody asks about you. We miss you. I haven't heard anything from you since your text message on Sunday. By now you are well into your work with the Dalits. I hope it is going well.

Well, I need to get the coffee going, walk the dog, and get on with the day.

Until the next time
Love, John

2008-11-01T09:01:00.002-05:00

Dear Barbara (Part 2)

Barbara is the second from the left

I watched the little plane make its way to India and got the email confirming you all landed safely. I'll bet it felt good to get to the hotel and rest. Since then, you have had a whole day and it is about 8 in the evening in India as I write.

Friday here was typical as far as work is concerned. A few people wore Halloween garb. They tried to get me to wear a wig, but I was afraid I would get used to having hair and then it would be hard returning to bald reality, ha. I extolled my repertoire of Halloween jokes and got the usual laughs. I even pulled out my "House where the weenie dogs live" poem.

Once home in the evening, I hurried to take Bear for his walk in anticipation of the trick or treaters. John came in after coaching basketball practice. He was going with the gang to the block party. He dropped me at the Murphy's on his way. Joe and Linda went with us to Boston Street. Of course we sat around talking politics before leaving. It was the usual good time.

I received a voice mail from Elna. She said everything was fine and you all were on your way to the Taj Mahal. I hate I missed the call. When I said to chip off a piece of the Taj Mahal to bring me for a souvenir, I hope you knew I was kidding. If not, let me know and I will see if the US embassy can help you get out of jail.

John left a few minutes ago to go to New Orleans for their scrimmage. He lost his game the other night by one point. He was disappointed because his team led the whole way until a buzzer beater at the end.

I am probably going to go to the gym and work out. Later, Brian and I are going to the LSU v Tulane game at Tiger Stadium. Faye may go with us and we will all meet at Kevin's and grill steaks before the game. Kevin and Robin are going to the game too.

Guess what? There is an Apple Store in Metairie now at the Lakeside Mall. Maybe we'll eventually get one on the North Shore.

Bear is fine. He is taking his medicine like a good boy. He says “Hi.” He is watching me right now trying to will me to his leash so we can go for his walk.

I hope you are having fun and that you are writing down your experiences. We are eager to hear about what you are doing,

Until the next time
Love, John

2008-10-30T20:40:00.005-05:00

Dear Barbara

Barbara has gone to Lucknow, India on a medical mission trip with our church. They are trying to help a group of people known as the Dalits. Although the caste system in India is no longer legal according to their constitution, it still dominates Indian society. Dalits are outcasts - lower than the lowest caste. They are considered untouchables and even if their shadow falls on an upper caste individual, that individual is considered polluted. These are very oppressed people. Barbara is going to be assisting the mission in various ways. They are going to touch the untouchables.

Some Links:
Dalit Freedom Network

A must see video
The untouchable kids of India

Dear Barbara,
It is Thursday evening here in Covington. I just checked Flyte.com and you just left Chicago. Your plane is at 4000 feet and traveling 220 MPH. Only 13 hours and 31 minutes to go. Knowing how you hate to fly, this is the worst part of the trip for you. No doubt, talking to your fellow travelers will distract you from your fear. I am sure you are excited - you are finally on your way.

I got home at the usual time. I took Bear outside to off load some water and I threw the ball for him a few times. Once inside, the usual routine of munching on a few Pringles and plopping in front of Fox news followed. Since I went out for lunch, I ate the lunch I packed for supper, a sandwich and a box of raisins. Real exciting stuff, huh.

It was dark when I walked Bear and I listened to my Patric O'Brian novel along the way. John is coaching his first basketball game at St. Pauls and he is excited about that.

At work, I told them that you left for India today. Someone asked me why you were going to India? I said, "Because she figures it is about as far away from me as she could get without leaving earth." Of course, I was rewarded with laughter.

I am going to write down these mundane things each day, so when you come home or if you are fortunate enough to get on the Internet once in India, you won't have missed anything.

We miss you already, but we are proud of what you are doing. If anyone can transcend a language barrier to convey heartfelt love it is you.

I just checked the computer and noticed that you are cruising at 31,000 feet and 570 mph. There is a graphic of a little plane on a world map – pretty neat.

God Bless,

Until the next time,
John

2008-10-25T10:24:00.001-05:00

An autumn post

It is a beautiful autumn day here in Covington. The contrast of the azure sky against the green oak leaves illumined by the morning sun is breath taking. The air has that fall crispness and the grass is cool and dew laden. Squirrels scamper in the overhead canopy and the result is pieces of acorns and pecan shells hitting the ground like a light hail storm. It is otherwise quiet. The sounds of man take a back seat to the ancient ever present sounds of nature. It is refreshing and enlivening. I could not imagine any drug or vitamin matching the deep feeling of awe and gratitude all of this stirs within me. It is a sense that I have tapped into what is real. It has always been here in some form and long after my life is over, it will continue.

OK, this post is about to head to the more superficial. LSU hosts the Georgia Bull Dogs at 2:30 PM. Say what you will, but what would fall be like without the soundtrack of a football game. The buzz of the crowd and the descriptive conversation of the commentators? Bear will be dressed in his LSU collar / scarf combo modeled above.

Have you ever heard of a singer named Eva Cassidy? Her music is whimsical, soft, folk, and acoustic. She died in 1996 of cancer at the age of 36. She was an artist as well. Her niche was to sing other people's songs, yet her interpretation was often better than the original piece. Check her out on iTunes. A few of my favorites are: "Who knows where the time goes," "Somewhere over the rainbow," "Kathy's song," and "Somewhere." If you would like to see her art, you can see it here: Eva's Art.

On her art website, each print or piece has a blurb to explain the occasion or motivation, if known, of her creating it. For instance, the photo to the right has this explanation:

According to her mother, Eva drew this picture in 1991, to be used as labels for honey jars Eva gave to family & friends - to help brighten their winters! On each label, Eva included the words, "Eva's Sun Elixir" in gold letters. The original is now in the home of her parents.

It is strange to come across someone like Eva. I like her work, but she is already gone. She left beauty behind her. What a legacy to have - to know that your time on earth resulted in leaving positive marks on it. She only expressed what was in her. It was given up for anyone who would take the time to enjoy. For those who do so are enriched.

In this time of "gotcha politics" and focusing on what makes us different, appreciating something because it is pretty or because it is a sweet sound is a welcome diversion.

I have said it before, there is much more about all of us that is the same than there is different. The different can be interesting and mind stretching if we were to approach each other with a spirit of love and openness. Instead of looking for enemies we could be fellow sojourners through life.

Yeah but.

Why not?

Until the next time,
John Strain

2008-09-11T21:51:00.001-05:00

Good luck Texas

My prayers are with you my Texas friends. If you need help in the aftermath of this storm, I hope I can provide some.
Until the next time
John Strain

2008-09-03T23:55:00.003-05:00

Power is onIt has only been two and a half days, but our power is back on. What a luxury to see when it is dark outside. I really think it would do everyone some good to live without power and predictable certainty for a few days every now and then. In my case, lack of something only increases my appreciation of it.

Life is good, even when the power is out.

Until the next time
John Strain

2008-09-03T06:54:00.002-05:00

Camping out

I spent yesterday raking the yard and piling up about a zillion leaves and sticks. No major limbs or trees this time. We did drive around the area in search of gas. There is significant damage. Trees down and some trees on houses.

Fortunately, we were spared the mass devastation, but the entire area is without power and it will be weeks before humpty dumpty is patched up. Here in Covington, they predict 5 -7 days before power is restored. The area affected is vast and much of Louisiana. I have been impressed with Governor Jindal's handling of the event.

This time they are more strict about people returning home. They want to give people who are working on infrastructure time to work without having interference. It makes a bigger mess to repopulate the area before you can buy gas and groceries. Today in Covington, however, you can do both.

I have not returned to work yet. No power at the clinic. All I have to do is call into the administrative office and check in.

OK, I have to feed the pup, walk the pup, then go hook up my neighbor's generator to power his freezer, because he is stuck in Alabama somewhere.

We are safe, sound, and camping out.

Until the next time
John Strain

2008-09-02T06:48:00.002-05:00

Seeking normal

It is still raining and blustery much like it was yesterday before the storm moved in. The house is hot and sticky with the un-air conditioned air. The generator drones on outside our kitchen and I am listening to the non-stop radio coverage.

Extension cords are running from my kitchen window around the corner to the den on one run and to our bedroom on the other run. I thought I had them out of the way, but Barbara fell over one last night. Two sore knees, but no permanent damage. The yard is strewn with limbs, many of them gnarly and sharp. Oaks are notorious shin scrapers. The yard will have to be raked to get them. I picked a few up when I had Bear out earlier. One stick must have been in an ant hill, because they got me.

I heard from work and I am supposed to report back tomorrow. No power or phones in the building. I think power will be restored in a few days. Even with Katrina it was only two weeks, for me.

Up to this point, hurricanes are really "fun." I am not trying to be funny or insensitive. It is the uniting around a common purpose, the sense of urgency and danger, and being with friends and family in an abnormal setting. Very much like snow days I suppose for my northern friends.

Now, the not so fun part is upon us - you pay for your fun. The process is a good way to test your mettle. These things bring out the best and the worst in people.

I am pleased with the leadership this go around. I am also encouraged by the progress made in New Orleans with the flood protection. If they can get it completed before it is destroyed, I think New Orleans will have a high degree of safety.

Now, it is time to get to work. Have a nice day where you are.

Until the next time
John Strain

2008-09-01T18:17:00.002-05:00

Coming back

I fired up the generator at 6 pm. This is one time Katrina came in handy. She provided good training for coping without the usual services. I have Internet, DirecTV - I hooked it back up, lights, and the refrigerator is running. I am thankful. When I finish this post, I am going to fire up the grill and start cooking chicken.

There is a lot of debris around, but nothing like Katrina. I really have a limited perspective at this point.

We are OK. The rain and wind continue to blow through in squalls. It is raining more now than it did during the brunt of the storm. We are still in for some bad weather, but the worst is past.

Until the next time
John Strain

2008-09-01T11:39:00.002-05:00

Power gone

At 11:34 am the odds caught up with us. I am posting this from my iPhone. Intensity is increasing. Near half way - I hope.
John

2008-09-01T04:45:00.002-05:00

Fashionably late

Gustav is showing some kindness thus far. I had another night of sleep in the AC. I just finished walking Bear and the second pot of coffee is dripping as the first is in a cup next to the computer and in a big thermos.

Last night we had a couple of brief thunderstorms from feeder bands, but they come through quickly. The slightly westward shift may save us from the doom and gloom we were all expecting yesterday. You never know though, we thought we dodged a bullet with Katrina until the levees breached.

Here in Covington, it is blustery and the winds are gaining in intensity. There is a mist or a spray, and brief patches of rain. I was dry coming back from walking the pup, but that is part luck.

I took down my DirecTV dish last night rather than sacrifice it to Mr. G. With power still on, I could watch local news casts on the Internet. If you want to see them, just Google WDSU, WWL TV, or WVUE and New Orleans. Each has a link for their live feed.

We also watched an old movie, Jerry McGwire. That has some funny parts and laughter is good medicine when you are waiting for untold destruction to descend on you.

I am hoping it won't be that bad, but the worst is still to come. I suppose we are as ready as we can be. Thanks again for the thoughts and prayers - they are coming back to you with gratitude.

Until the next time
John Strain

2008-08-31T18:18:00.002-05:00

Thanks in advance

I wish you could have seen the news conference the Louisiana Governor Bobby Jindal just delivered. That man is organized and the preparations that have been done in advance of this storm is incredible. Katrina was a comedy of many failures and I am not going to rehash that or point any blaming fingers.

We have had three years to plan and prepare for another Katrina. Gustav is the latest test. As Governor Jindal spoke, he mentioned state after state and agency after agency that is involved lending a hand to help the folks who are affected by the hurricane.

Texas brought 3, C-130's to transport evacuees. Tennessee, Mississippi, Alabama, Missouri, Oklahoma, and others are sending resources of busses, planes, helicopters, supplies of one kind or another, and teams of search and rescue personnel, police, EMT's and others.

So I want to say thank you in advance, even as I hear the first thunder from approaching feeder bands. America is great because we have people that give and sacrifice.

Thanks folks. Your states are already helping us. We will be there for you when you need us.

Until the next time
John Strain

2008-08-31T05:12:00.002-05:00

Sunday Morning in Covington

Good morning from Covington, LA. Gustav is gaining strength and coming closer than I had planned on yesterday. The situation here is this: Evacuations have been called for for those living south of Interstate 12. I am 3 miles north of Interstate 12. News coverage has been around the clock since yesterday and there has been a steady stream of bad news getting worse.

Worse than Katrina. Gustav is looking like it may impact this area even more severely than Katrina did 3 years ago. The dooms day scenario is playing out for New Orleans and communities along the Gulf Coast, and the coast of Lake Pontchartrain.

Even if the levees hold, the over topping from tidal surge, storm surge, and waves will cause significant flooding. On the north shore of the lake, there could be a rise of 17 feet of water.

The wind will be a factor as well. Now that Gustav is stronger and closer, we will have hurricane force winds. Heavy rain and tornadoes will be added for good measure.

I rode Katrina out at the hospital where I worked. This time, I will be staying at my house. I am a bit concerned about rising water getting into part of my house. There are a few trees within range of the structure, and the wind can always damage the roof or worse.

Today, I will work to secure things around the yard and prepare inside the house. I need to get ready for being without electricity and basic services for a period of time.

Bear is fine and I bought a big bag of food for him yesterday. I need to get him walked just before the real action starts, because I think we may be in for a long storm.

John is back home now. He has one more class to complete before he graduates at LSU, so he will commute. On Friday, we did the U-Haul thing. The house is a bit of a mess with him moving back and with Gustav coming for a visit.

Barbara is here and has been cooking and organizing.

I will keep updating from here as long as I can. Now that I have an iPhone, I hope to have uninterrupted Internet.

For now, it is wait and see.

Until the next time
John Strain

2008-08-30T05:48:00.002-05:00

Gustav

Here we go again. On the third anniversary of Katrina, preparations were being made for another hurricane. The familiar round the clock media coverage, the extra heavy traffic turning routine trips into odysseys, and a palpable general elevated state of tension is making the anniversary more of a reenactment.

Each hurricane is different. Katrina was a near direct hit here in Covington. Luckily for us, the eye passed just to our east. We experienced the greatest damage from northerly winds knocking down trees. Others near the lake were flooded from the rising waters.

Gustav is forecast to move to our west. That puts Covington on the strong side of the hurricane and we are expecting a lot more problems with rising water from the lake ultimately swelling the rivers beyond the limits of their banks. Trees are of concern again. The general thought is many trees were weakened in Katrina and are vulnerable, but I am not an arborist.

Personally, I am not concerned about rising water. Anywhere can flood if the conditions line up just right, rain is what would most likely flood my home. Gustav is expected to slow when he approaches the coast and being on the bad side of the storm could be a problem where heavy sustained rain is concerned.

There are a few trees within range of my house and southerly winds would tip them in that direction. I plan to stay because people are being told to evacuate from south of Interstate 12. I live about 3 miles north of I-12.

There is only so much one can do in preparation and then it is a matter of bracing yourself and riding things out. Once Gustav gets into the gulf, the forecasting gets much more accurate. Monday and Tuesday are expected to be ground zero days.

If you check my archives for this time of year in 2005 you can see all of my Katrina posts. I hope to update in a similar way this go round.

For now, it is time to make a pot of coffee and enjoy the air conditioning while we have electricity. It is time to be grateful for those daily things I have grown so used to.

Until the next time
John Strain

2008-08-19T20:53:00.002-05:00

Why

I was sitting in an inservice with about a dozen or so coworkers from offices around the area. It was a typical training to show us the latest greatest thing. Certainly it would entail more paperwork and the speculation of theory becoming practice was drawing comments from the gung ho to the paranoid.

