Warning! Reading this with your own brain may cause damage!

My sarcastic side finds delightful irony in the fact that I am writing a blog about the failure in communication today. Once upon a time, a letter written to a friend was revered as a keepsake to be cherished, even passed on to generations. In July, I sent off letters to various acquaintances. As of this moment, I have had no response. Maybe they’re still crossing over on the Mayflower.

Busy times, we live in. Yes, they are. I seem to hear more about my friends going-on’s through Facebook or Twitter than from their own lips. One friend recently asked, “Where have you been?” after I had taken a hiatus from social networking. Hmmm. Where have I been? I have been at the same address, phone number and email that I have been for years. I must have missed that voice mail or text message where you reached out to me.

The common excuse I get is speaking of how busy they have been. Really? We have a massive ad campaign going on about the consequences of texting while driving. What exactly were you “so busy” doing? You were texting somebody before the car crash!

I can’t hear anyone, anymore because the noise is deafening! I don’t call or text when I drive because I love to drive. It is my therapy. I usually get my best writing ideas while cruising down the highway. And my BMW 528i is a great therapist in which to deal with whatever I may be suffering.

By the way, there is no blog or therapy group that replaces the loneliness of suffering.  If friends, good wishes or even prayers were all that are needed to relieve suffering, safe to say someone would have marketed it for their own good at this point. Yes, I am sorry to say that my cynical side tends to seek out our arterial motives, especially in the guise of helping others. After all, the nuclear bomb was started with the best of intentions.

Suffering is the necessary bleeding our bodies do to keep the poisons from seeping into our veins. And no one can do blood-letting for you. But again, we appear too busy to reach out and speak directly to a friend about that which bothers us.

Of-uttered phrases like “I’ll keep you in my prayers” sometimes carry the same weight of “the check is in the mail.” We say such things so as not appear odious. It also seems to be a way we offer an “instant” prayer, the same way we shoot off a text message.

Social networking is now our microwavable portion of friendship. I see a wide variety of “instant” quotes that people post on their walls. Apparently, they only have enough time to borrow someone else’s words instead of creating their own. I can certainly attest that spellcheck has caused my writing skills to deteriorate. Why should I remember how to spell when the computer will do it for me? Of course, we all have seen humorous results of failure to look at the content of what we write. I pray better care goes into a love letter.

Real conversation has disappeared. I am now convinced that I can copy and paste and entire conversation from someone else’s quote page! Hmmm, I might just do that for my next blog! Why be original when I can ride on someone’s coattails?

But now we are so busy that I cannot express my own emotions? Like I need another voice inside my head? As Edmund Burke stated: “All that's necessary for the forces of evil to win in the world is for enough good men to do nothing.” Well, we’re off to a great start. Someone pass me the remote control…..

Wisdom beyond your ears....

I'm a professional bachelor. Been practicing for over 25 years now. So I joke to my friends that I am quantified expert on matters such as child-rearing and how to maintain a happy marriage. You know the old maxim (no, not the magazine you goober! Looking at those girls probably got you in trouble with your wife in the first place!), the old saying "Those who can do. Those who can't, teach!"

So I have declared myself a veritable genius on kids and spouses. And I have come to discover that it is relatively easy to get some "hands on" proficiency by simply spending a day at a local shopping mall or Wal-Mart. After all, social gatherings will not provide you with the same "essance" a couple displays compared to watch their hunting and gathering techniques! Middle East peace negotiations are easier settled than potato chip selections! Imagine this conversation:

Man: "Honey, I want the Jay's potato chips."

Woman: "You can't have those. They're bad for you!"

Man: "What do you mean they're bad for me?"

Woman: "They raise your cholesterol. You could have a heart attack and die!"

Man: (Thinking to himself) "What makes you think I want to live longer???"

Of course, nothing says "I love you" than holding her purse in the lingerie section. And nothing says "weirdo" like getting caught trying on her slip!

Ah well, on to less important matters. I'm still recovering from my surgery, which requires me to wear a colostomy bag for the duration. True fact: The manufacturer of the bag is Hollister! I feel very hip! Now if I could just get a pair of shoes to match the bag.....

Speaking of being hip, I now feel very urban since I can imitate all the hip-hop moves done on the recent Wal-Mart commercials. So get outta my grill, ya'all!

Recovering from surgery has afforded me with lots of time to indulge in “57 channels and nothing on” ala Bruce Springsteen. I seldom watch tv. “Reality” shows seem nothing of the sort. They tend to sicken me with the self-indulgent behavior and “woe-is-me, I’m rich-n-stupid” whining. Living near Gary IN, the daily news is lavish with “real” stories of life’s shortfalls. Murders, fatal accidents, political corruption. Now I pay a cable company for the privilege! 

