Everything Breaks

Everything Breaks

Some small and fragile works

Fall victim to strong hands

That violate their rest.

They snap!

And fall in worthless pieces

As they shatter to the ground.

Other common and cheap things

Die quickly from design

That insures they will not last.

They crumble.

And rest in cans of trash

As they await the refuse man.

The strongly formed creations

Pass slowly in good use

That constant strain demands.

They expire.

And lie in honored rest,

As they rust or fade away.

Great wonders of natural design

Cease not before the eyes

That constantly stare in awe.

They disappear.

And satisfy a God

As He changes all born in time.

Your Image of Me

Your Image of Me

I know your image of me is what you hoped I’d be.

I never meant to hurt a heart that put such hope in me.

I confess the wrong of living days you are not in mind,

And admit such times will come when I am still unkind.

My worst faults are deep, cold veins of the blackest coal.

To extract them now would carve open wounds into my soul.

So I walk my walk with haunting ghosts of old memories.

I conjure them to understand the pieces of what used to be.

There is a saint to grant all grace you most dearly deserve,

A perfect soul to seek and praise all things he does observe.

With angelic arms he wraps you in a dream caress

As you lay your head upon his sinless pious chest.

His words are balms that soothe and heal life’s deepest scars.

His hands frame your moon-lit face shining among the stars.

But heavenly powers are means of love I cannot possess.

So, defective as I am in form, I must confess.

I may never reach the marks that you have planned for me.

My imperfect love shows stains for all the world to see.