The questions asked revealed some of the reasons "why" people were there. Forget the fact the training was a requirement. Even when forced to do something, an individual applies a "why am I here?" Perhaps this motivation is not a conscious thing, but it drives us. It is the difference between an open mind and a burned out grump.

I contemplated "why." Children use the "why" mantra to apprehend knowledge of their world. Sometimes with excitement on their face and other times by means of a detached almost bored inquisition. "Why daddy? Why do dogs drink out of the toilet? Why are tires round? Why do you shave?" Even the most patient soul runs out of patience and eventually gets around to the education thwarting, "I don't know - BECAUSE, THAT'S WHY"

"Why" is an important thing for me to know about patients showing up for help. Did they come because they wanted help, because their wife gave them an ultimatum to either get help or she was leaving, did the judge order an evaluation, or are they required to seek help by their employer or be fired.

An educatior may ask why students are in his/her class. Some work and seem interested in the subject while others cut class, do substandard work, and seem bored during lectures they do attend. Maybe the class is not in their major. Maybe it is. Maybe the student is fresh out of high school and does not appreciate what a gift education is. Maybe the student is fulfilling a dream by being in a college class. There are different motivations producing different behaviors.

The next time you are confused by someone's behavior. Look at the "why" question. Why are they doing what they are doing? Does their behavior match their stated purpose? Why are you doing what you are doing? Are you aware of the why?

Why did he say that? Why did she look at me that way? Why wouldn't she go with us? Why won't they listen? Why me? Why not? Why?

Why did I chose this topic? Maybe, I just needed something to write about.

Until the next time
John Strain

Jott is the neatest...

2008-08-14T22:13:00.001-05:00

Jott is the neatest thing, you should really check it out. listen

Powered by Jott

2008-07-07T19:17:00.002-05:00

Art Sale

SEE MORE PHOTOS
Saturday, John took his art to the Mandeville Market in hopes of selling some of it. We had constructed some display stands, purchased a small table, printed up business cards, and did everything else we could think of.

The market allows people to exhibit hand made items, art, plants, and food. This was a trial run. Since it was the holiday weekend, we did not know what to expect. The other vendors indicated the foot traffic was a bit down, but John still sold four paintings.

I am proud of the boy. He is taking summer classes and could not really get a job, so he applied his talent to a little hard work. Since he began, he has sold eleven paintings. He has been putting the link to his website around and has increased his site traffic that has generated some orders.

He has made more money than if he had done a minimum wage job full time.

It is amazing what an idea fueled by steady, determined, well thought out effort can accomplish.

Until the next time
John Strain

2008-06-30T22:03:00.001-05:00

It's Me!

Hi Everyone,
It's me Bear.

Not much to say, but a picture is worth a thousand barks.

Now, can you find me in my baby picture? This is a picture of me and my litter mates. The trouble is, I don't know which one I am. Daddy says I am probably one of the black puppies. He thinks I am on the far left. What do you think?

I've got to go now so I can help Daddy take the trash out. Then it is bedtime.

Bye for now,
Bear

2008-06-24T21:57:00.001-05:00

Digital Books

Last October I downloaded my first audio book from iTunes. I had always resisted this, because deep down, I felt like it was cheating. I guess I believed that, for it to count, you had to hold the book and actually read the words - hopefully without moving your lips. Getting the information into your head was not the main point. The method was important.

Well, I was wrong.

Sure, reading a book is perhaps preferred. One learns a lot by looking at the words. It helps you with your spelling and word recognition. Audio books have some advantages over regular books. With an audio book you can listen anytime and anywhere. You do not need light or even a quiet place. I do not think people have to choose one over the other. Using audio books is a way to increase your exposure to books. Books convey information and entertainment.

For me, reading is a bit difficult. I need good lighting and since I have to hold a magnifying glass, my arms get tired of being all twisted up. If the book is heavy, it is even more difficult to manage. The end result is it takes me a long time to read a book, because I take so many breaks to rest my arms and eyes. Audio books have really been a find for me.

Here is my routine. I get up in the morning and grab my iPod loaded with the book du jour. I listen as I am making the coffee. When I take Bear out for his walk, I am listening as I plod around the quiet predawn streets. When I run, the iPod is with me and I extend the runs so I can keep listening. I make sure I have the iPod with me if I may have to wait somewhere, like a doctor's office.

The best place to download your audio books is Audible Dot Com

Here is a list of the books I have read thus far:
1776, David McCullough
Pulp Physics: Astronomy: Humankind in Space and Time, Dr. Richard Berendzen
Mayflower: a Story of Courage, Community, and War, Nathaniel Philbrick
Social Intelligence: The New Science of Human Relationships, Daniel Goleman
Velvet Elvis: Repainting the Christian Faith, Rob Bell
In the Heart of the Sea: The Tragedy of the Whaleship Essex, Nathaniel Philbrick
Into Thin Air, Jon Krakauer
Into the Wild, Jon Krakauer
A Short History of Nearly Everything, Bill Bryson
Gang Leader for a Day, Sudhir Venkatesh
The Last Lecture, Randy Pausch
Black Like Me, John Howard Griffin
Opening Day, Jonathan Eig

The Complete Aubrey, Maturin Series by Patrick O'Brian
Master and Commander (1970)
Post Captain (1972)
HMS Surprise (1973)
The Mauritius Command (1977)
Desolation Island (1978)
The Fortune of War (1979)
The Surgeon's Mate (1980)
The Ionian Mission (1981)
Treason's Harbour (1983)
The Far Side of the World (1984)
The Reverse of the Medal (1986)
The Letter of Marque (1988)
The Thirteen Gun Salute (1989)
The Nutmeg of Consolation (1991)
Clarissa Oakes (1992) - (The Truelove in the USA)
The Wine-Dark Sea (1993)
The Commodore (1995)
The Yellow Admiral (1996)
The Hundred Days (1998)
Blue at the Mizzen (1999)
The Final Unfinished Voyage of Jack Aubrey (2004) - (21 in the USA)

I liked this series so much, I am reading it again. Currently, I am about to finish Desolation Island.

It would be difficult to put into words how much I have enjoyed listening to the Patrick O'Brian books about Lucky Jack Aubrey and his friend Stephen Maturin in the Royal Navy. They are set in the time of the Napoleonic Wars, early 1800's. The books just flow, and the narrator, Patrick Tull does a masterful job. He reads semi-dramatically and has a voice for each character true to that individual's nationality. There are different English accents, French, Irish, Scotch, and others.

The books are at times very exciting, frequently funny, and certainly addicting. I feel like I am part of the adventures and I find myself taking Bear on extra walks to find out what is going to happen next.

A lot of the days I did not post, I was at sea with Captain Aubrey, eating ship's biscuit, drinking capital port, and having the most prodigious of times.

So here's to not being laid by the lee.

Until the next time
John Strain

2008-06-23T06:18:00.001-05:00

On your mark . . .

It is Monday morning; a beginning of sorts. They say it increases your chances of success to make a goal public. I have gained weight in the last year and a half that I have been injured and unable to run as I would like. The "catch 22" is the weight stresses the offending knee, but the exercise is a major part of my way of managing weight.

The problem I have is I only eat right part of the day. Something happens when I get home. I open the pantry door and start eating chips. Not a handful, but the majority of the bag. The good news is the problem is my own behavior. I can control that.

That is my old behavior. The new behavior is going to be whey protein shakes during the day and the old cottage cheese and peaches at night. I have done it before and if adhered to strictly, the weight melts off. I am ready to pay the price of delaying gratification. Isn't that what most successful goals require?

I need to get the weight to 180 or 179. I am starting from about 200. Let's see; 20 lbs; that should take about 2 months if I stick to the plan.

As for the knee, I am heading back to the doctor mid July.

Now it is public. I have to produce results or I will be ashamed of myself.

Until the next time.
John Strain

2008-06-19T05:17:00.003-05:00

Woof

Hi Everyone, It's me Bear.

It has been a long time since these paws have graced this keyboard. I wanted to write since Daddy wasn't, but I kept getting distracted. I lay around a lot being a dog, and I'll have a good idea to post about, but just before I get it all figured out, I hear the refrigerator door open. Well, I have to go in and see what is going on. Daddy may be getting out the cheese or something like that. He likes to eat cheese and he always flips me pieces of it, yum.

How do you like my stuffed football? It is real big, but it squishes so I am able to bite it. Mommy and Daddy always laugh when I carry it around, because I hold my head up and prance. I don't know why I prance when I play with this ball. Maybe it is because it makes me so happy.

Right now, Daddy is making the coffee and when it is ready, he gives me my breakfast. That is almost my most favorite part of the day. I love to hear those biscuits hitting that metal bowl. A lot of times I eat them so fast, I am done and waiting for Daddy to take me on my walk, before his water is drawn in the sink for him to shave.

Did you see Daddy's picture without his beard? About a year ago, he shaved it off. It took Mommy and me a while to get used to it. I am glad my hair stays the same. I would have a hard time wielding a razor. It is hard enough typing without thumbs.

I sure like the summer time. I spend more time in the yard with Daddy. He mowed the grass last night and I watched him. If it gets too hot, I go under the azalea bushes and scratch out a cool hool to lie down in. I get carried away sometimes and Daddy has to yell at me because I am scratching all of his mulch out of the bed into the grass. Ooops. He doesn't get that mad though. No physical abuse, so don't feel like you need to call in an anonymous tip to the St. Tammany Parish Humane Society.

I'd better go, my leash is waiting and there are lots of weeds on which to pee and if I am lucky, I will find some fast food some construction workers threw away. I don't know why Daddy pulls me off of the good stuff when I find it. Just the other day, I was sniffing some dog doo and he told me that it was nasty. I don't criticize his poop. Oh well, humans, you can't live with them and you can't live without them. No offense folks.

Life is good. It's a dogs life you might say. I know you don't have tails, but if you did, I could wish they'd be wagging all day.

Bye for now,
Bear

2008-06-16T20:14:00.001-05:00

The job

For 21 years I worked at inpatient psychiatric hospitals. The business of inpatient psychiatric care went through many changes during those years. I could write a lot about what is wrong with the state of inpatient treatment. I could write a lot about why I decided to change jobs. It is sufficient to say that I just needed a change.

Now I work at a mental health clinic. My particular job is to meet with people walking in asking for help. It is my task to evaluate their problem and make recommendations for help. Sometimes people need referred, sometimes they need to see a psychiatrist, and sometimes they need ongoing counseling. I usually try to see them for counseling until the doctor can see them or until there issue is under control.

I love the variety. I see all kinds of people with all sorts of problems. This is a refreshing change from what I was doing. I feel much more fulfilled, I am making more money, and like the last place I worked, I enjoy my coworkers.

A lot of people do not like themselves. Their childhoods were lousy, their parents were abusive or absent, and their hope, purpose, meaning, and joy of life is nonexistent. My job is to infuse hope. I try to show them that things can change drastically if they would just let go of some beliefs and grasp some other ones. What is good about many problems is that they are self-inflicted. The good thing about that is, if your thinking and choices made the mess, then they can clean it up.

A lot of people are in unfulfilling relationships and feel there is no way out. Others do not have the confidence to take a risk for change, yet they live in a perpetual hell.

My heart often goes out to these folks. As they tell their story I feel saddened that their life is such a drudgery and disappointment. God intended for us to be happy and fulfilled. Sometimes, I get to be a part of turning someone around. I help them to believe, to hope, to try, and to expect success. I help them laugh and let go of anger and bitterness.

I have always treasured connecting with people. It could be a glance, a handshake, a comment that lets one know you are together on something. In counseling it is more like the other acknowledging that you understand them and they are relieved because you do. They trust you and try your suggestion. You keep them in mind and share in the joy of their successes. You also go back to the drawing board with them to tweak the plan that did not work.

I am happy and fulfilled. To do what I do is a great responsibility, but an even greater privilege and blessing.

Until the next time
John Strain

2008-06-14T09:46:00.001-05:00

The last post title was too ambitious

Routine and habit, once established are tough nuts to crack. I have been struggling to regain my mojo for a while. Unfortunately, when you battle yourself, you wind up getting your ass kicked either way.

If I can keep writing the next few days, I will address a few personal issues.

On Writing: I know I have told this story before. It is of the time I was browsing the self-help section of a book store. Barbara and I routinely went to the French Quarter on Sunday afternoons to find treasures of books and CD's. We rarely returned empty handed. At the time, I was about 30. Up to that point in my life, I had done little more than go to school. Sure I had worked and had gained some experience about how the world works and how people are, but I was still in student mode. Learning never stops if you have an open mind, but at some point, you have to get out of the classroom and put all of that knowledge to work.

Sooooo, there I was browsing the section. I was so familiar with the books, and the writer's points of view, nothing was moving me. Sometimes in life thoughts are so vivid and clear that they stand out. The thought I had was, "You don't need to be reading these books anymore; you need to be writing one of them." I can't swear to the exact wording, but the general message was that I needed to make a shift.

I got right on it. I created a blog 15 years later.

OK the last line was for comedic affect.

I did write, but mostly bits of prose, a few pages about something on my mind, or a poem of some kind.

I lived. Working, raising a son.

Then in July of 2003, I began writing almost daily on this blog. I was killing three birds with one blog. I wanted to leave a record. Maybe someday my son would want more details about his father. I wanted to better understand how web design and HTML worked, and I learned some of that. Then the last thing, I wanted to discipline myself to write. As they say, "Writers write."

Writing is a discipline. You have to allocate time to it. I did not always just sit down and whip out a post, though a writing professor might think so. Many a day my burning question was, "What can I blog about today?" Maintaining a blog must be what it is like running a newspaper or a column. Before I started the blog, I wrote things and polished them up for a few weeks until I left them alone. Blog posts do not afford that luxury. You have to give a topic or a thought your best effort in the time you have and leave it at that.

For awhile, I wrote my post at night. In the morning, I would read over it making a few edits, and then posting. Life, responsibilities, priorities, and the limits of self-discipline did not always allow this, so many posts were quickly written snapshots of my mind and mood at the time.

During Hurricane Katrina, the blog took on another function. I was a reporter. I was a link to people trying to find out about property and loved ones. I wanted to share the experience as it affected me. It amazed me that all of a sudden I could be an important link to the outside world. I felt the responsibility and I also felt privileged for the opportunity.

I am not trying to say that my blog was any great source of news or anything people paid that much attention too during the storm. I am saying that my efforts were as if they were, but I did it out of a sense of duty. I could do it so I did do it.

So what happened? Why did the posts grind to a halt on March 8th 2008?

Like eating right, exercising, reading your Bible, and brushing the dog weekly, I didn't want to stop writing, but I suppose I allowed other things to push it out. The good thing about stopping things you really want to do is guilt. Guilt grows like a bubble until it pops. I am not sure my guilt bubble popped or not, but I am writing a post right now. The point is, life feels a little out of whack until you do the things you feel are important and do them consistently.

In September 2007, I changed jobs. I am very happy at the new job. However, I am required to be there earlier than the other job. I have less time in the morning to run, water plants, write, and other things I did before. I am a morning person. By the afternoon, I have a lot less drive. To illustrate this point, note the absence of posts since September 2007.

Perhaps even more than that, I needed some time to refill. I think I wrote myself out. It was becoming a chore more than a passion. There is a time to read and a time to write. Now that I have had a break from writing and maintaining this blog, it is time to get back at it. I thought I was there in March, but that was obviously wishful thinking.

I never once thought about stopping. I am a writer and I will write, though there may be breaks and gaps.

Now, I need to catch you up with things. My job, Bear, my running, and the family. I have a few thoughts about the election and the price of oil. There is all kinds of things to write about. Let's see if I can get back in there.

Until the next time
John Strain

2008-03-08T09:59:00.001-06:00

The return of ambition

I feel like I lost a week. I have had either a bad cold or the flu. It hit me hard and fast. Last Sunday was my birthday and I celebrated it lying flat on my back feeling sorry for myself. Poor me. I went to work half a day on Monday then spent the other half of the day in the doctor's office. He gave me a steroid shot that seemed a miracle, but in one day it wore off and I was miserable again.