I find it difficult to understand why anyone would want “tune-out” by watching another’s misery. Or stupidity, for that matter. If I were to spend an hour watching the foibles of someone with a serious handicap for entertainment, I’d be a sick, sadistic jerk. So I find it sarcastically humorous that betterment in life can be achieved by simply watching the “Kardashians” or OCC, where Paul Sr & Jr duke it out. It would not take much thread for me to weave a connection between our tv habits and recent tragedies of school bullying.

Yea, yea, I know. It’s all a choice. I choose what to watch. I choose what I read. And I choose what I do about it. Still, I do wonder. I can isolate myself in my house, yet the outside air still seeps in. Maybe I should switch to the Hallmark channel?

Too Much Tv

Hello everyone,

I've been long in doing any writing. I went in for a surgical procedure on Thursday and I am still recovering. Now through the magic of cable television, I get to enjoy all the latest "As Seen On TV" products I could ever want. Since I had surgery on my abdomen, I cannot begin to describe the excitement I feel knowing that there are so many products available to help me in my recovery! For example, since I am bed-ridden, I feel so much safer getting up to walk around wearing my Brightfeet slippers! I now have headlights on my toes! And if someone should break into my home, I can flash the high-beams and run them off the road! Of course, as the lenses fade, I will need the Headlamp Polishing kit to keep those beams a shinin bright!

But wait! There's more! I need to do physical therapy to get myself back in shape. I can use the Slim Away Girdle! Just imagine. I can now make myself look like a piece of sausage and suffocate myself! But I do need day-time apparel, so I ordered a pair of the Pajama Jeans! One ass fits all!

There simply needs to be a law preventing me from looking at all this while under heavy medication. This is as bad as drunk Facebooking! Gotta love that hangover feeling of waking up, looking at your computer keyboard, awash in last night's tequila. I never knew I could get a lime to stick to the monitor!
Of course, I'm not so sure about some of these ads for midgets and farm animals.....
And now, all my FaceBook friends have been replaced with Russian men in blond wigs. Scary!

Wow! I joined a lot of political affiliations! I'm standing up for rights that I never knew existed! Ah, Jose Quervo, you are a friend of mine!

Well, time for bed. I look forward to writing more soon. And tell Greenpeace, the Republican Party & Lesbian Poodle Breeders that I am sorry for offending anyone! After all, I blame it on the drugs, not my stupidity! :) HICCUP!

Like I'm a four-year old

In the movie “Philadelphia” starring Tom Hanks & Denzel Washington comes a quote that I have used as a silent mantra for most of my life. “Now explain it to me like I’m a four-year old.” You see, I find myself in an unrelenting pursuit, a life-long high-speed car chase towards answers. Ironically, some answers to questions I know full well I will not receive on “this side of the coin.”

But I pursue, nonetheless, like a dog chasing it’s own tail. Somehow I have convinced myself that I am special and will get a glimpse of eternity that far better theologians ever have. I am naïve enough to think that I may get a glimpse of God even better than Moses himself. Although, seeing that my friends look at me strangely enough now, I shudder to think what their reaction would be if I were suddenly glowing like the sun as Moses did when meeting The Big Man.

God is big. Really big. I mean, He is as wide as the east is to the west. I mean, a few seconds ago in our human understanding on the world, we thought it was flat and that boats would fall off the edge of the earth. How are we to assume we can understand God if we cannot understand the very world we live in?

 Now, stop for a moment and think of listening in to a serious conversation about the matter. Picture if you will a ship that sails off to sea, never to return. A storm has sunk the ship and the crew is lost.

John: Did you hear about Captain James?

David: No, what happened?

John: They set of a’sailin. Fell off the edge of the earth.

David: What kinda fools go off thinkin they would not fall off the edge?

John: I know. The goobers.

Flash forward to today, a few seconds later. Substitute some of these phrases to help show how far we have advanced:

(On the invention of the locomotive): “People will suffocate because of a lack of oxygen when traveling more than thirty mile per hour.”

Rock-n-Roll is satanic and should be banned.

AIDS can be spread on a toilet seat.

My, oh my, how we have advanced over the years. Foolish questions then are replaced with new and improved foolish questions. But you must admire our resilience. We keep moving forward, keep reaching out to the unknown. And this is a good thing. Simply think of advancements in medical science. No more doctors notes to school saying “Billy cannot go to school because he has a blood-letting.” or “Sally will be having a hole drilled in her head today to reduce swelling.” I myself, will be benefiting greatly from progress in surgical techniques by undergoing a procedure, called a Ileoanal anastomosis, which was impossible a mere fifty years ago. Cancer was one time a death certainty. But today, we have greater hope than ever before of surviving.

But we do tend to place a stigma on certain diseases or social statuses. And this can be traced back to biblical times. Leprosy is the oft-repeated phrase in scripture used to describe a disease. But it was also used to convey our paranoia, our bias and our fear of the unknown in how we treated those affected. With disdain & contempt. Imagine if you will, someone comes to you, cancerous. No hope for survival. You do your very best to bring love, comfort and compassion to them. Now replace “cancer” with “AIDS”. Where do your thoughts take you?

