Library Diaries, Vol. 5: Selfish Scoundrels vs. Prototypes of Goodness

Some scoundrels dance in the lighting at night yet act like hypocrites as they iron creases in their clothes the next morning. They are selfish beasts in the pale moonlight, dangerous conceded creatures. Monsters of selfishness that can cut like a knife. These people may not lose, but they won’t win completely.

Others fight the good fight. Those who deserve to win the competition. Prototypes of goodness that are fit for mass production. From the outside looking in they are as pure as from the inside looking out. They understand that being good is not as important as being kind. They may not win, but they will never lose completely.

Who will win the competition? What will the world become? Will the world be owned by the hypocritical corrupt swine? Or by the ones fighting the good fight?

But more importantly, which one are you?

vol 5

**Click the “Menu” bar and select “Library Diaries: Going Gonzo” to see my Library Diaries page.

I didn’t want to get married, but then I climbed.

“Raise your hand if you plan to never get married.” On a Monday morning my college sociology professor walked into the classroom and started his lecture with that statement.

Out of thirty students in the class only two raised their hand—I was one of them.

“19-year-old me” put her hand in the air, and when my professor asked “why?” I replied, “I don’t see myself being a wife. I can accomplish everything I want to accomplish on my own. I don’t need anyone.”

I wanted to climb the mountain of life alone; I didn’t want to be contained, I wanted to battle the tempest storms of life on a solo adventure. I wanted to make it to the top of the mountain, look behind me, and know that I did it on my own.

Now, let’s jump forward 8 years; I’m in an adventure called marriage with a wonderful man. We climb the mountain together. Everyday, we wake up, and we climb; sometimes there are storms—but we are together. Sometimes we get lost—but we are together. Some days the climb is like a rollercoaster, and others it’s like a sweet lullaby—and we are always climbing together.

I believed that I didn’t need anyone—and I don’t like to admit it when I’m wrong—but I was wrong. I need him to make it up the mountain. To love him is to need him…. And with him, the mountain looks like a grain of sand.

Wedding Kiss

Library Diaries, Vol. 4: A 26.2 Mile Joy Ride

Between the hot yellow line and the asphalt he asked me “just do me one last favor, hold with this crazy roller coaster till the end.”

I didn’t know what he meant, was it his spontaneity or the euphoria?

At one point I asked myself “Can this thing be squeezed out? Can the wretched warmth be battled and noxious soreness be conquered?”

The thought of failure arouses contempt in my heart, the thought of quitting is utterly erroneous.

It was a 26.2 mile joy ride, and we were at mile 20. Why would I do this? Because I’m a prototype like no other.

Jordan shoots baskets. Bocephus writes songs. Ali throws punches. Runners go running. Crazy runners run marathons.

marathon**Click the “Menu” bar and select “Library Diaries: Going Gonzo” to see my Library Diaries page.

 

Fate, Beauty, and Bruised At Bat

Now look at him, fulfilling his fate…

Many have stood in the box before, and many will after… hundreds of years from now someone will be pitching, someone will be swinging, and courageous fans will be howling at the crack of the bat.

But for this moment in time, his moment, can he take it? Living the big time beauty of America’s greatest pastime? Can he get the hit?

Ya see, the first one was a brushback. Thrown high and inside to intimidate our batter—strike.

The brain starts working… “make the fast pitches come in slow”, “stay with the high ones”, and “don’t crowd the plate”.

The second was a change up, deceptive—strike.

Fate. The beauty of victory. The bruise of defeat. Who will win the showdown?

It’s time—the wind up… and the pitch. The rest is history.

baseball

The Thing Unbroken

You can break a promise. Break a bone. Break a record. You can even breakdance. But there is one thing you can’t break, and that’s my spirit.

We have cardiovascular, neurological, pulmonary, and renal functions that keep us alive. However, there is one thing unaccounted for in most medical books—the human spirit.

Life gets tough sometimes. Curve balls are thrown, and we have to learn how to swerve. But sometimes the metaphorical baseball hits us right in the side of the head—and that’s where human spirit comes in. We have to get up and keep moving forward.

Some would call it grit— getting back up and moving forward when our hearts are broken, bodies are broken, and brains are exhausted… When all seems lost we have the grit of human spirit to keep us going.

The grit of human spirit helped Louis Zamperini survive WWII, I bet it helped Martin Luther King Jr. write the “I have a dream” speech, and it has helped me keep moving every time I get hit with a metaphorical fast pitch.

Be unbreakable.

great wall

WordPress Prompt: Broken

The Ephemeral Moment that Created the Perfect Photo

Everyone has that “perfect wedding photo”. The one they put on the ‘thank you’ card, post on Facebook, and use as their profile picture for a year after the wedding. This blog is not about “that photo”… It is about the ephemeral instant that makes the perfect photo happen.

My ephemeral wedding preparation instant was luckily caught on camera. It’s me, standing between barn doors, holding the Best Man’s Mason jar as he prepares my dress. The result (view below) was an elegant southern masterpiece.

Don’t all pictures have an ephemeral moment?

photo 1

photo 2

Daily Prompt: Ephemeral

Library Diaries, Vol. 3: Gonzo in a Snowstorm

The decision to flee came simultaneously with the devilish-way of the white substance that was falling from the grey tortured sky. To go outside would be to fight the strange madness that the tainted mistress, Mother Nature, has thrust upon us.

I’m certain, by now, that the people have rushed out in droves to gather their milk and their bread. The stores, at this time, are probably desolate.

With good interest in mind, the smart man would stay at home. Weather persons have advised us, like a Gonzo attorney, to slow down on the twisted, black ice, roads. I advise, like a person of experience, to stay off the doomed and cold white roads.

We’ve seen blizzards before, but the likes of this was fast and unforgiving. Flood, blizzard, ice, no power. Snowmaggedon.

snowmaggedon

**Click the “Menu” bar and select “Library Diaries: Going Gonzo” to see my Library Diaries page.