As colds do, they release their grip slowly. Each day I was miserable, but less than the day before. I was very congested in the chest and coughed incessantly. I felt "out of it" and my joints felt weak and rubbery.

All of that is in the past now. Today, I feel like my old self and tonight is the birthday celebration I didn’t have last week. We are going to Zea's Restuarant. That means I will eat half a rack of dry ribs, with sides of dirty rice and roasted corn grits. Ummmmmmmm.

Today is pretty cool, but spring is half way here. The azaleas are blooming, things are beginning to green, and all of a sudden, birds are everywhere. I noticed the birds about two weeks ago. One morning on my way to get the paper, the bird songs were much louder. It was amazing. I don't think I have ever noticed such a contrast. Either I was unaware of that moment in previous springs or this year it was more sudden.

It is good to have ambition again. I am not cut out to be a patient. Lying around feeling bad is not my way of fun. I doubt that anyone else looks at it as fun either. I am happy, grateful, thankful, and glad to be feeling better. Now I can get on with it. Whatever "it" is.

Have a great weekend folks and I hope your bout with the flu is behind you or you pass it like a ship in the night.

Until the next time
John Strain

2008-02-22T08:30:00.000-06:00

Depression

This is a little video I made about depression. The text is right off of a National Institute of Mental Health Brochure. The first part is the information and the next two parts showcase some more famous persons who have struggled with depression. The entire video is 21 minutes.

Part 1 of 3

Part 2 of 3

Part 3 of 3

Until the next time
John Strain

2008-02-19T12:05:00.000-06:00

25 years of marriage

Today is my 25th wedding anniversary. It went quick. A testament to Barbara's patience. I made a little video to commemorate the occasion.

Friday and Saturday, we will celebrate in New Orleans. It will be fun because New Orleans is where we dated. Some of our favorite places no longer exist, but then again, many still do.

Until the next time
John Strain

2008-02-17T12:26:00.001-06:00

Focus

The older I become, the more I am given to looking back and trying to make sense of things. The life cycle interests me; first my own life and experience, and then the lives of others. I look for things all of us have in common. It is a constant exercise that I do instinctively being an analytic sort of person. Writing about it is a way to more clearly develop what would otherwise be mere fleeting thoughts, little bubbles from the subconscious rising and fading away.

Today, I was thinking about "focus". The thing to which a person focuses on in life has a lot to do with his attitude, energy, outlook on life, and general sense of happiness. One's expectations, perceived success in achieving them, and how objectively realistic the goal(s), are other factors. Then, when things change, necessitating a realignment of foci, how nimble one is applying to a new object also determines one's level of contentment.

In counseling, one's depression or anxiety is often rooted in their focus. They are not getting what they perceive to be necessary for a happy life. Or maybe they are getting something unwanted making a happy life impossible. In both instances, they are trying to resist a reality. Resisting reality is something I do not recommend, at best you are crazy, at its worst, you may suffer an untold number of vexations and real calamities.

An ostrich sticking its head in the sand may not see the approaching predator, but the danger still exists. (by the way, ostriches really do not bury their heads in the sand. It is a myth, but a myth that serves well here.) A child may not want to hear something, but loudly singing la la la la la while holding hands firmly against her ears does not make the words go away. Fred Sanford's practice of placing bills back in the mailbox unopened did not settle his accounts.

It may not be what you want to do, but dealing with reality is your best chance of success. It is also a good way to avoid ruin. As a matter of fact, it also helps the success rate to play by the rules. That is to be honest, realistic, flexible, resourceful, and ambitious. I have noted in my counseling that those who lie, are unrealistic, inflexible, without a clue, and lazy tend to be less successful than their opposites.

When I think back to my younger years, my life's focus changed frequently. I always wanted something. I was easily hooked by the Saturday morning commercials. I believed them, after all, if it was on TV, it had to be true. So I wanted to eat Popeye spinach noodles, Chef Boy R D, I wanted to wear Red Ball Jets and PF Flyers, I longed to play with all of the toys they made look so fun. My focus was toward getting things. I longed for some things, but when I got them, I found they did not quite give me the life satisfaction I had imagined.

I thought my life would be bliss once I laced up a pair of Red Ball Jets or got the latest gizmo from Wham-O. The funny thing was that other than the initial elation that waned in a few days, life was just the same. I reasoned that I just needed the next thing. As I grew, I wanted radios, tape recorders, cassette recorders, bicycles, riding lawn mowers, mini bikes, go-carts, BB guns, and on and on and on.

I got some of those things, most of them, but they only quenched my life's thirst for happiness for a few moments. I remember times looking at the thing I had once longed for but now felt unmoved, and even then I knew there must be more to life than acquiring stuff. I haven't completely learned to live without toys, but I don't expect my toys to give me more than a little happiness.

In the teen years, I needed money, so I focused on work. I had paper routes, and started working as a bus boy at a Red Lobster when I was 15. Those experiences were like catching a tiger by the tail. At first I was happy to have landed the beast, but I soon learned to appreciate my former life of leisure.

Then girls entered my life and my focus was on landing one of them - talk about a tiger by the tail. My first girlfriend was the best and worst thing that ever happened to me in a matter of 2 to 3 months. There is nothing like that first broken heart to set you to rights.

My focus turned to God during my teen years. I reasoned that if there was a God, and I believed there was, then I should see about what He might require of me and to be about it. I must confess, that the first steps of that journey were less motivated by devout fervor than they were a fear of burning in hell. Still, that inquiry set in motion forces that would affect the rest of my life.

It was not long that I went to college and the focus of my life was getting educated to be a minister. College was 4 years and Seminary was another 3 years of study. Along the way, my focus began to blur. I was growing weary of the school thing mid-way through the seminary days. One of my professors shared just the right words and helped me refocus.

As I was nearing the end of my studies, my focus began to shift toward a mate. I met Barbara and before long, we were married. Everything seemed to be going according to Hoyle. Then decent employment began to elude us. We struggled financially and my focus was on making ends meet for now, but improving our lot later.

We were living and working in Illinois in a little church. It was a two year assignment. Toward the end of our time, it was nearing decision time. We could stay in a similar position or leave. For some reason, I had attended a continuing education event about marriage counseling. That Friday afternoon, I realized that counseling was for me. I had felt out of place as a minister, but that seminar helped me refocus.

We returned to New Orleans and I continued my education at the Seminary. Only now we had a 6 month old baby. These were difficult years financially. Barbara's parents helped us stay fed and kept diapers on John. I worked 2 jobs and Barbara worked at some pretty rotten places. I was focused on obtaining the necessary education to become a counselor so the hardships were endured and accepted as necessary evils.

I could have been miserable during those days, but I chose the life and knew it was not forever. If I had looked at it as a punishment or if I did not really have the conviction to do what was necessary to obtain my education, I may not have endured.

By now, you may have asked yourself what is your focus. It is a useful question. No doubt you have one, but if you have to think too long, you may need to make it a matter of contemplation. Focus is that to which our lives are navigating. Our courses are charted toward that destination. A word of caution though, the point of life is not arriving at a destination, but traveling. A destination is only a stop until you carry on toward the next goal.

Remember when I wanted the "things" and they did not satisfy me? Those were a kind of destination. The journey is the joy. My focus now is to be as much in the moment as I can. If I can be in the moment, I am not regretting the past, nor am I fretting about the future. If I am in the moment, I can work to be prepared for the points to which I am sailing on the distant horizon. If I spend the present worrying about them, I will arrive at those ports unprepared.

I also want to focus on appreciation for life. Saturday morning, I walked outside about dawn and I noticed how many more birds were singing. The seasons are changing. The air was warm and blustery. It was cloudy and a honking column of geese lazily flapped by. Bear was standing there with his football in his mouth. I was standing at the end of the driveway about to pick up the newspaper and I had such a realization that I was happy. What a wonderful moment to experience.

I know I will have to endure pain and loss in life. I don't necessarily dread this as it must happen, but that is all the more reason to be satisfied with things as they are. Today, this moment, I feel good - I'll take that and offer a prayer of thanksgiving.

It is funny how I have rambled in this piece entitled "focus".

May your life's focus be yours and may it bring you happiness.

Until the next time
John Strain

2008-02-14T21:53:00.001-06:00

Love

We fall in love. We make love. We love hot dogs. We love to play golf. Valentine's Day is a special holiday to make men look bad. If you don't provide your sweetheart an appropriate expression of "love" then the man is a flat, a scoundrel, or a total boor. So like most things, they are reduced to monetary measure. The person, who loves his sweetie the most, spends the most money.

With that line of reasoning, Bill Gates could easily out love me. However, I subscribe to another system of thought. Love is what one does. Love is a verb. Love is the result of purposed thought applied to action. This definition does not exclude persons without money.

It is easier to write a check than it is to spend an hour or two doing something you rather would not.

Children want their parent's time and attention over their money. Money is cold and indifferent. Time and effort come with feeling.

Over the years, I have made the mistake of forgetting birthdays, anniversaries, and special holidays. I don't anymore and I don't commemorate them solely with money. I strive to demonstrate a gift of time and attention. I want the offering to be meaningful.

I have had the good fortune of being loved unconditionally by my family, my wife, and some close friends. Of all the treasure the world has to offer, nothing can out shine the luster of such a gift.

May you be as fortunate

Until the next time
John Strain

2008-02-12T20:08:00.001-06:00

Resisting the lure of settling

Hi folks,
I have been a less occasional blogger than ever these last days. Routines are wonderful things, but they can be a challenge finding room and rearranging for all of the duties, disciplines, whims, and pleasures.

I am a morning person. That is when I am most creative and have the most energy. The theory of entropy applies to my day, I gradually slow down, with the possible exception of Friday night when I have dinner with friends and whet my whistle.

My new job requires me to be on station earlier than my old one did by one hour. In addition to that hour, the new salt mine is 30 minutes away instead of 5 minutes away. So I am having to roll out of the rack by 4:30 AM so I can get my running in. That wouldn't be so bad, but I often don't hit the hay until 11:00 PM.

Before I go to bed, I make the coffee so all I have to do in the AM is stagger into the kitchen and push one button to start in motion a chain of events that provides that wonderful morning elixir I call coffee. While the coffee is dripping, I shave, feed Bear, walk Bear, then do my run.

By then it is near 6:30 AM. I may do a few pushups, pullups, dips, and chinups, but then it is onto the showers, make my lunch, and try to be on the road no later than 7:30 AM.

Hey, you may say, he didn't mention writing a post for his blog. That explains why my monthly blog archives are as sparse as hairs on my crown. I just have to do it at some other time. So here I am at 6:30 PM. Bear has had his nightly walk, I have perused the daily delivery of bills, half a box of Cheez Its have settled my hunger pangs, Barbara is in the other room gyrating to some sort of exercise DVD, and I am fixing to write a post. Maybe this will be a new routine?

Today's post begins now - "Resisting the lure of settling"

13 "You are the salt of the earth. But if the salt loses its saltiness, how can it be made salty again? It is no longer good for anything, except to be thrown out and trampled by men."
14 "You are the light of the world. A city on a hill cannot be hidden."
15 "Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl. Instead they put it on its stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house."
16 "In the same way, let your light shine before men, that they may see your good deeds and praise your Father in heaven."
-Matthew 5: 13-16

What is settling? One may settle for something rather than spend the extra time, money, or effort to have something better. "That's good enough," one might say, "What's the point . . . It's not worth it." I am thankful our forefathers didn't settle when they were faced with the Great Depression, World War II, and flying to the moon. Each endeavor cost uncommon time, money, and effort to succeed.

There are different kinds of settling. Settling can be simply a matter of choice. One cannot go "whole hog" all of the time. The cheaper shoes may serve as well as the more expensive pair. Settling for a "B" in a class because you used study time to be with your children is a “hat tip” to your most sacred values.

I want to talk about another kind of settling. The kind of settling that trades exception for mediocrity. The kind of settling that allows fear to keep you out of the batters box. The malignant kind of settling that robs people of their life and causes their light never to shine and their salt never to be used.

My job now is to talk to people who walk into our mental health clinic. They come to us in crisis and I try to help them. The demands of life and the individual realities that result from a concoction of choice, the fates, and planetary alignment can sometimes be overwhelming. For the person in crisis, they are often out of answers, depressed, anxious, and viewing death as a way to make it stop.

Some who pass through our door have left a wake of poor choices that includes dropping out of school, committing crimes, turning to drugs, bringing children into the world with no way to support them, and pairing up with people who equal or exceed their litany of poor choices.

Then there are those who seem to have been born under a bad star. Misery, bad luck, and circumstance have frowned on them in ways to rival the Greek tragedies and that man named Job.

Some are a combination of the two, but when they come for help, they are usually out of ideas and their hope reserves are only fumes.

Why then do they choose poorly? How does this happen? There may be many reasons, but one thing I have seen time and time again is self-loathing. People don't like or respect themselves. They do not feel worthy of love.

"My dad never loved me." "He never said he was proud of me." "My mother knew her boyfriend was molesting me, but she pretended not to know." "I just can't measure up, no matter how hard I try." "Everything I touch, I screw up, I'm just no damn good like my old man always said."

If you hang around people who tell you that you are no good or, more subtly, you are not quite good enough, you will begin to believe it. If that indoctrination begins at childhood, you learn to keep feeling like that child even when you are an adult. The fears, and uncertainties grow.

Instead of learning that risks are rungs on the ladder taking you to your dream, you avoid risk because failing means you are a failure and you have grown weary of the pain. Failure means shame and embarrassment. People will laugh at me, people will look at me with scorn, my secret will be out - everyone will know that I am no damn good.

We have probably felt this to some degree. Our nerves flare if we stand to speak before a group. We fear saying something wrong or being looked on as incompetent, unintelligent, not hip, and ridiculous. I have seen people refrain from playing the piano or singing around others because, "I'm not good enough."

The fear of failure guarantees incompetence. You have to swing the bat to hit the ball. Failing is a good teacher as long as you do not end up feeling you are a failure.

If you feel you are no damn good and a failure, it is easier to say "f"it and make a poor choice. The poor choice and predictable consequences further confirms your suspicions that you really are no damn good and that your old man was right.

What to do, what to do?

You get them to realize that they are the salt of the earth and the light of the world. You try to get them to sprinkle themselves around and spice up life. You try to get them to risk letting their light shine.

I once heard a preacher say that Christians are like millionaires writing ten cent checks. He was referring to untapped potential. I have seen a lot of people like this. They have chosen to settle. They have reasoned that to follow a dream or even an interest is unreasonable. “Dreams are not for me. I cannot take the pain of another failure.”

The good news is that the answer, the ingredients, and the stuff needed to right the ship is already possessed. You don't need anything but a different perspective. A new way of thinking will net different results.

I have found that this message is well received. It is a kind of key to a prison. Opening the cell and walking out into the sunshine is a process.

The aim is to stop the pain. Stay away from those spewing the venom of fear. At the same time, you want to start doing the right things. One must make better choices and learn to take risks.

Life is way too short to spend it upset and hating yourself. We are surrounded by beauty, good people, and opportunity. You can choose to focus on the things you don't like in others and thereby stay angry and bitter. However, we have much more in common with each other than we have different.

Don't settle for getting by. Don't settle for a miserable angry existence. Life can be much more. I am not talking about discovering the cure for cancer, just removing the cancer from your soul that is known as self-loathing. A malignancy that blinds you to all of the good and all you have to appreciate.

This little light of mine
I'm gonna let it shine
Let it shine
Let it shine
Let it shine

Until the next time
John Strain

2008-01-15T23:42:00.001-06:00

Ambient Noise

Is it just me, or is the current presidential campaign - the one that started the second following George W saying, "So help me God" - is taking on the form of the absurd. I may be cynical, but it is all so predictable. The candidates are caricatures. I do not know how the press can read their teleprompters with straight faces.