Bethany Buckle Treece Travels to Haight-Ashbury

Bethany Buckle Treece, a friend and an ex-student of mine, sent me some very interesting information about her work in San Francisco. I thought I might share her story with you so that you might better understand some very unique and valuable work she has done. Bethany was a student at Mount Vernon Nazarene College in Mount Vernon, Ohio, in 1991. The summer before her senior year, she and three other girls from Indiana and Tennessee were assigned by Mission to the Cities to work in the Haight-Ashbury District of San Francisco, California. Bethany lived during that summer at 124 Lyon Street on the 4th floor of an old Victorian home known as the Oak Street House, a headquarters for several mission groups from various Christian colleges. On the 3rd floor several homeless men made their residence. Offices occupied the 2nd floor and a living area was housed on the 1st floor. The history of the counterculture of the '60s found many roots in the district.Haight-Ashbury's elaborately detailed, 19th-century multi-story wooden houses became a haven for hippies during the 1960s, due to the availability of cheap rooms and vacant properties for rent or sale in the district; property values had dropped in part because of the proposed freeway. The bohemian subculture that subsequently flourished there took root, and to a great extent, has remained to this day. San Francisco and the Haight gained a reputation as the center of illegal drug culture and rock-and-roll lifestyles by the mid '60s. By 1967, the neighborhood's fame chiefly rested on the fact that it became the haven for a number of important psychedelic rock performers. Artists like Jefferson Airplane, the Grateful Dead, and Janis Joplin all lived a short distance from the famous intersection. Of course, the flower power movement also produced its own share of problems. Thousands of youth migrated to the Haight-Ashbury district, including many runaway teenagers, irrevocably altering the social structure of the neighborhood and the world's views of San Francisco as a city. This new population that had migrated to the Haight-Ashbury contributed to a growing medical crisis caused by increased drug use and lack of health insurance. In addition, the increase in population created a tremendous homeless problem in the district. Bethany worked at the Hamilton Family Center, Raphael House, SE Asian Youth Center, which opened during Thanksgiving week, 1977, conceived as the first shelter for children and families experiencing homelessness in Northern California One very clear memory Bethany possesses is her first day of work. She recalls, "The first day we (the girls) took a walk through the neighborhood, went back to the house and sat in a circle and cried. We thought for sure we were going to die there that summer." But, in a short time, she found her mission to be very spiritually rewarding despite the cultural shock she experienced. For example, one day one of the girls and Bethany fixed their hair as crazily as they could, dressed in mismatched wild clothing, and took a walk. She describes it as the only day someone didn't ask her, "Hey, where you from?" Bethany remembers a clothing store located a few blocks from her house featuring a hot pink dress in the display window. The dress had the "F word" in black letters all over it. Knowing she was a long way from the values and norms of her Lucasville, Ohio home, she remembers thinking at the time, "I'm not sure what occasion someone would buy it for, but you sure couldn't buy something like that in Scioto County!" Also, she recalls a drug lord in the neighborhood who dressed like Mickey Mouse (except for his skull & crossbones cane). And, he often had a young girl accompanying him on a leash dressed as Minnie. Having led a very rural, sheltered life, Bethany found her environment extremely challenging. She recalls, "I had to step over the homeless sleeping on our front porch on my way to work each day. I remember seeing used needles discarded on sidewalks, lots of sadness and hopelessness." Bethany began to get accustomed to the district. By the end of the summer, she loved many of the odd and desperate characters she had met. She states, "(It was a) GREAT experience that changed my life! I worked various places: childcare at a pitiful homeless shelter in the AM, then off to a very upscale one in the afternoon ran by nuns; childcare for babies born with AIDS; work with Hispanic youth; and lots of work with the homeless." And, she began to feel very blessed to share the love of Christ with many of Haight's downtrodden residents. She says, "Those homeless people who seemed so scary that first day became my friends and I eventually felt safer walking around because I knew they would help me if any trouble arose." Now, she fondly remembers all her work in Haight-Ashbury. Another important event happened during her college days. Bethany met her future husband Andy at MVNC where he worked with Mission to the Cities in an assignment in New York City. His bedroom window overlooked Times Square. I'm sure Andy has quite a tale of his own to relate. One very unique twist to Bethany's story is that her residence in San Francisco was next door to that (112 Lyon) of a very famous rock star, Janis Joplin. Joplin moved into the house in 1967 after getting tired of commune life in Marin County with her band, Big Brother and the Holding Company, at a time when she was merely part of a hot local act with no radio hits. While there, she perfected her stutter-talk style of blues singing and exploded into prominence with her now-legendary performance at the 1967 Monterey International Pop Festival, recalled Country Joe McDonald, who was a hit himself in Monterey. Until recently, legend had it that the 124 Lyon Street address, where Bethany lived, had been the home of Janis Joplin. And, the truth of this claim has supposedly been put to rest with the discovery of Janis's address of 112 Lyon on an old driver's license. Blame the mix up on rock 'n' roll's drug-hazed, over saturated history, especially when it comes to San Francisco's Haight-Ashbury. "It just shows how mythological the whole thing is,'' said Country Joe McDonald, who lived with Joplin on Lyon for three somewhat fuzzy months in the late '60s -- and at first recalled it as being the location of the rehab center, until deeper memories kicked in recently. "Before you know it, they'll just go by that street some day and say, `Janis lived somewhere in this three block area,' and leave it at that,'' said McDonald, who was Joplin's boyfriend in those days. "It's hilarious.'' "Maybe that's part of the rock God mystique,'' director of development Thomas Reynolds said yesterday. "After awhile, everyone believes these guys stayed everywhere. In fact, World Entertainment News in London called to say they heard Joan Baez lived in this house.'' Anyway, the social services organization that owns the mansion is not as embarrassed by the revelation as they could be. "Whether she lived here or not, our centre is still true to the spirit of the '60s in 'the Haight' in that it's all about people helping each other," said Thomas Reynolds, Director of Development Bethany Buckle Treece certainly has lived an experience most of us will never face. I admire her for her dedicated, unselfish work in one of America's most needy districts. With great mission programs like Mount Vernon Nazarene offers, Ohio can be very proud of the contributions its college students make to the betterment of our culture. Not bad for a conservative Southern Ohio young lady, do you think? What an honorable tie for our community to the remnants of the turbulent '60s and what a "long, strange trip" (to quote Jerry Garcia) that Bethany will always cherish. THANK YOU, BETHANY FOR ALL THE NOTES, INFORMATION AND INSPIRATION. GREAT STORY TO RESEARCH!