As I watched the 10 o'clock local news recap the Michigan primary this evening, it all looked ridiculous - even less interesting than the junior high election for class officers I witnessed in the early 70's. Do the promises our presidential candidates make have any more chance of coming to fruition than those of the junior high politicians? I seem to remember promises of better school lunches, more free time, and less homework.

My fellow students and I cheered wildly that political platform and voted, basking in the pride that swells when one exercises that democratic right. Innocence lost. In the back of my mind, I began to sense then what I know now. That is, there is no knight on a white horse coming to save us. That's fine though, because we don't need saved anyhow. The candidates try to become the solution to their conjured problem. All of a sudden, the US is going to hell in a hand basket. You just thought things were OK. Our only hope is candidate X. (Insert watermelon cheer here)

That's fine though. Along with a dash of disillusionment, in our stew of political understanding, we should stir in a measure of "be your own hero." Don't wait for someone to help you, help yourself. While you are at it, help someone along the way too.

The actors in this presidential sweepstakes (hmmm a mixed metaphor). The contestants in this political production (ooops I did it again). I mean the horses asses in this presidential race probably meant well at some point in their journey. Deep down, I would like to believe they are good folks who want to serve the country. Unfortunately, funny things happen to a sincere person on the way to the White House. Can you say prostitution? Before they are elected they sell themselves for votes. They shamelessly kiss any ass they can. The patronizing they do makes Eddie Haskel look like a sincere fellow.

In Braveheart, Mel Gibson's character told the young nobleman that people would follow a leader that had real conviction. Instead, politicians see the office as a prize to win instead of a byproduct of good ideas, conviction, and leadership. I so long to hear an original thought from a candidate. A thought that has not already passed through the scrutiny of focus groups to be shaped into something calculated for political advantage. Lord, never let the people know what you really think.

Ronald Reagan, where are you? Like him or not, he could tell a joke and his answers to the press were not canned talking points. He spoke from the heart.

The intellectual dishonesty, the way they reduce complex subjects to sound bites designed to make the evening news results in the presidential race having no more substance than a beauty contest. Can you say Miss South Carolina? She is sounding more intelligent every day.

I detest so many other things about the process. For instance, if you do not care for Barak Obama you must be a racist. If you do not like Hilary, you are a sexist. However, if you like Huckabee, then you are a far right religious kook.

It is our process however and our vote is a powerful thing. Maybe we have what we have because so many people do not vote and the ones who do pay more attention to the package than they do its contents. We can demand the news coverage is more about issues than “gotcha.” We can educate ourselves on the issues and make those aspiring to lead us speak to them. Or we can bend over, grab our ankles and brace for the alternative.

It is after all up to you and me.

Until the next time
John Strain

2007-12-30T20:04:00.000-06:00

2007 Highlights

Happy New Year folks. Here is a little video I prepared about our 2007 family highlights. I plan to re-discipline myself where blog writing is concerned, so don't give up on me.

Until the next time
John Strain

2007-11-12T18:58:00.000-06:00

Unfinished business

"Excuse me sir," the voice was coming from a car that was pulling up along side me, "I grew up around here, but I haven't been back in so long, I don't recognize anything." I had to stop running to talk to the man on the passenger side of the car. His grandson was driving him around, but the man needed directions to find memory lane.

He had a New Orleans accent that closely resembles someone from New York. He had a stogie in his mouth and could have passed for an aging mob boss. He continued, "I grew up in a house near Madisonville in the bend of a road. It was a big two-story place. Do you know of it?" I like to be able to answer people's questions when they stop me from running. It makes me feel smart. This guy had me stumped. We talked a few minutes and I gave him a few ideas, but I basically was no help.

The man thanked me then drove off, stogie and all. Later that week it came to me just like stepping on a rake. The man probably lived on 1077. Darn, I have the answer, but no way to give him the information. It may sound funny, but this stuck with me. I would think of the man with the stogie from time to time and how I came up with his answer after it was too late to help him.

Today, I was off of work. One of the perks of state employment is more holidays. So to celebrate the day, I took Bear on an extra long walk. I was walking along listening to a book on my iPod when a car pulled along side me and a voice with a New Orleans accent said, "Excuse me sir, I grew up around here, but I haven't been back in so long, I don't recognize anything." It was the man I saw a year or two ago, still gnawing on a cigar. He didn't recognize me, but I recognized him. Now was my chance to finish that unfinished business.

The conversation went like our first one, but this time I suggested he drive down 1077. "No that's not it, I already tried there." So I repeated the advice I gave him the last time I gave him the wrong information. He thanked me and in a puff of smoke from his cigar, his grandson drove off still in search of the old homestead.

I laughed to myself. For a couple of years I had hoped for such a moment to bestow information on the man to help him end his lengthy quest. I had imagined accepting graciously and humbly his heartfelt adulation for helping him. In reality, he blew off my pearls of wisdom.

Ha. Oh well, it's the thought that counts I guess.

My business is now finished with the cigar smoking traveler.

Godspeed my friend.

Until the next time
John Strain

2007-11-08T21:09:00.001-06:00

I like Frank's sense of humor

Have a nice weekend.

Until the next time
John Strain

2007-11-05T22:06:00.001-06:00

Perspective

This is a photo of the Sombrero Galaxy or M104 taken by the Hubble Space Telescope. It is in the constellation Virgo and cannot be seen by the naked eye. It can be seen with binoculars - just a little speck in the night sky. Now consider that speck is 28 million light years away from the earth. It is equalivant to more than 800 billion suns. Were you to travel from one edge of the Sombrero Galaxy to the other, it would take you 50,000 years traveling at the speed of light.

Now consider this galaxy that shows up as a faint piece of lint in the night is but one pixel on a huge canvas that is the night sky.

Our star, the Sun is just one of 200 billion stars that make up the Milky Way Galaxy. There are 150 billion galaxies in the universe.

Does that make you feel small and insignificant?

Does that give you some new perspective on those things about which you worry?

To think. The God who created it all loved us so much that he gave his only Son.

Small and insignificant as compared to the size of the universe is not equal to unlovable and valueless.

When I consider myself compared to the universe I feel humble.

When I think about God loving me I feel grateful.

What are worries compared to these truths?

That was a rhetorical question.

When I consider Your heavens, the work of Your fingers,
The moon and the stars, which You have ordained;

What is man that You take thought of him,
And the son of man that You care for him?
-Psalm 8: 3-4

Until the next time
John Strain

2007-10-23T21:43:00.001-05:00

A haunting past

Bit by bit the details came out. She talked of a life ruled by drugs. Now 5 months clean, she is haunted by her past. There are her three children, none of whom live with her. The 4 year old was born drug addicted, the 11 year old calls her by her first name, and her two year old is growing up without her in his life. She was crying as she told stories of her past. She was ashamed and sorry. Her present life is mired by the sludge of her previous actions.

"I'm trying," she said, "But nothing seems to be improving." Between school, work, and living with a friend, she is tired and has difficulty concentrating. Her mind often asks unanswerable questions that start with that three letter word, "why?" Then there are the "If only's." All exercises of vanity. The past cannot be changed. What is done is done.

Her harshest critic is herself. "My friends at work like me," she said with her voice shaking and dobbing at tears with a tissue. "They all think I am funny and a good worker, but when I get home all I can do is think about the things I have done. I feel like I am losing my mind."

She is on an emotional merry-go-round that won't stop. She can't sleep, she can't think. All she does is cry and hope she does not return to the drugs like she has the other times. At some point, she may say those fateful words, "F it," and then the gates of hell will open up and swallow her one more time.

So far though, she is holding on. She is determined to make it this time. She is working on her GED. She is working to make some money so she can get out on her own, but she is having a hard go of it.

When she had her say, I began to talk:

You're not losing your mind. You are in the process of finding it. For a long time you have been doing things that have been against your own values, but the drugs didn't let that hit you. Now they are wearing off and the impact of what you have done is sinking in. This is a process of healing. You feel guilt and shame and rightfully so. The purpose of those feelings is to make you sorry and to make you change your behavior so it won't happen again. In the past you have used drugs to deal with bad feelings. You can handle this. You caused this and you can fix it. You cannot change the past, but you can change your behavior so you do not repeat the past. It is not about what you did, but what you will do.

Recovery is a lot of things. One of them is forgiving yourself. People believe that God can forgive them. They can accept forgiveness from friends, but they often cannot forgive themselves. The trick is to use the present to make a future that will leave the past behind. It takes time and patience, which is another hard thing for addicts used to changing their mood by smoking some crack or popping a pill.

I think she will make it, but it is more about what she thinks and what she does.

Good luck girl.

Until the next time
John Strain

2007-10-22T22:28:00.001-05:00

The doctor is in

It has been so long since I have posted, I almost forgot how. I have been on the new job for about a month now and I can say without hesitation that I made a good decision. Nothing is perfect and everything has its own list of pros and cons. That said, I made a pretty good trade.

Before September 24th I had worked exclusively in psychiatric hospitals. In 21 years, I have witnessed a lot of change in how mental health is delivered in hospitals. The past 8 years or so, I have worked with the chronic population. The work needs to be done, but I lacked challenge. I didn't feel like I was helping anyone. People would come and go and I was one of the windows on the never ending revolving door.

I had hoped working with people at the mental health clinic would be more stimulating. That is, I would be challenged. The hospital lacked variety and challenge for me. I am happy to say that the things for which I had hoped have come about.

My job is to evaluate or assess those who walk in. It is an interesting task to talk with someone and help figure out what they need. I like to fix things and this is a chance to have a hand at fixing people.

I left a lot of good friends at my last job, but there are some good folks at the new place too. They don't quite know me yet. I have to unveil a little at a time for fear of scaring them off.
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Bear is doing fine. It rained all day today and after work, it was pouring. On those days, he gets to swim. The ditches are full of rain water and he loves chasing his football in them.
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The other morning I was walking Bear and it was almost completely quiet. Then all of a sudden, the birds started singing. I don't think I have ever noticed them not singing one moment and then singing the next. It was as though an angel walked into a large control room in heaven and flipped a switch entitled "Birds singing in Covington, LA."
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One down side of the new job is I have to wait about an hour or so for Barbara to pick me up. After being bored stiff a couple of days, I started bringing my iPod and listened to music. Then I bought an audio book off of iTunes. Now, I don't mind waiting at all. I am getting into the audio book thing. The first book I listened to was "1776." As you can imagine, it is about the Revolutionary War. Very interesting and captivating. I recommend it highly.

Now I am listening to "Pulp Physics, Astronomy: Humankind in Space and Time." Again, two thumbs up.

The moral of the story is. Don't bitch, piss, moan and whine - read a book.
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Speaking of complaining; I have been having a rough time with my running. I am still trying to get my right knee fixed, but I am up to about 3 miles in spite of it. The real problem is I have to get out of bed around 4:00 AM, because I have to be at work a lot earlier than when I worked at the hospital.

All of this stuff is just part of the process before routine sets in. Eventually, I will have a ride both ways to work. One of my coworkers is building a house close to where I live. Hopefully by January she will be my new regular ride. That will take the heat off of Barbara too.

Now you are up to date.

Until the next time
John Strain

2007-09-24T19:23:00.000-05:00

Beep

I pushed a few buttons on the electronic time clock and it beeped like it had on thousands of previous occasions. Only this time, it was the last beep. It was the beep that signaled the end of my career at the hospital. It was 2:05 on a Saturday afternoon. I loaded a few boxes into the car and we drove away.

I am always amazed how something can affect me so much, either emotionally or substantively, yet the world goes on as if it were nothing. Firsts and lasts are always meaningful to me. I am given to thought. I try to make it make sense. I want to learn something from the experience. I have learned a lot at the hospital. I made many friends. It was my life, but it won't be anymore.

I am not sad. It was time to go and I am looking forward.

Today was my first day on the new job - sort of. I spent half a day in an orientation, then more orientation at the clinic where I will work.

I am going to like the work. It is primarily a clinical job and I will get to hone my counseling and diagnostic skills further.

For now, the task is to settle into new routines. I have to leave the house about 1 hour and 45 minutes earlier now. That makes running in the morning a matter of getting up at 3:30 or 4:00 AM depending on how many miles I have to go. All of that will work out in time.

Now that I am a state employee, I will have more of a role in disaster response. I like the thought of that. I may get to go help even if the hurricane or disaster is not in my immediate area.

I'll write more in a few days when things sink in a bit more, but all is well.

Onward and upward.

Until the next time
John Strain

2007-09-19T07:08:00.000-05:00

Changing Jobs

The season is changing and so is my employment. After nearly 16 years at the hospital, I am moving on. It is funny how things happen. I wasn't really looking to move, but all at once I had a choice between 3 jobs. There was the one I had; there was the administrator position at my hospital, and an opportunity with the State of Louisiana.

My hospital was looking for an administrator so I applied. The next day, I heard from someone who worked at one of the state mental health clinics telling me about a crisis counselor position that was open. I went through the interview process with both jobs, weighed the options, pros, and cons - and then decided.

It wasn't an easy decision. On the one hand, being the administrator meant more money, an ego boost, and the challenge of a demanding position. However, to whom much is given, much is expected. Administrators longevity approximates that of pro football coaches. What have you done for me lately? I am well liked and respected now, but the honeymoon ends when the census goes down. I would be responsible for lots of things I have no control over.

Lots of stress, no win situations, being the blame for everything that happens, and on call 24/7. I knew I would be throwing myself into the pressure cooker.

On the other hand, I could work for the state in a clinical position. I would still make more money - 6K more a year. I would have better benefits, 8 to 4:30 hours, and no on call responsibility.

Maybe if I were 40, I would be up to the challenge of administrator. It would be good for the resume, blah, blah, blah. But I am 50. With the state, I am eligible for retirement in 10 years. I would be doing the kind of work I have been trained to do and the work I chose years ago.

How many times have you seen someone promoted to his or her area of incompetence? How many times have you seen someone who is good at a job take a job they are not so good at because it pays more or because it is management? I suppose I went against conventional wisdom and turned down more money and prestige. I think I chose a path that will still provide for our family financially, but keep me in the area I know best and I am best at.

So now I will be working with people who walk in to the clinic and in some sort of crisis. I evaluate them and refer them to the level of care they require. I also have the option to keep seeing them - up to 2 times beyond the initial evaluation.

I was getting tired of the inpatient population. Patients are getting more and more disrespectful, angry, and violent. Maybe that is because of crack cocaine. About two weeks ago (after I had turned in my notice) I was stabbed in the ear with a ball point pen by one such individual. The pen went clear through my ear. That little incident only confirmed to me I was making the right decision.

I suppose someone could walk in off the street and be violent too, but odds are the ones who walk in on their own volition want help and are not out to attack a therapist. I am starting to get used to it though. Since last October I was attacked in my office, bitten by a patient I was trying to pull off of a nurse the patient was attacking, and now stabbed by a patient who didn't want to be in the hospital - that's quite a trifecta.

Monday is my first day at the new job and I am excited and energized by the change. I will have a whole new group of folks who haven't heard my jokes.

As they say, one door closes; another door opens.

Until the next time
John Strain

2007-09-17T21:45:00.001-05:00

Voices

Sunday, Barbara and I were driving back home from New Orleans. I had my iPod plugged in and I was listening to Kelly Sweet. She has a silky smooth, breathy, angelic voice and as I listened to her, some thoughts occurred to me.

I thought about how amazing is a voice. Kelly's voice is beautiful, but there are many pleasant voices and all different and unique. It seems a miracle to me that our ears can discern someone's identity by listening to the sound of a voice.

Then after our ears hear the voice, our minds can comprehend the meaning they convey. Both the package and the content can impact us greatly Some voices may be sweet, but they are trying to deliver poison, while other less pleasing voices may convey untold treasures. I thought about how often the thing that is beautiful to our senses is not always the best thing for us. Like the Sirens that lured the Greek sailors to their death on the rocks, some voices are illintentioned.

In the Bible, Elijah listened for God in the wind and then in an earthquake, and finally in a fire, but God did not speak from those powerful and majestic displays; He spoke to Elijah in a "still small voice." We have to slow down, wait, and listen to hear this kind of a voice.

Then I thought about my voice. What kind of voice do I have? Is it a voice that conveys laughter, joy, solace, and peace? Is it a pleasant voice? Like the voices to which we listen; the voices we use are a matter of choice.

Think how a few simple words to which you give voice can impact another for good or for bad. Think of the power you have.

"My sheep know my voice, and I know them, and they follow me" (John 10:27).

Until the next time
John Strain

2007-09-10T21:12:00.000-05:00

Why not send Social Security checks directly to the drug dealers?

It may sound absurd for the US Government to send money to drug dealers, but they are only one middleman away from that very scenario.

I work in a hospital and many of our psychiatric patients have a little problem with crack / pain pills / alcohol / insert any illegal drug here. These folks typically live in a group home and attend what is known as a partial hospitalization program. Medicare covers the costs for the daily psychiatric treatment and a lot of the medication, and the Social Security Disability check covers the $400 or so for the room and board at the group home / supervised housing.

This setup of housing and treatment works for some, but for others, it is not enough. These people are in the revolving door of hospital admission, discharged to outpatient, decompensation, and return to the hospital. The folks who are on this merry-go-round either are non-compliant with their medication, use drugs, or both.

As a hospital worker, I see people admitted time after time. Most of these folks have a chronic mental illness and by definition, they are never cured. Hospitalization is a part of their life, even when they do everything right. However, there is an element - a large element - that abuses the system. They have serious drug problems. They often spend their entire check on drugs. When the money is gone, they show up in emergency rooms stating they are suicidal. They are then committed and sent to a hospital that has to take the patient or be in violation of the federal EMTALA (anti dumping law).

I am often amazed at the grandiosity many of these people possess when they arrive at the hospital. Recently a patient pointed out that he was the customer and would do things in his time. He did not like being woke up early in the morning for a blood draw. He did not appreciate being locked up and his cigarettes limited. He had an extensive list. "I pay your salary," he said.

Hmmm. He receives a check drawn from tax dollars taken from people who do work. The truth is, I pay his salary. I usually bite my tongue, but if they persist, I explain who is paying whom.

Some people need help and I do not begrudge their getting help from the government. Others only need help because they continually choose the wrong thing.

So instead of getting into a "who really needs help and who does not" debate; I think I have a solution.

If you qualify for disability - fine. The benefits exist, you are eligible, then take them. Just know that you are accepting a pretty crappy income. You may not have to work and you may have a lot of time, but other than watch mind numbing daytime TV, what will you do to make life interesting?

I think a lot of folks on disability become drug addicts out of boredom and a lack of an interesting life. Think about it. If you were off all day, whom would you hang out with? Most folks are working. The only people not working are the retired, the disabled, and low life slugs who use drugs.

I take exception to the low life scum that managed to get on disability. I hate to see the government check going to the local crack dealer. They tend not to be good citizens.

I am sure you understand the problem. What about solutions? If you think about it, welfare and entitlements kind of go against the laws of natural selection. The weak and feeble are allowed to live. My solution is not to let natural selection take over - I'm just saying.

My idea is to do this: If you receive a check from the government and end up in a hospital because you are using drugs, then you will no longer receive cash directly. Because you have demonstrated irresponsibility with money, the government will have to become even more of a daddy to your undisciplined self. You are still eligible for help, but it will be in the form of vouchers.

Payments will go straight to your landlord or doctor. You will not be given one cent.

I know, critics will say that these people will only be forced to steal and crime will increase. Stealing would be too much work for a lot of these people.

Disability means broken. I am broken and qualify for disability, but I found something to do. Everyone may not be able to work in spite of a disability, but many who are getting that check are able bodied enough to do some kind of work.

It is hard to believe our welfare system has only been around since the 60's. Prior to that, families had to live together to get by. The check has allowed people to be independent enough to live in a rundown apartment or trailer. It has allowed people to have enough money to get by so they don't have to work. Not working robs people of pride. It was an idea with a good sentiment, but it is a major failure and has only intensified social problems.

Is Social Security Disability a good thing? Yes for many who truly deserve it, but many are pretenders, many are nothing more than government subsidized drug addicts.

There I said it and I feel better.

Until the next time
John Strain

2007-09-08T04:41:00.001-05:00

How to spell "arithmetic"

When I was in grade school we had a hard word in our weekly spelling list. It was the word "arithmetic." Our teacher Mrs. Doer (good name for a teacher) shared an acrostic to help us remember the word.

A
R-ed
I-ndian
T-hought
H-e
M-ight
E-at
T-obacco
I-n
C-hurch

It has all of the elements to make a kid pay attention and use it. First of all, it is a catchy phrase, and second it has a hint of rebellion without crossing the line. This is similar to a song we sung in Boy Scouts where one of the choruses had the phrase "Amstra, Amstra, dam dam dam." It was very close to legalized cursing and we all loved it.

Anyway, back to "arithmetic." I think of Mrs. Doer and her memory aid to this day every time I spell the word. Otherwise I might be tempted to spell it with an "R." You know, reading, riting, and rithmetic.

Too bad about this ancient tidbit. I am sure if it were used today in a public school, it would prompt action from the ACLU. They would have the phrase changed to something like this:

A
H-uman colored
N-ative American
T-hought
S/he
M-ight
E-at
C-hewing gum
I-n
A-place where s/he finds spiritual comfort

So then "arithmetic" becomes "ahntsmecia."

Maybe that's what they mean by "new math."

That's what I get for thinking about stuff at 4:00 AM.

Until the next time
John Strain

2007-09-04T22:01:00.001-05:00

Labor on Labor Day

The other day I thought about making an exercise contraption in my backyard for doing chin-ups, pull-ups, dips, rows, and sit-ups. I thought about it for a while, developed a plan, went to Lowe's for some materials, and then over Labor Day, I put it all together. It came out just the way I had planned.

It was fun building and I was pleased to get the angles square and level. Part of the fun is simply taking an idea from my head and making it a reality. Dips and pull-ups are tough exercises. I like that they employ several muscles at one time. They build real world strength. There is no gimmick to a dip or a pull-up. Either you do it or you don't.

This morning, I did a set of dips and then I threw the ball for Bear. I repeated that a few times and really enjoyed it. I like the fact that I am working out outdoors. At the gym I do 3 or 4 sets of 12 dips and I am up to about 4 pull-ups. With my backyard torture rack I can do them all day long. I am going to shoot for 10 or more sets on a weekend day.

Since I have been laid up from running, I have been going to the gym and working my upper body. Now that I am getting back to the running, I don't have the time to work the upper body. Now with my exercise station, I can have the best of both worlds.

The first photo is of the materials I used to make the dip/chin station.

The Materials

The finished product. Notice the sit up bench I made. It rests on the bottom pipe. The middle pipes slide out of the way so I can do pull-ups or chin-ups.

The plan comes together

At the top of the exercise station is a brace with special meaning. As a surprise a few years ago, mom and Rocky brought me their piano from Missouri. Rocky had it packed really good and the two screwed together 2x4’s were part of that packing. Now they serve to add stability to my machine. So he is with me in spirit and I know he would be happy to be a part of something that makes people stronger.

A piece of Rocky

So that's what I did on my Labor Day weekend. It was fun building and now I have a nice piece of outdoor workout equipment.

Until the next time
John Strain

2007-08-27T21:51:00.000-05:00

Role Models

You may have missed it, but the greatest moment in the Little League World Series took place after the walk off homerun that won the game. The Japanese players were in the middle of the infield devastated at the sudden loss and unable to hide their pain. Some of them were crying; most hung their heads. A few feet away, the celebrating team from Warner Robins, Georgia took notice of their opponent’s pain.

A celebration morphed into a display of compassion for the vanquished. Our American boys offered hugs and kind words. Such a sight to behold; I thought about how I wished our Major Leaguers would take a lesson from those boys. Baseball is a business sure, but it was a game first and the little leaguers demonstrated just how beautiful it could be.

An act of kindness so pure and true to the meaning of sport was displayed for all to see, but the headlines focused on the winning homer. The greatest moment was missed by many. Had my son hit the winning homerun; it would not have swelled my chest with pride like the hugs offered to console the pain of losing.

So hats off to those boys - may their kind gesture only foreshadow even better things to come in their lives.

Until the next time
John Strain

2007-08-20T07:15:00.000-05:00

Love the iMac

One of the most enjoyable things in life is opening a brand new piece of electronics. My iMac came in on Friday, but I waited until Saturday AM to take it out of the box. I had plenty of time to soak in the experience. It gives me the same feeling I had Christmas morning as a kid.

Moving up to the latest stuff is always a thrill. My old Mac tower was a 2001 model. It served me well, but I have moved on.

I can't wait to translate all of that computing power into neat stuff on the old blog.

But for now, Bear needs to go pee on a few bushes around the neighborhood.

Until the next time
John Strain

2007-08-16T07:16:00.000-05:00

Deja vu

I doubt I am the only one to feel pangs of PTSD with this latest tropical storm out in the Atlantic. Dean is a couple of weeks out, but I know what it can become. Fortunately now the forecasters are having it travel far south of my humble abode.

When I saw it was headed this way, my brain started thinking of the prep work I needed to do. Katrina is almost a two year memory now, but she left a vivid impression.

This weekend I am going to fill my gas cans, get some chainsaw supplies, and make sure the liquor closet is stocked up. I think if more people had stocked up on booze, they wouldn’t have been killing and looting so much. Just my opinion.

The peak of hurricane season is September 14. From now until about the 28th of September is when most of the tropical activity takes place. Just imagine a rodeo cowboy sitting on the bucking bronco in the chute, those of us on the Gulf Coast are tying our hand to the saddle horn. Last year we made it the 8 seconds and the clown successfully distracted the wild beast from launching us from the arena.

What will this season bring? I guess I will find out, but as the days fall from the calendar my sense of trepidation rises. I know what I’ll do; I’ll go to the iTunes store and download another classic rock album from my childhood. That’s what I call fighting fire with fire. One bad memory matched with a good one. In the end, they cancel each other out.

Whatever.

Have you noticed the morning star in the east just before dawn? Old Venus was shining brightly this morning in my neighborhood. It seems like a short time ago Venus was the evening star. She rose in the west just after dusk. For those keeping score at home, that was in March.

Enjoy your Thursday.

Until the next time
John Strain

2007-08-14T06:59:00.000-05:00

Another day in paradise

As the trash truck screams on into the muggy sub 7:00 am air, I am sitting here cooling down from my workout at the gym. A Styrofoam cup holds nectar of the gods better known as coffee. I grab a cup of the free swill on my way out the door. I just read my email and Apple has notified me that my new iMac is in route from China. I hope they don't use any lead paint on it, because I have a tendency to chew on computer casings.

Bear is munching down his daily meal and soon he will be sitting behind me staring with his eyes that long to move me outdoors to throw his beloved football. I can't resist the call of those eyes. No matter what else happens today, I will know beyond any doubt that I have made another living thing happy. If people would jump around with appreciation like dogs, folks might do more good just to see the gyrations.

I have new job prospects. I won't jinx them by going into it now, but I will talk about it after I sign on the dotted line - if there is to be one.

But for now, it is time to refill the little white cup and go back into the oven that was once the outdoors and put Bear through his paces.

Check out the new iTunes widget in my sidebar. It shows you how I have been spending my money. I buy the classic rock and Barbara buys the contemporary Christian music. Go figure.

Have a great day,

Until the next time
John Strain

2007-08-07T07:37:00.001-05:00

A chip on the shoulder

Why are people so angry? Road rage, violence, politicians getting into fist fights, school violence, and a world wide web full of vitriol speech. Many feel the need to share their anger or disdain for a topic by using abusive words.

Case in point. A few years ago I made a little video about the Civil Rights Movement. I posted it on YouTube September of last year. Since then it has been viewed 13,000 times and has received 17 comments. It amazes me how this little video which only shows vintage photos from the 50’s and some footage of Martin Luther King set to music evokes such extreme comments. I only deleted one comment that was completely vile, but some of the others must certainly be testaments of an individuals "baggage." There is a lot of anger out there. The video is here if you want to see it.

I usually try to turn folks away from anger with humor. For instance, at work if I come across someone ranting and raving about something, I might say like, "Donna, it's only 9:30, you better pace yourself or you'll never make it to 5:00." Usually they laugh, because they realize they are going on and on. Anger can be a habit and a bad one at that. Angry people are not fun to be around.

Personally, I don't like to be angry. I get angry, but I don't stay angry. I don't like to give someone or something power over me. Those who believe they can't get over their anger until someone fixes something or apologizes are giving away power. Anger eats at you and makes you an unpleasant SOB to be around. So it is best to get over it.

Maybe all of the anger expressed on the net is just people's way of blowing off steam, but I think it is more of a person showing their true self. What I don't like is when people spew their venom anonymously. To me anonymity is another word for coward. If you have an opinion stand behind it or keep it to yourself. So there.

I better stop, I am getting pissed. Ha.

Anyway, we would all do well to stop and take a deep breath and ask ourselves this question: "Is this thing worth all of this anger and emotional energy?" The answer will most likely be “no.” Maybe you need more Three Stooges or Bugs Bunny in your daily routine. It works for me. Anger is sometimes a symptom of taking yourself and/or life too seriously. I hate when that happens.

Say, did you hear the one about the minister sitting in a diner and the waitress accidentally poured a hot pot of coffee down his back? Well he stood up and grabbed the back of his chair. His knuckles turned white as he gripped it and said through clenched teeth, "Would some ungodly soul please say a few appropriate words." Now that's emotional control.

Here's to a few appropriate words, they have reduced my anger many times.

Until the next time
John Strain

2007-08-05T09:05:00.001-05:00

Call me skinny

By Bear

Hi Everyone it's me Bear.

Do you remember the last time I wrote that I was on a diet? Welp, it worked. I'm skinny now. I have lots of energy to chase my football. I can jump better too.I lost 15 pounds. That's a lot for a dog.

Just look for yourself at my before and after pictures.

Before

After

I look more like my old self now. This pup sheds more than hair, I just jettisoned 15 pounds. My collar got real loose and daddy had to tighten it up for me.

Daddy hasn't written anything in a long time. He told me to tell everyone that he was going to start writing more regularly. He got real busy doing things around the yard and the house.

When daddy is in the yard working I help too. I watch him and wait for him to stop and then I bring him my ball so he can throw it and keep his arm loosened up.

That catches you up on my news. I hope everything is going well for you too.

Bye for now,
Bear

2007-07-17T07:44:00.001-05:00

Discipline

Bear has lost 11 pounds. He has stuck to his diet very well. Each day he gets 4 cups of Hills r/d dog food and no people food. He is following the vets orders to a T. It has been easy. On the other hand, I have not been foregoing chips when I come in from work in the evening. I haven't resisted seconds at mealtime, and I haven't said no to blueberry pie with my tea about 9:00 PM every night.

I guess it is easy disciplining other people or animals than it is yourself.

David Vitter would agree.

My 4th blogaversary is Thursday. My writing has really dropped off since May, but it is only a temporary thing. The slowdown started with me working in my yard. Once that gets going, it is hard to stop. Unfortunately, I screwed up both of my knees doing the sod, and I have not been able to get going with my running. Maybe there is something to this getting old thing. Naaaa.

I am going to Lafayette, LA for a Summer Symposium Wednesday through Friday. I will pick up 23 CEU's and have a few laughs in the process. Acquiring CEU's for the license every two years is sometimes a pain in the neck. Now that I go to this thing every year; I don't have to do anything else. Me and a couple of pals share a hotel room. The money we save gets spent in the bar after the sessions.