Playing With Words

Do you mind if we consider words? Throwing words out on the page order random in Can still generate meaning of ideas complex fairly some If the writer includes enough scrambled context the symbols with. Am making clear I perfectly myself? For example, know you did? In Melville's novel Moby Dick, the down Moby quest hunt Pequod's itself to widely is Dick viewed as allegorical. To Ahab, everyone's whale represents killing the goals. And his vengeance fate man's against the struggle to whale is analogous against. Melville may be implying that overtake destroy such a other concerns goal can allowed one if to all. Theme a what! Also using the wrong word(s) in the right place in a famished passage may still alloy a reader to underhand the intended meanie. Look at this famous speech, "The Getable Ad-lib" by Abruption Linchpin. "Foursnores and seven beers ago our fathers brought forties on this continent a new libation, conceived in liberality and dedicated to the preposition that all men are created equine. Now we are engraved in a great civic war, testing whether that nacho or any nacho so converted and so dedicated can long endear. We are met on a Greek battle cry of that war. We have come to demonize a potion on that field as a final restless-place for those who here gave their limes that that naked might lick. It is altogether fidgety and profit that we should do this. But in a larger sense, we cannot dedicate, we cannot concentrate, we cannot Halifax this ground. Finally, nonsense words may be subincertained in a famdangled passage and the reader will still undergarmentize the meaning due to conbidextial clues. Try to comprehend the meaning of this famosterous pistrionic song. America the Beautalicious

Words by Katharine Lee Bates, Melody by Samuel Ward

O beautalicious for spaceyitis skies, For ambro waques of grain, For purpless mountain maxidies Above the frootloop plain! America! America! God shepped his grack on thee And crown thy frood with sminglehood From sea to shining sea!

How Far Am I Reaching?