Here is a phone conversation I had yesterday at work:

The Players:
Me
Lady at an agency in Little Rock, Arkansas

Me: Hi, this is John Strain. I am a social worker at blah blah hospital in Covington, LA. I have a patient who wants to relocate to Little Rock so I am calling to see what programs are available.

Lady: I wouldn't advise it. Arkansas ranks 49th out of 50 states in mental health services.

Me: Who's 50th, Louisiana?

Lady: No, I think it is New Mexico.

Me: Oh, I must have called the Little Rock Chamber of Commerce by mistake.

Lady: (Silence - I don't think she got it.) No this is blah, blah, agency.

Me: Well, just for laughs, could you tell me if there are any group homes in the area?

The rest of the conversation went fairly normally.

Here's to fairly normal,

Until the next time
John Strain

2007-07-04T08:57:00.000-05:00

Happy Birthday America

Until the next time
John Strain

2007-06-30T14:00:00.000-05:00

A great American

This gives me chills; the good kind.

Have a great weekend as we run up to America's birthday.

Until the next time
John Strain

2007-06-27T21:46:00.001-05:00

When is the last time someone asked you for a cup of sugar?

It was a semi-typical Wednesday evening. Barbara and I got home from work about 6:30 PM. Bear had already bolted out the door, ran around the yard wagging his tail looking for his ball to play, and I had retrieved the mail. I dumped my lunch box on the counter and thumbed through the mail. Nothing much, just the gas bill and some advertisements.

I was changing out of my shirt and tie into my "dog walking" clothes when I heard some rumbling in the pantry in the kitchen. I could tell Barbara was looking for something. It sounded the way it must have yesterday morning when I was in that closet. I went to the pantry to get the JIF crunchy peanut butter, but it wasn't there. As I moved things around on the shelf with more and more purpose, I began to resemble a heroin junkie looking for an overdue fix. That is how Barbara was making it sound.

I heard words coming from around the corner, but I couldn't make them out, because her head was deep in the closet looking for something. My best guess is some of the words were the shorter four-letter variety.

Feeling brave I walked out to the kitchen and inquired about the cause of the fracas. "No rice," she said. That was a problem, because the night's menu called for red beans and rice. The rice was half of the meal. Then it happened. From somewhere deep, deep, down in my memory came a remedy. "Why don't you go borrow a cup of rice from the neighbor?"

We both laughed. Our neighbor would probably think that we slipped a cog. After all, when is the last time anyone ever showed up at your door asking for a cup of milk, two eggs, or a couple of drops of vanilla?

When I was a kid, my mother sent me and by sibs to the neighbors frequently. The neighbors came to us as well. If you were out of a commodity, you didn't go to the store, you just walked next door. You only shopped once a week. Who went shopping more than that?

I guess all I can say is times change.

In my memory, summers were spent outdoors. Daytime at the public pool. Evenings playing in the yard as the adults sat in nylon weave lawn chairs. I scoured the garage for a glass jar to hold captured lightning bugs. Then when it was all over, the hose knocked off the day’s dirt and then it was inside for a bath and bedtime.

When I laid down my head, I felt the muggy evening air and went to sleep to a chorus of locusts. I often awoke to the smell of freshly cut grass and the sound of distant lawn mowers. Barking dogs and an occasional passing car broke the general serenity of quiet and singing birds.

Sweet memories and they all poured in just because Barbara couldn't find any rice.

Until the next time
John Strain

2007-06-25T09:54:00.000-05:00

Talk about your bad days

If you think you're having a bad day, just remember that 131 years ago, George Armstrong Custer had a really bad day.

Custer's Last Stand

Maybe that will put things in perspective for you.

Until the next time
John Strain

2007-06-17T08:39:00.001-05:00

Father

Me, Dad, LJ (son), and Geroge (bro) Kansas City June 27, 2002

I have been a son for 50 years and a father for 22 years. I feel more like a father than a son. I marvel at how life takes you over the same ground, but with a twist. I went to first grade as a student and then I went back as a father. Hopefully some day I will do it as a grandfather too.

I remember watching my father and wondering how he could seem content coming home from work, drinking a beer as he surveyed the yard, then winding up in the chair reading the paper. I wondered how he could stay home as I went off on adventures. He seemed happy to just let me go have all the fun.

As a father myself I understand a little better. The adventures change as you age. Now, I am content to stay home as my son voyages off here and there. I am in the support roll. I finance his excursions and I am happy to do it. I give more advice than Ward Cleaver and he pretends to listen.

My father was / is a good example. He was consistent. He provided. He gave me his time and attention. I remember the emotional boost a kind word from him could render. If I knew he was proud of me, I walked on air.

For a boy, it means a lot to be told you are fast, tough, strong, smart, or funny. Fathers have a lot of power in that regard and they can shape men.

What a gift to have a father. What a gift to have a son. For this I need only thank my Heavenly Father, it was His idea.

Even as I write this, the water supply line to my house is leaking. My front yard is nearly ready to be stocked with bass and catfish, but that is OK. I am a father and I know how to handle it, because my own father showed me how.

Here’s to you fathers; take your responsibility seriously, but don’t miss the treasure that is in the day to day. Here’s to you sons; your turn is coming and I hope we prepare you for it well.

Until the next time
John Strain

2007-06-10T10:53:00.001-05:00

They put me on a diet

by Bear

Hi Everyone, its me Bear.

Well, they put me on a diet. Yesterday I went to the vet for my shots and stuff. That would be bad enough by itself, but this time, they added a new twist to the usual torture.

The worst thing is being in the waiting room and staring at "the door". The door is scarey. I can hear the doctor behind it talking and making noises. Sooner or later, he opens the door, looks at me, and says, "Bear, it's your turn. Come on in." I try to straighten my front legs and sit when daddy starts into the room, but he just drags me in by force.

The first thing I had to do was stand on the scale. Before I put my first paw on the thing, the vet was telling my dad, "Gee, Bear looks like he is getting fat." Dad laughed and said it was mama's fault for giving me too much food. But daddy gives me chips and peanut butter, and all kinds of stuff too. Anyway, I weighed 82 pounds and the doctor said I should only weigh about 68 pounds. So I am 20% over weight.

"No problem," the doctor said, he took out a calculator and started doing some figuring. He said I had to eat a special food called r/d. I only get four little measuring cups of it a day. I don't get any table food anymore or my hips will get hurt because I'm fat.

Here I am with my new bag of diet food

These are going to be my "before" photos.

I needed to get in shape anyway, so I am glad. Everyone has been laughing at me though. They have been making jokes at my "expanse." HeeHee.

That's it from down here on the bayou. I hope you don't have to be on the program where you are.

Bear

2007-06-08T07:29:00.001-05:00

Running again

After nearly 6 months of a rebellious groin, I am finally back to running. At least I managed 10 minutes on the treadmill yesterday. I have been working to get back on the road since January. Last years 7 marathons must have taken a toll. Anyway, I have been lifting weights and recently working on the orbital trainer. I tried running on the treadmill for the first time in a while and no pain. No pain after either. Therefore, I am pronouncing myself cured.

I still have to build up smartly, but I am on my way. I have officially removed the "No Running" graphic from the side bar of the blog and replaced it with a photo of my legs running.

Do you feel it? The world is right again. The stars and planets have aligned themselves just right. The hypnotic sound of my shoes pounding on the road and my breathing will soon carry me off to places I have not been for 6 months.

I haven't been climbing the walls, but I have missed running. I missed running in the nice cool spring air, but I still enjoyed it walking Bear Dog and doing yard work. If you can't do something, there is no use whining about it. You just have to make an adjustment.

I am welled up with gratitude right now. I have been given something back that has been lost to me.

Thank you God.

Until the next time
John Strain

2007-06-07T07:21:00.000-05:00

Stop talking and start doing

“We’re going to march!” These words are used as threats and the ultimate form of protest to any corporation or entity that is not willing to drop their pants and bend over for the offended group.

Here in Katrina Land I have heard it a million times. “WE WANT!” “WHY DON’T YOU DO SOMETHING FOR US!” “WAAAAAA!!!!” “BOO HOO!” The national protest leaders have been here, Jesse and Al. They have led marches into the flood-devastated areas of the poor. The middle class folks are somehow not mentioned by these champions of the oppressed.

I have often turned on the TV to see hundreds of able-bodied people walking around carrying signs; looking angry and demanding the government do something.

On one such evening, the following story was about a senior citizen group in the same area working on one house at a time. One 82 year old lady was chipping paint. She stopped working long enough to smile into the camera and say how happy she was to be able to help in some small way.

The reporter asked her about the previous day’s work and if it was tiring. “Well, we worked about 10 hours,” she said, “But then we went out and partied, so I am a little tired.”

What a contrast. The people who stand to benefit from her work are not working to help themselves. They are marching in protest, to demand SOMEONE help them.

These marchers don’t like folks like Bill Cosby who tells them to work, go to school, and stop having babies until you are married and can afford them. He tells them to focus on the solutions and not the problems. He is an Uncle Tom I suppose.

What we have here is a disparity of values. I believe a person is responsible for taking care of their self and their family. Help comes from friends, family, churches, and then government. If the government gives you something, you should be grateful. The help should be very temporary until you can get back in the game and resume handling your own business.

Others believe the government owes them housing, work, healthcare, and food. These are the folks who march, while the first group lends a hand, which is never thanked or acknowledged.

These are people incapable of shame. If they felt shame, they would get off their tails and help themselves instead of letting old ladies do their heavy lifting.

So my advice to them and anyone anywhere waiting for the government or some hand from heaven to help you; MARCH. That’s right MARCH. March over and pick up a hammer and nail, pick up a rake. March to a pile of trash and haul it to the curb. March somewhere and help your self. Help your neighbor. One house at a time, your neighborhood will be rebuilt.

Or you can keep doing what you are doing. Whining on TV believing in leaders who are exploiting you. You can keep waiting for that to work. You have a long wait, because most folks will not help anyone who is not willing to help themselves.

You can say I am hard, I don’t understand, and that I am a racist insensitive prick. See if that solves your problem.

It’s too bad about Katrina, but it is your problem. Do something about it more than just bitch.

Until the next time
John Strain

2007-06-04T06:37:00.000-05:00

Alive

Yes, for those who might wonder, I am alive. Everyone is busy and posting has always been a part of my routine. Lately though, I haven't made the time. This will not stand.

Mr. Creech shamed me yesterday. Thanks Mark. As a matter of fact, Bear does have a post or two in those paws of his and he intends to share his dog thoughts with the human world, complete with photos.

I still have to get my income tax done so I can do John's student loan routine before the end of this month. I hate having that hanging over my head, but I guess not enough to get it done.

Hobo Garden

Though my blog has been neglected, my yard has not. I have worked my arse off the last few weekends and I walk like a question mark to prove it. Flowers are blooming, the sod is taking root, and hedges are trimmed that have not been for more years than I would like to admit.

I still have a big ligustrum hedge with which to contend, but I will win in the end. I am thinking about taking a National Geographic film crew on the expedition as we are sure to find lost civilizations deep within the recesses of the hedges leafy confines.

I know the trash crew hates to pass by my house, because it takes them an hour just to load all of the weekend's clipped vegetation.

Enough with the exaggerating. I have a zillion other things to do.

Until the next time
John Strain

2007-05-28T07:53:00.001-05:00

Gratitude, appreciation, thank you, and Memorial Day

It is a beautiful day in Covington, LA. The birds are singing, the air is cool, and the sun is shining brightly. People will be taking advantage of the Memorial Day sales at the electronics stores and the furniture warehouses. BBQ grills will be fired up all over the country as we celebrate.

Celebrate what?

These days we dole out honor to actors and singers - even the amateurs get star recognition and treatment on shows like American Idol. Sports figures are held in the highest esteem. People clamor to get the latest scoop on the Hollywood bad boys and girls. We honor them with our time and mental attention.

Are they deserving of that time and attention?

What of the "real" reason for Memorial Day?

The last few days I have worked very hard in my yard. Friday was a 13-hour day that had my back on the edge of going out on me. It was very much like running a marathon, because there were moments I did not know if I would be able to physically hold up to complete my job. At stake was $370 worth of sod.

Long story short, I got it done, but it got me to thinking about effort. I thought about all of those men and women who have represented our country in the armed services. I thought about the sacrifices they made in time, in effort, and in blood. As tired as I was, I was able to appreciate them even more. My toil and fatigue was optional and it was trivial. Their sacrifice was essential and part of the high price our citizens have paid time and again for freedom.

Because our people answer the call, we are free. They did the heavy lifting for us. It is like sitting down at a nice table to a meal you did not prepare and then you eat until you are full. Then you get dessert, and then retire to brandy and cigars without a thought to cleaning up the mess.

The media does not make us aware of the sacrifice our men and women are making. They are too busy trying to make us angry about race, religion, and politics. Fox News is running a program entitled "V for Valor." It showcases the bravery of servicemen in recent years. It will help you better appreciate what people are doing for you this very moment. Right now, people are in danger to protect you.

Now is when people start talking about the war is unjust and Bush is a so and so. As if to nullify the sacrifices our servicemen are making. They have not invented the curse word to adequately express my opposition to such comments.

Regardless of politics, those men and women volunteered to serve their country. I am sure a few in the military have signed up for less than noble reasons, but I would contend the majority have a deep vein of patriotism, God, family, and country driving their decision making. They serve to preserve our way of life. They serve bravely and they do it so often and consistently that it has become the standard.

Listen to the medal winners speak. They do not accept the praise. They said they did what they did out of love. They wanted to help their buddy or some innocent citizen. They go onto say they do this because they love their country and their family.

These are people worthy and deserving of our honor and respect. We should treat them accordingly. Make your gratitude tangible and donate to a cause to help these folks.

When you BBQ today, I hope you serve up a great big dish of thanks to these fellow citizens who make it possible for us to live as we do. Their behavior is one of the things that make me so proud to be an American.

Happy Memorial Day folks and here's to all who served and are serving this great country. This is one American who is grateful.

Until the next time
John Strain

2007-05-25T05:36:00.000-05:00

Laying sod

Today the weather should be perfect for the yard work I have slated. Two pallets of sod are to be delivered, but I have a lot of raking and leveling to do before I can do the fun part.

I will have the Bear Cam (Sod Cam) trained on the work area, so watch me sweat.

Have a great Memorial Day Holiday.

Until the next time
John Strain

2007-05-24T06:34:00.000-05:00

Legally blind

Thank goodness I am legally blind. It is bad enough not seeing very well; without having to go to jail for it too.

Oh, and here is what the moon looked like last night from Covington, LA

Until the next time
John Strain

2007-05-23T08:11:00.000-05:00

Once in a blue moon

It seems like I post once in a blue moon. Those of you who are familiar with the term know that; number 1 I am exaggerating, and number 2 this photo is not of a full moon. A blue moon is the second full moon in the same month. That phenomenon only happens every 2.72 years or so - thus the term refers to a rare event.

After I posted Rocky's tribute and his last lift, I felt like leaving it at the top of my page for a while. I have also been pretty busy with more than the usual stuff going on. Presently, I am preparing my yard for two pallets of sod which are to be delivered on Friday. My 50-year-old back ain't what it used to be. I have been getting up early and working in the yard from 6:00 to 7:30 AM digging roots and leveling the patch of earth for the sod.

The photo of the moon above was taken with my Canon S3 IS with a 1.5x teleconverter. I took the photo 5.21.07 at 9:23 PM. The lens was at 3.5 and the shutter was 1/200. I lightened it up a bit in Photoshop.

I have some video projects I want to do and my job really eats into all of my fun time. This is a familiar mantra, but it is also what keeps me from getting bored.

Until the next time
John Strain

2007-05-15T01:01:00.000-05:00

Rock Star

His lifting buddies called him Rock Star. On March 3, 2007 Rocky lifted 285 lbs. in the dead lift to set a world record with the American Powerlifting Association for his age group. Less than two months later, Rocky died of colon cancer. Can you imagine the determination it took to fight gravity with all of that weight?

This is what it looks like to not quit. Rocky never gave up.

Until the next time
John Strain

2007-05-14T07:47:00.000-05:00

In Honor of a Good Man - A Tribute to Donald "Rocky" Rockenbach
November 17, 1931 - April 24, 2007

The memorial service for Rocky went well. It was held at the gym where he worked out and competed as a powerlifter. About 80 people or so were there to pay their respects and we all shared a memorable, service that celebrated the life of a good man.

Rocky’s teammates worked hard to clear the heavy equipment to set up chairs. They set things up as if it were a powerlifting competition. Rocky’s record lift of 285 lbs. Were on the bar up front along with some of Rocky’s things; his bag packed for a road trip, two wood blocks he used for leverage when he did the bench press, his shoes, and his weight belt.

The service began with the theme music from the movie Lonesome Dove. As it played his team carried his ashes to the front and placed them very respectfully.

A video was shown that had contributions from Rocky’s family members and it gave some information about Rocky’s life and times.

I have uploaded the video at YouTube. It is 19:35 in length, but the video is in 6 segments. I have placed them here. Scroll down to read the text of the message delivered at Rocky’s service.

After the video I shared the following words:

In Honor of a Good Man

For I am persuaded that neither death nor life, nor angels nor principalities nor powers, nor things present nor things to come, nor height nor depth, nor any other created thing, shall be able to separate us from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord. (Romans 8:38-39)

Donald “Rocky” Rockenbach was a good man. All of us here know that for different reasons. We were all touched by his life and now we are influenced further by his death. When someone dies what they did for us day to day goes away. We are left with the memories and the pain of that loss. Rocky was a quiet humble man who was content being in the background, but his impact was much more center stage than that. Our hearts tell us that. Our grief tells us that.

We will all die; the question is will we all live? I am not talking about drawing breath. I am talking about appreciating life. Drinking in the wonders that surround us. There are so many treasures around us in nature and in the people we see day to day. Rocky knew that.

He appreciated the outdoors. He loved natural beauty. He enjoyed looking at the sky, noticing subtle changes in plants, and a peacock named Napoleon. Rocky called it a turkey. Rocky knew one of the secrets of happiness; to simply look out his window and see what he could see.

There was a man in the Bible that also appreciated God’s handiwork. His name was David and he wrote many of the Psalms. Psalm 8 in particular describes the beauty of which Rocky was so fond.

O God,
How full of wonder and splendor You are!

I see the reflection of Your beauty
and hear the sounds of Your majesty
wherever I turn.

Even the babbling of babes and the laughter of children
Spell out Your name in indefinable syllables.

When I gaze into the star studded skies
and attempt to comprehend the vast distances,

I contemplate in utter amazement
my Creator’s concern for me.

I am dumbfounded that You
Should care personally about me

And yet You have made me in Your image.

You have called me Your son.

You have ordained me as Your priest
and chosen me to be Your servant.

You have assigned to me the fantastic responsibility
of carrying on Your creative activity.

O God,
How full of wonder and splendor You are!
from the book “Psalms Now” Leslie Brandt

The way Rocky moved through life was with what we call today “old fashioned values.” I wish they weren’t so old fashioned. We can ascertain a man’s values by observing his behavior. Actions speak louder than words.

I don’t think Rocky was ever a Boy Scout, but he would have been a good one. The scout law goes like this; “A scout is trustworthy, loyal, helpful, friendly, courteous, kind, obedient, cheerful, thrifty, brave, clean, and reverent.” Check, that pretty well describes Rocky, but I would have to add strong, persevering, tenacious, hard working, and humorous to that list.

One could count on Rocky. He worked hard his whole life. He never retired. He wasn’t content sitting still; he had to be doing something or fixing something. This was another secret to happiness Rocky knew; the importance of activity. He kept busy. He had projects and when those were completed he had more. If he didn’t have a project, my mother had a list for him. He was the kind of husband that makes the rest of us look bad. He did what his wife told him to do.

Rocky loved a good western. His favorite author was Louis L’Amour. He had many of his books and devoured every one of them. Here are some quotes from Louis L’Amour:

Regarding death he said:
It is the measure of a man to die well. –Last of the Breed
Rocky did that. Though his body was racked with pain and his strength was drained from him he worked to get up and dress everyday. He wanted to live as though it were a normal day. I am told he never complained. So if the measure of a man is to die well, Rocky did that with both strength and dignity.

Louis L’Amour also wrote regarding death:
When I die, remember that what you knew of me is with you always. What is buried is only the shell of what was. Do not regret the shell, but remember the man. Remember the father. –Last of the Breed.

I think Rocky would agree with those words. “Remember the man.”

So Rocky lived; but he also lives. He lives on in our memories and he lives on as we continue to carry out his legacy.

His legacy is in the kind of life he lived. It was in the family from which he came, his parents, his siblings, his children, and all those he adopted along the way. Rocky’s family extends far beyond blood. You know what I am talking about. Chances are that if you are sitting here today you are one of Rocky’s extended brothers or sisters or sons and daughters.

We are his legacy. The way we honor that is to take the torch from his hand and carry it forward. The torch we carry is to live the kind of life he lived. To value honesty and hard work, to appreciate natural beauty and those treasures all around us. To be a good friend, to laugh, to compete and to leave the world a better place.

That is how you honor someone. You carry on what they did. The beauty in this is that if we live like Rocky lived we will learn the secrets he knew. You see happiness is a byproduct of our actions. You can’t acquire happiness by doing any one thing or by getting any one thing. Happiness comes from doing many things and doing them every day. Rocky knew that too.

In Boy Scouts we were taught that you leave a campsite better than you found it. Even if it was dirty when we arrived, we were to leave it clean and with a fresh stack of firewood. Rocky was like that too. He is leaving us in a better condition than when he found us. God has enriched us through him.

Rocky had a big heart, and as the Wizard of Oz told the Tin Man, A heart is not judged by how much you love; but by how much you are loved by others.

Can there be a better legacy?

Here’s to Donald “Rocky” Rockenbach – a good man.

Until the next time
John Strain

2007-05-10T17:34:00.000-05:00

Heading North

I have been busy making the DVD for Rocky’s memorial service and preparing the message. It has been a labor of love, because he deserves my efforts and a whole lot more.

Friday, Barbara and I will be driving to Missouri and the service will be Saturday afternoon. Sunday we drive home and Monday it is back to work. Too bad we can’t stay longer, but it will be nice being with the family.

Eventually, I will post the text of the service and possibly parts of the video.

Next week, I should be back to my normal posting.

Until the next time
John Strain

2007-05-04T06:17:00.001-05:00

It wasn't that long ago

Life goes by quickly. The older I get, the more I realize this. Below is a photo of my mother and Rocky; both 17 years old with their lives ahead of them. (click for larger image).

I scanned in a few photos I received from Becky and Rocky's family and you can see them here.

Photos of Rocky

Have a great weekend folks. Since life goes by so quickly make sure you enjoy it.

Until the next time
John Strain

2007-05-03T06:51:00.000-05:00

Look ma, no beard

I have had a beard since 1980; that's 27 years. When I was at Manresa a week or so ago, I decided to shave it off just to see what was underneath it. Bear still remembered me, but it took Barbara some getting used to. I think she feels like she is cheating on her husband. I say that is guilt free cheating, ha.

No beard after 27 years

The Moon through the Louisiana pines on May 1, 2007

Until the next time
John Strain

2007-05-02T05:47:00.000-05:00

I'm still here

I have been spending a lot of time preparing for Rocky's memorial service for May 12. I am making a video and preparing the words. I want to do a good job; he deserves it. Therefore, posts will be sparse until I feel I am on top of the task.

I get to have a root canal today, yipppeee.

Until the next time
John Strain

2007-04-27T07:20:00.000-05:00

Memories

I was looking through my photos of Rocky and this one struck me. It was taken in April of 2005 in Boston. That was the first year I ran the Boston Marathon and Rocky was there to share in the realization of my dream.

This is the day after the marathon. We were sitting in a restaurant on Boylston Street not far from the finish line. In true Rocky fashion, he had already made up his mind about what to order, while mom continued to peruse the menu. He was a meat and potatoes guy; no adventure for Rocky when it came to food.

Until the next time
John Strain

2007-04-26T07:00:00.000-05:00

A poem for Rocky

On Tuesday evening my mother lost her husband Rocky to colon cancer. He was her high school sweet heart. They went their separate ways after graduation but were reunited at a 50th high school reunion. They were married and spent 6 wonderful years together.

The world has lost a good man. He was the kind of man that made this country great; hard working, honest, gentle, loyal, and good humored. His favorite author was Louis L'Amour.

I will write more about Rocky later, but for now i want to post a poem from Louis L'Amour and dedicate it to Rocky.

A Handful of Stars

Give me, O night, a blessing
  Of peace, and a handful of stars-
Give me, O dawn, a beginning,
  New life, and a healing of scars;
Give me, O day, a freshening
  Of spirit, and warmth in the sun-
Give me, O earth, of thy bounty,
  Strength for the task I've begun.

Leave me, O night, of your stillness
  A calm for my inward soul-
Leave me a breath of your darkness
  To cool me, and keep me whole;
Leave me the wind in the willows
  The roll of the surf and sea--
Leave me, Beloved, my memories
  Of dreams you have given to me.

-Louis L'Amour, Smoke From This Altar

Here's to Rocky - a good man

Until the next time
John Strain

2007-04-23T07:17:00.001-05:00

Manresa on the Mississippi

Early will I seek thee. Psalm 63:1

Every year about this time I attend a silent retreat at Manreas on the Mississippi. It is a Jesuit retreat house in Convent, LA. I have been there 9 of the last 10 years.

The landscape is beautiful as this photo suggests. I have several pages of Manresa photos on my picture page (click photo link on the banner above). This year I snapped some nice early morning shots. As the sun was coming up, fog shrouded the ancient grounds.

2007 Photos

Until the next time
John Strai

2007-04-19T01:01:00.000-05:00

The best day of my life

An open letter to my son on his 22nd birthday

Dear John,
I wanted to tell you about the best day of my life. You might think it would be difficult to choose one day out of 50 years that stands out as the best day. Believe me when I tell you, that it is easy.

I have had a lot of good days. Graduations come to mind, running the Boston Marathon, getting married; and other things I can't tell you about were all good days. The best day of all, hands down is the day you were born.

I was there when you were born. I remember the scene vividly. When the doctor told me I had a son, I stood speechless. I welled up with pride and I had a big lump in my throat. So many feelings were racing around in me and thoughts were flying through my mind.

After that day, I walked taller. I don't quite know what happens, but when a man has a family of his own, it changes him. It changes him for the better. I hope someday you will know what I am talking about through your own experience. I hope you get to be there when your son is born and I hope you feel that same sense of pride, wonder, and awe.

It has been fun watching you grow for the last 22 years. I am proud of you and I am glad God put us together.

So Happy Birthday son. You have been a joy. I just wanted you to know that your father loves you very much.

Love,
Dad

2007-04-17T18:58:00.000-05:00

A fine tribute

This video was supposedly created by a 15 year old girl. Kids like her make me believe the future of this country will be OK.

We owe our brave men and women our respect, and our gratitude. Their duty is to place themselves between us and harms way and they do it with honor and the highest degree of professionalism.

Thank you folks from a grateful American.

Until the next time
John Strain

2007-04-15T07:32:00.001-05:00

The Sneetches

Video by John

What can a children's story from the early 1960's teach us today?

Plenty.

In fact, our society is much in need to hear and implement the teachings of Dr. Seuss in this story.

Choose any topic in the area of race, religion, or politics and you will probably find people with raised voices, bulging eyes, and protruding veins on their necks. Folks do a lot more talking these days than they do listening.

There is little discussion and much screaming of talking points. Perhaps they should be called screaming points. Why all the vitriol?

Somewhere along the line Americans decided to stop allowing freedom of speech unless they agree with the speech. When I was growing up, I used to hear this phrase:

I may not agree with what you say, but I will fight to the death to defend your right to say it.

I heard more than one WWII Vet say that and I figure those words were not idle chatter.

Today, things are off tilt. We have adopted the Jerry Springer method of debate. That is when at least two ignorant people talk about something neither one knows anything about. The talk quickly escalates to yelling, finger pointing, name calling, and then finally, fisticuffs or other forms of violence.

We are a society of wimps who cannot handle a contrary opinion or a characterization of which we do not agree. Instead of writing the speech off as something we do not agree with, we now become offended. Like babies we cry for apologies and demand money.

When I was a kid and someone called you a name on the playground the philosophy was, “Sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never harm me.”

Those who ran and told the teacher were scorned as “tattle tales.”

“Words will never harm me,” is a state of mind. The only words that can harm a person are the words they take on and believe.

These days, words seem to harm a lot of people. Are they really harmed or are they simply jumping at a perceived opportunity to gain politically or financially?

On the other hand, people find it completely appropriate to lie and misrepresent. Rules of logic are ignored and discussion goes nowhere.

Citizens and good neighbors have a responsibility to speak truthfully and with respect. Tolerance grows out of an honest mind.

The press is not a source of news, but a catalyst to inflame any situation. They look for conflict like a starving man searches for food. If they cannot find conflict, they create it where it did not exist.

At times, my voice is raised and perhaps I don’t listen like I should. I will hurl insults with the best of them. I get angry and exhibit the very behaviors I detest in others. This post is an attempt to light a candle instead of cursing the darkness.

At some point we need to stop talking about the problem and work on a solution.

Sylvester McMonkey McBean said, "You can't teach a Sneetch," but the Sneetches proved him wrong. Granted they had to lose all of their money before they learned, but they learned just the same.

I know I am preaching to the choir here, but it is important to stand up and say what is right and what is true. Arguing, misrepresentation, violence, and repression of thought lead to destruction. Folks need to lighten up. We need to separate issues from people.

I can like someone with whom I do not agree on a topic, it just takes a little more effort.

Until the next time
John Strain

2007-04-09T20:16:00.000-05:00

They all axed for you

Here is another presentation of some of the zoo photos. I chose a very familiar song for the background to those of us who live on the bayou. The Meters sing, "They all asked for you." This song gets the most play around Mardi Gras, but it is quite appropriate with these photos as you will see.

Enjoy.

Until the next time
John Strain

2007-04-07T12:30:00.000-05:00

A day at the Zoo

Sometimes you are aware in the moment; that the time you are having is going to be one of those days you remember and cherish as long as you live. Friday, April 6, 2007 (Good Friday) was one of those days.

Barb, John, and I went to the zoo. These days, we don't do things as a family that much, but Friday we were all together. We all love the zoo and have gone many times. New Orleans has a great zoo. I haven't been since the hurricane.

It is a special treat going to the zoo and a time to reminice. It doesn't seem like that long ago when John was a little tike running around and wide eyed at the wonders of nature. Fortunately all of us are still wide eyed with those same wonders. Some things are best not outgrown.

So come along and see what we saw. Have a look at the photos. There are 3 alblums, so visit each one.

Audubon Zoo Album 1
Audubon Zoo Album 2
Audubon Zoo Album 3

Enjoy.

Until the next time
John Strain

2007-04-04T07:16:00.000-05:00

Lycanthropy?

I woke up this morning with a fuller beard than usual. I had a strange taste in my mouth. My t-shirt was dirty and had blood stains on it. I couldn't make out the taste in my mouth, but it was foreign to me. I felt strange; almost hung over. When I went out to get the paper, I noticed my front door was off of its hinges. Bear looked at me strangely; almost in fear.

I still didn't think much about all of these strange goings on. A further survey of the yard yielded what looked to be the haunches of a large animal. OK, now things were becoming officially strange. I poured a cup of coffee and flipped on the radio. The announcer was talking about something that had terrorized our local animal reserve last night. A gazelle was killed and mutilated, but the authorities are at a loss to explain just what killed it and how.

When I lifted the cup of coffee to my face, I noticed dark thick hair on my knuckles. Then I remembered the bite. Of course, a full moon too, that explains everything.