One of the most tenuous things in personal life is "reach." Having a teaching background, I always worry about whether my "reach" is sufficient. Test scores and grades give some indication of content retention; however, whether a teacher has made any positive impact on a person's life is largely speculative. One of the hardest parts of teachers' jobs is to know, deep down, that they can never have enough reach. And, they also know they can and will alienate some students as well as encourage others to better their lives. I cringe when I consider students who hated English and their English teacher because of my teaching. But, I accept it. I believe I am a philosophical realist as it relates to truth and how it corresponds to reality. The truth is that most people are masters of their own "reach" outward, but pitifully ignorant slaves to the effect and range these "reaches" have had after they have launched them toward their intended targets. People typically do not receive post-briefings about their effectiveness in reaching out to others on the battlefields of real life. Many of my own teaching experiences have been calculated "shots in the dark" that, for all my good intentions, have either failed miserably or have succeeded moderately. And, to be realistic, I think that papers, tests, and completed tasks (though often revealing some knowledge attained) do not adequately demonstrate the range and effectiveness of a given task. Now, don't read this incorrectly. A perfect 36 English ACT score definitely shows a student has great talent and unusually high potential to succeed in this area; however, the score does not reflect the initiative and commitment to industry that will enable the student to master a related English career. Intangibles always seem to cloud the waters whether interpreting acquired knowledge or predicting future achievement. Being a great believer in "planting a seed" of knowledge with my reach, I always hope the seed will go through later vegetative and reproductive stages in the mind of my target. To help accomplish this, I try to relate information in a manner that encourages long-term retention, so with results that require long periods of time to reveal themselves, problems do arise with feedback. In fact, usually I get no feedback at all. When I do receive positive news, it is most appreciated. For example, my experience is that a grade is a symbol of accomplishment, but not a true symbol of how effective I have "planted" the information in the student's brain. A grade is a rather subjective mark on paper. Many students are taught by parents that grades guarantee success in post-secondary endeavors. And, many parents are proven wrong. Or, likewise, the National Honor Society is a reflection of achievement in the areas of the distinguished hallmarks of service, leadership, scholarship, and character but induction does little to insure growth of these characteristics in the future and to provide proof of the far reach of the good of its members. In fact, I often think inclusion in NHS is as much a "rest of laurels" as a challenge to many. If the grade or the induction is the true goal, then I believe some hypocrisy must exist. Do we merely want students to be "good" just because they are members of a well-intentioned organization? If that's the case, we should start an additional "Almost National Honor Society" to encourage "pretty good" behavior. I might vote for that, myself. In short, how do I know if I "reach" anyone with information or with any subjective belief? My philosophical reality rests on making such subject matter available for the willing to partake. Baseball Hall of Famer Ted Williams once commented about those that fail 'only' seven times out of ten attempts will be among the greatest in the game. He was right. But, a player must swing the bat in order to qualify. I can throw the pitches, but the student must swing. In addition, when I consider positive impact, I like to believe learners will retain both subject matter and positive philosophical matter. What good is one without the other? With an estimated I.Q. of 141, Hitler was a political genius. He brought Germany out of poverty and then usurped all the power of German government. But with the slightly lower estimated I.Q. of 138, Thomas Jefferson would be my choice of the two for the person with the more positive political and social impact. Adolf Hitler was a leader who controlled by manipulation and annihilation; Jefferson was a political visionary and an early champion of democracy. So, if we cannot realistically realize the impact and scope of our reach, should he even worry about it. My answer is "yes." No reach can benefit without extension. As humans, we have a commitment to keep reaching out even in a perceived darkness of harvest and opportunity. Thanks to Virginia Reeves for her article "Traits of Effective, Respected, and Liked Leader" For a free subscription to her e-zine, click here. mailto:millionairemindset@GetResponse.com Here are some good traits of effective leaders who repeatedly reach their marks: (1) A respected and liked leader operates from a base of integrity and honesty. (2) Leaders find ways to create small wins for the team as this helps to motivate people to continue striving and achieving towards individual and group efforts. (3) A sense of humor helps keep the perspective - especially when times are tense or troubled. Let's face it, hardly anything in life can't be laughed at if you look for that element. (4) A good leader learns to listen attentively to what is said between the lines and for ferreting out what else needs to be brought out into the open. (5) Discovering the way someone processes their thoughts and how those turn into actions is a prime responsibility for an effective leader. (6) General H. Norman Schwarzkopf says, "Some of the best leadership lessons I learned as a young officer were from terrible officers. I mean, absolutely morally bankrupt officers who had no redeeming qualities." You learn how not to do it this way, and, therefore, how to do it. Just for fun, here is a list of the "Top Twenty Things That Will Impact Your Life" from childhood, teen years, to adulthood by CharandGary'sGab at http://www.associatedcontent.com/article/228848/the_top_twenty_things_that_will_impact.html?cat=5 on May 7, 2007. This list is certainly not researched. It was an on-the-spot survey conducted among a few good friends. You probably have some very different ideas. Feel free to share. The Top Twenty Things That Will Impact Your Life. 1.) Your first day of school. 2.) Your first crush on a boy or girl. 3.) Your first romantic kiss. 4.) Your first win (sports, spelling bee, job interview, debate, graduation) 5.) Your first erection or your first period. 6.) Your first make out session an/or (big O). 7.) Your first day of your very first job. 8.) The first time you are fired, and or quit a job. 9.) Your wedding day. 10.) Your honeymoon. 11.) Your first major fight as man and wife. 12.) Your first bar, or night club experience. 13.) Your first drink. 14.) The first moment you find out you will become a parent. 15.) The moment you hold your first child. Or give birth to your first child. 16.) Your first major health issue or operation. 17.) Your first religious experience. 18.) When your parents or best friend dies. (first funeral) 19.) Holding your first grand child. 20.) Your first heart break.