I need to back up a bit.

Last week, I was sitting in my office unwrapping a 6" tuna on wheat from Subway, when I heard a louder than normal utterance of my name. "JOHN!" I heard it again, then a third time. I half ignored it, because we have a patient named John. Many times in the past few days, I have responded to my name only to learn the nurse was talking to the patient and not me.

Something about the volume and pitch of the nurse though pried me away from my sandwich to go out and investigate. By the time I took a few steps toward the nurses station, I realized that a patient was behind the desk attacking the nurse.

Fortunately, the attacker was a 65-year-old lady, but she was a tough 65. I ran to the scene and grabbed (I'll call her Florence) from behind and pulled her away from the nurse (I'll call her Sue). Florence and I danced around for a minute or so. I didn't want to hurt her and I didn't want to let her go so she could resume attacking Sue. Other staff was off of the unit with the rest of the patients who were in the cafeteria eating lunch, so I had to keep Florence busy until help arrived.

Florence kept fighting. I was just controlling her and keeping her from hurting anyone. She was after Sue's keys. Her plan was to get the keys and let herself out. In the process of my dance with Florence, she bent over and bit me on the forearm. I saw it coming, but I couldn't get out of the way. Sue saw it too and helped get her teeth free of my arm, but not before the skin was broken. I didn't know it at the time though it was only after we got Florence in the seclusion room and gave her a shot to calm her down that I noticed the blood.

On the way out of the seclusion room I noticed a drop of blood on my arm. I washed up good and noticed two places where Florence's choppers broke my skin. The worst part of the whole thing was I had to go to the Redi Med to be seen by an MD. I felt like a wuss because I routinely hurt myself 10 times worse than this on any given weekend and I just shake it off.

But protocol is protocol. So, long story short, I go to the doc and they give me a tetanus shot and draw my blood to make sure I don't have Hep C or HIV. The doc said the person biting is more at risk than the bitee. I joked about that very thing earlier. Folks were concerned about me, but I deflected the concern by saying, “You better keep checking her vision; she may go blind after biting me.”

I thought that was the end of the story, but last night was a full moon and apparently, I turned into a werewolf, tore the front door off of its hinges, ran to the Global Wildlife Animal Reserve and took down a gazelle.

I guess from now on, I am going to have to plan my life around the moon phases. Oh well, that's life.

I guess I better Google "werewolves" and see if there is anything I can do short of a silver bullet.

Until the next time
John Strain

2007-04-02T07:30:00.000-05:00

Is it worth it?

I was a Cub Scout and a Boy Scout. My brother was too. My sister was a Blue Bird and a Campfire Girl. My dad was a scout master and my mother was a den mother for Cub Scouts and a leader for Blue Birds and Campfire Girls.

As a kid, I breezed through my scouting adventures oblivious to the hard work and sacrifice my father made. I am sure my brother and sister would say the same thing. Our parents were involved and it cost them time and effort.

At the Grand Canyon wearing a Boy Scout T-shirt

If you have read Sally's writings about her Girl Scout leader adventures, you get a pretty good idea of what is involved. There are lots of meetings and trainings to attend, there are difficult people to work with, and there are issues that come up with your own child to workout. One does not always know "the answer" and there are loads of challenges, costs, and insecurities to handle.

From time to time, such leaders must ask themselves, "Is it worth it?"

Is it worth giving up weekday evenings and various weekends to be exposed to people you would rather avoid than do volunteer work with?

Is it worth being the "heavy" because it is the right thing to do and having all of the kids hate you?

Is it worth the certain occasional issues that come up trying to balance being a parent to your child and treating them like an equal in the group? You will be accused of playing favorites by some kids and their parents, and you will field protests from your own child that you aren't being fair to them.

I suppose each leader has to answer these questions. These are the things that don't appear in the leadership recruitment brochures.

When adults volunteer to help their children in a group, whether it is scouts or sports, they have a vision in their mind. They have an idealized, Norman Rockwell scene playing in their mind's eye. Then the reality of the setting slaps them awake, but by then it is too late to retreat.

I love the scene in the movie Parenthood. Steve Martin was a baseball coach and he encouraged / made his son of about 8 or 9 play second base. Suddenly, the batter popped up a pitch and it was headed for his son. As the ball flew through the air awaiting the catch, the viewer was given a glimpse inside Steve Martin’s head. It was in the future and his son was receiving a college degree. The son was making a speech and he said, “I want to thank my Dad, for making me play second base.”

Back to reality, the ball came down in his son’s glove, but he couldn’t hold it. They lost the game and his son was the goat. Again, we were given a glimpse inside Steve Martin’s head. This time, it was an emergency scene. One heard gunshots and people were taking cover. “He’s in the tower,” someone said. Then the camera panned over and you heard someone “obviously the son” shouting from the tower, “You made me play second base.”

We imagine one thing but get another.

I can relate myself. I coached baseball and basketball. There were times I really did not want to go to the field or the gym on a Friday night or a Saturday morning or afternoon. It seemed such a sacrifice. My grass needed to be cut. My shed needed to be cleaned out. I had to pay my bills.

I always told myself, "Someday, you will want to see John play basketball and you won't be able to. This is temporary." I was right. John is 22 now. I don't have to go to anymore games. But you know what? My grass still needs to be cut, my shed still needs to be cleaned, and I still have bills to pay.

I know my parents both grew from their experience as leaders. To this day, they both spout words of wisdom taken straight from the leadership seminars or scout manuals. My mother would tell all of us at times things like, "Always finish what you begin." I think that is some sort of Blue Bird motto.

Scouting drilled good values into my head. We recited the scout pledge and the scout laws at each meeting. We took off our hats, placed our hand over our heart and said the pledge of allegiance at every meeting. We learned respect and patriotism.

It meant a lot to have my parents involved as leaders. I was proud of them and they provided another level of security that I enjoyed.

Now that I have grown up and had my shot at enjoying the sacrifice others made for me and making the sacrifice myself, I have no regrets. I think it was because my parents led by example that I felt a certain obligation to step up when it was my turn.

The value of volunteering is immeasurable. It pays dividends from now until the end of your days. I profited as a child experiencing scouts and enjoying the sacrifice my parents made. As an adult, my leadership ability was enhanced by my earlier experiences and I persevered because I had a good example from which to learn.

So is it all worth it? It was for me.

Until the next time
John Strain

2007-03-31T13:58:00.000-05:00

Schizophrinic rant

Schizophrenia is a terrible disease. It literally takes away the person that was or the person that could have been. It is not a funny thing at all. The disease destroys or stresses families to the limit.

I work with people that have schizophrenia. They are still people and live day to day like anyone else does. They have a routine, they have places they go, and they have things that they do.

One person with schizophrenia once told me that she had a broken brain. That is a good description of what it is and what it does.

That said, sometimes folks with schizophrenia can say something that is so funny you have to laugh. The following is one of those things.

This lady came to us from another facility. I will reprint what the triage nurse wrote from the referring facility. She captured a small slice of someone with schizophrenia, off of their medication, elevated, and on a rant.

Arrival per ambulance, pt found on the side of the road, states she felt like she was going to have a seizure so she layed down on the road. On arrival here, the pt is talking non-stop , states, "You know I used to be a brain surgeon but I lost so many MF'ing patients, I had to go into research, and then I went to work for the CIA and I was an assassin, I killed so many MF'ing people all over the world, I used to be built like a brick house and they called me Ice Baby, when I wore my mini skirt and bent over I caused a lot of MF'ing wrecks. Did I tell you I was raised in a satanic cult and they used to put me in coffins all the time, they took my spine out one time. You better take your paycheck and buy your family an uzi and shoot all the MF'ers you can because the anarchy is coming. I used to be a junkie and if I had some heroine right now, I'd shoot that MF'ing shit up all day."

I am sure the patient went on, but you get the idea.

Aren't you glad you don't have her problems?

Until the next time, I am thanking God for relatively stable mental health.
John Strain

2007-03-28T06:44:00.001-05:00

Simple pleasures

There are few things in this world more satisfying than that first cup of coffee in the morning. I'll take mine black. That way I never have to hunt a spoon and the rainbow color choices of sweeteners. I don't have to worry about tracking down milk or Coffee Mate either.

Sometimes in the afternoon on a Sunday, I will pour some of the leftover cold coffee in a cup half way, add milk, microwave, and enjoy. A little caffe' au lait never hurt anybody that wasn’t lactose intolerant.

I wrote about this back in 2003 so I won't rewrite it here.

So, after I finish the coffee, it is time to strap on the running shoes and run. The trouble is I have been sidelined since January due to a pulled groin muscle.

I am slowly improving. I thought I was almost healed so like a moron I worked out harder and ran some. Now it hurts again. Hopefully, it is only a minor set back.

I have the coffee, but the running still eludes me. Somebody hand me a hanky, boo hoo. OK I feel better now. Who says men can't cry?

How about that sign at the top of the post showing coffee for a nickel? Those were the days. Now it will cost you nearly $5.00. Thank God I don't smoke because I'll pay the five bucks for the coffee if I have to. I am sure I would do the same for a smoke if I had that monkey on my back.

Rats, my coffee got cold. Guess I'll have to get a refill. Bear is bugging me for his simple pleasure - the morning walk.

Duty calls. I hope you are enjoying your java or whatever it is you enjoy, and I hope it is just the beginning of a great day for you.

Until the next time
John Strain

2007-03-27T07:21:00.001-05:00

Sojourner

It is both a comfort and a fear that life changes. We are sojourners, not staying anywhere or in any situation for long. If your life isn’t going well this may be comforting, but if your life is good, you may have a nagging anxiety that it will someday slip away.

How do we cope with the change and the uncertainty? How do we press on, get up each morning, and go about our day? Some do it by not thinking about it. This is the stuff of existential angst.

We are finite. We will get old and deteriorate. Our quality of life will peak and then decline over time. Our friends, our things, ourselves will someday all be gone. Before you go rush off to find a razor blade or that pistol in your nightstand just think for a moment.

The folks who cope with these things do not avoid thinking about them, but use the knowledge of their certainty to wring out the most from life day by day and moment by moment.

We can let years go by as we amble drone like through a mundane routine, or we can enjoy the beauty and wonder of life as we take our one-time lap around the track.

The wise men, poets, and philosophers usually conclude that our relationships are our treasure. The simple moments are the diamonds, and the laughter is the medicine that fuels our happiness.

We can distract ourselves with fighting and anger. We can be bitter about our jobs, politics, and competition, but this attitude is a cancer that eventually destroys us a little at a time until we are without joy, becoming more and more cynical.

We choose each day which path to take. After a while, it becomes second nature. As the years go by, the path we have taken shows on our face and in our heart. Anger and bitterness or happiness and appreciation are the results.

We are sojourners, walking through life. We are influenced and in turn we influence. What kind of an influence are you? Do you add joy and laughter to those around you or are you part of the bitterness, anger, and enmity?

Life will never be perfect. At least in my experience my dreams have always exceeded my grasp. However, when I look over my shoulder at my past, I see how the disappointments have strengthened me and the blessings are beyond number.

Life goes on and it will go on after me. It will never be just what I want, but like an ice cream cone on a hot day, my choice is to enjoy it or let it melt into a pool of wasted pleasure.

At the end of the day, the simple things like a happy dog, a star I know by name, and a cup of hot tea all tell me that my worries are insignificant. My treasures cannot be taken from me because they are timeless and free.

Godspeed fellow sojourners.

Until the next time
John Strain

2007-03-26T07:22:00.001-05:00

LIVESTRONG

I found a song on the Lance Armstrong Foundation website.

It is called Maybe Tonight Maybe Tomorrow by an Austin, TX band named Wideawake. The song is about someone who has just learned they have cancer.

I would like to dedicate the song today to Ellen and Rocky.

For those two and for the rest of us; I challenge you to LIVESTRONG.

Until the next time
John Strain

2007-03-21T06:54:00.001-05:00

Spring

Spring is here. We are enjoying some of the best weather of the year right now. Soon the humidity will be near the triple digits and the southern heat will be stifling, but not just yet.

Bear by the azaleas

Beauregard eating corn at his feeder

The trees are full of leaves, the azaleas are blooming, sweet smells of fragrant blooms hang in the air, and the birds add a perfect soundtrack to a wonderful gestalt.

The mornings and evenings are cool but not too cool. The sun shines brightly during the day, but not too hot. These are the few days of the year like the ones in the fall that no one complains about.

The lucky folks know this and drink it in. Life is that way. We have to drink it in and experience it or it will go on unnoticed and unappreciated like an unopened present. How many days and moments have we ignored or missed because we were preoccupied with "important" things? What is more important than living?

I know spring hasn't sprung everywhere. You may be in the last throws of winter where you are, but I can testify to the fact that spring is in Louisiana and headed north.

Now my favorite springtime poem: Thanks mom for teaching it to me.

The year's at the spring
The year's at the spring
And day's at the morn;
Morning's at seven;
The hillside's dew-pearled;
The lark's on the wing;
The snail's on the thorn:
God's in His heaven—
All's right with the world!
-Robert Browning

Enjoy your day and sip from the cup of springtime; it only comes once a year.

Until the next time
John Strain

2007-03-15T06:30:00.000-05:00

FREE NCAA TICKETS: Men's Basketball Tournament New Orleans

Folks, if you are in the New Orleans area and would like to attend the NCAA Men's Basketball Tournament at the New Orleans arena let me know. I have 2 tickets I can't use and I just want to give them to someone who would enjoy attending the games.

The tickets are for the first round, session one, Friday, March 16th.

Games:
Memphis (30-3) vs. North Texas (23-10) 11:30 a.m.
Nevada (28-4) vs. Creighton (22-10) apprx. 2 p.m.

Until the next time
John Strain

2007-03-13T07:33:00.000-05:00

St Patrick's Day Parade Slide Show

The parade was its usual spectacle of green and smiles. It was a beautiful day and a nice way to spend a Sunday afternoon. What more could one ask for than to have fun with family and friends?

The music doesn't play all the way through. Chalk it up to haste makes waste.

Until the next time
John Strain

John's Online Journal

New Location for John's Online Journal

New Blog Coming Soon

Finding Meaning

Testing

George Wesley Strain, Sr.January 31, 1925 - March 19, 2009

Post op

Olympia Parade 2009

Under the knife

Time and Memories

Moving on

Party's over

Bakers dozen

Some gave all

Home sweet home

Dear Barbara (Part 4)

Dear Barbara (Part 3)

Dear Barbara (Part 2)

Dear Barbara

An autumn post

Good luck Texas

Camping out

Seeking normal

Coming back

Power gone

Fashionably late

Thanks in advance

Sunday Morning in Covington

Gustav

Why

Jott is the neatest...

Art Sale

It's Me!

Digital Books

On your mark . . .

Woof

The job

The last post title was too ambitious

The return of ambition

Depression

25 years of marriage

Focus

Love

Resisting the lure of settling

Ambient Noise

2007 Highlights

Unfinished business

I like Frank's sense of humor

Perspective

A haunting past

The doctor is in

Beep

Changing Jobs

Voices

Why not send Social Security checks directly to the drug dealers?

How to spell "arithmetic"

Labor on Labor Day

Role Models

Love the iMac

Deja vu

Another day in paradise

A chip on the shoulder

Call me skinny

Discipline

Happy Birthday America

A great American

When is the last time someone asked you for a cup of sugar?

Talk about your bad days

Father

They put me on a diet

Running again

Stop talking and start doing

Alive

Gratitude, appreciation, thank you, and Memorial Day

Laying sod

Legally blind

Once in a blue moon

Rock Star

In Honor of a Good Man - A Tribute to Donald "Rocky" RockenbachNovember 17, 1931 - April 24, 2007

Heading North

George Wesley Strain, Sr.
January 31, 1925 - March 19, 2009

In Honor of a Good Man - A Tribute to Donald "Rocky" Rockenbach
November 17, 1931 - April 24, 2007