Only the Lonely Know

A starless night stands bare in an onyx sky A dim streetlamp glows softly in the airy night A neglected toothbrush rests alone on cold white sink A rowboat struggles upon the waves of the open sea A romantic letter severs ties with "I love you" A past now gone remains in a pair of empty shoes

A liver-spotted hand embraces an old photograph
A lover's last goodbye speaks through a ticket torn in half

A bright beam seeps though an insignificant crack
A shaft of sunlight breaks onto a sylvan path

A dark silhouette stands alone on an abandoned beach
A lonesome child sits on a swing and drags his feet

A portrait stares from a dirty window frame
A sheet of music lies silent and never played

A distant siren wails in the summer heat
A homeless beggar wanders a filthy urban street

A hollow stem grows through a broken walk
A black cat begins a silent midnight stalk.

A glass pane frowns broken teeth in an abandoned home
Trembling knees support a weary head left to weep alone

A lonely fir tree desperately grasping steep craggy ground
A mourning dove on a telephone wire coos lamenting sounds

An unstable lover remains beside a mute telephone
An evicted family packs up the remnants of their home

Loneliness stalks the darkened lives of every soul and heart
Waiting for all reluctant victims to play their empty parts

This post was just a whim relating to blues songs and their narrative lyrics. All, or most, of the lines in the song contain lyrics from famous blues music. I thought it might be interesting to incorporate the crossroads with desires for sexual powers, two themes often addressed in the blues. Go on down to the delta and hear the story of desire and murder. Stackolee, The Mojo Man I'm went down to Louisiana to get a gris-gris and a mojo hand On the seventh day, on the seventh month from the hoo-doo man, My second cousin from the bayou, that little Johnny Cocheroo. Won't be no peace in the barnyard when your little red rooster gets through. Walked down to the crossroads and fell down on my knees Sippin' dark whiskey, I begged the devil to hear my drunkard's plea. You know I didn't feel so bad, 'til the good ol' sun went down. Then the blues come along and messed my spirit all around. Ah, oh, I saw smokestack lightning shootin' flames into the sky. Why don't ya hear me cryin'? Ah, whoo hoo, ooh... why? Hell hounds on my trail and no one to throw my arms around I got the black cat moan down on this cold, cold ground. When I woke up in the morning the deal's was down and done. I started back to New Orleans to spend my life in the Rising Sun With my sweet little angel 'cause I love the way she spread her wings. Stuff I got'll bust her brains out, baby, hoo hoo, it'll make her sing. Now I can stand up next to a mountain and chop it down with the edge of my hand. Make you believe in things, girl, that you just don't understand. I ain't foolin' you baby, I give my woman, now, the ninety-nine degree. Men don't know this back door man eats mo' chicken than they ever seen. Girl you better come on in my kitchen 'cause it's goin' to be rainin' outdoors. And let me put it to you mama hoping that you'll understand me more. You know they call it stormy Monday, but Tuesday's just as bad. I am not just your lover, baby, I'm your Hootchie Coochie Man.

So, come on in momma and turn the lamp way down low.
I was born under a bad sign and I been goin' down slow.
I'm beggin' you, honey, cut out that off the wall jive.
If you can't treat me no better, it's gotta be your funeral and my trial.

Then,she jumped up and throwed a .44 pistol down on me.
I screamed, "Stop breakin'down pretty mama, don't plug  ol' Stackolee
I should have quit you a long time ago- whoa, yeah, a long time ago.
I was foolin' with ya baby, please don't put me on the killin' floor."

C.C. Rider, drag my carcass down to the St. James Infirmary Take my bottom dollar from my pocket, steal my mojo away from me. All my lovin', all my money- she left me cold for that ramblin' rake. Lying here on this long white table, I'm not fattenin' no more frogs for snakes.

There's just two kind favors I'll ask you, kid, to do:
See that my grave's kept clean and steer clear of Johnny Cocheroo.
Cause when the black hearse left, it had two lights on behind.
The red light was my baby and the blue light was my mind.

I wouldn't be here, my children