Now imagine you have contracted AIDS through a transfusion. You are now shunned by many. You are now the “leper”. Imagine the rejection, the loathing by others. In your weakened state, you care not about what you have but only that you get help, get better or most of all, be loved by someone.

So when I see the pain, the suffering, the hatred, the unfairness of the world, I cry out for answers. I demand, like Job, an audience with God Himself. And I find that I want it explained to me “like a four-year old.” I want answers to questions. Ironically, if I were to actually hear them from God, my head would explode from His bigness. Like giving intellect to an ant, my physical form cannot handle such power. I would better survive a tornado or hurricane than the voice of God.

Yet I pursue these questions with all my might. Why? Should I not just simply be content and accept that these answers I seek are out of my reach? Why do I not accept that there are things I simply cannot understand?

I guess it is because in the depths of my heart, my soul, I KNOW there is more out there than what meets the eye. I see scientific wonders of God’s brilliance all around me. He shows Himself to me in the mysteries of Quantum Physics and Black Holes. I wonder if He delights in our explorations with the same fervor a parent does when their own child discovers this world through fresh eyes. Eyes not jaded by pain and sorrow and despair. I hope that God looks at our reaching as a desire to appreciate all that He has created. I hope He delights in how we pursue Him relentlessly. I hope that discontentment amongst us all, allows us to make God more visible to those that have lost that child-like awe and wonder.

God said His name is “I Am”. As a four-year old, it was all the explanation I needed. Somewhere along the way, I refused to believe that answer was enough and I tool my own bite of the apple. Like my forefathers, I have regretted my choice. I now ask questions of a four-year old to adults around me. And more often than not, I don’t like the answers. I find that with each question, I keep asking “Why?”

Why does the color of your skin matter?

Why do religions fight each other?

Why do so many people go hungry?

How long do I keep asking why?

Someone please explain it to me, like I’m a four-year old.

You don't look sick?

There seems to be a unspoken understanding that Sunday is a day of renewal, where the chaos of the previous week is laid to rest. Sunday is an ode to the childhood mantra of "Do-Over". One feels a sense of relief that the previous week is over and eager anticipation towards the new. Whatever failed before is no longer a worry. A new day excitedly invites you to participate with joy! Even if it's raining, one can say that the rain is washing away the old to let in the new. A baptism of sorts. So let us climb aboard a new ship called "The Future" and sail uncharted waters into adventures you have never known. Yea, the seas may look familiar but you if you look at them with tales of where you have been, you will surely miss out on hidden treasures waiting to be discovered. Enjoy! Explore! Live with purpose.

My upcoming week involves having a surgical procedure done to cure a long standing issue. I have a condition known as Ulcerative Colitis. I have had this for about 20 years and aside from the occasional flare-up's, I have been able to maintain a "normal" lifestyle with medications. That is, until this year. It is so ironic that as you get older, things have a tendency to stop working. In April, I started having acute attacks that sapped most of my strength and led me to my pending surgery.

For those that are not aware, Ulcerative Colitis or "UC" is in the same family as Crohn's disease which is another type of Inflammatory Bowel Disease. Over the years of having UC, the challenge of the disease has been two-fold. The physical symptoms I suffer during a attack include frequent bowel movements, intestinal bleeding and extreme fatigue. But just trying to describe the physical symptoms belittles a true understanding of the hell those of us with UC or Crohn's are actually going through. A common phrase uttered either aloud or through the eyes of someone you are trying to describe your condition to is "You don't look sick?" Those of you that have this or another malady with no outwardly visible signs know exactly what I mean. You almost get the feeling that those you explain this to think you are making it up just to gain sympathy. In some ways, I wished at times I could tell people that I had cancer. Everybody knows what cancer is. You say you have cancer. They say "I understand" and the matter is done. You say you have UC. They look at you with a quizzical stare that continues even after you explain what UC is.

And the physical symptoms I described earlier don't give honesty to what is really taking place. To say "I go to the bathroom a lot" makes it sound like UC is just a inconvenience. Nothing could be further from the truth. Imagine having a 30-second window in order to even find a bathroom. Otherwise you can plan on taking a shower and putting your soiled clothes in the laundry. Now imagine this happening 20 - 25 times a day.  Now imagine each time you are bent over with cramping and convulsions that take you to the edge of passing out. Imagine the very food you eat to provide you sustenance is creating pain akin to giving birth or passing kidney stones. Again, 20-25 times a day. Oh, and you're bleeding too! You're anemic from the blood loss.

For myself, just when I didn't think it could get much worse, I started having severe incontinence issues. I could not hold, control or regulate when I would go. My body decided for itself. Not fun! The worse episode for me was my first day at a new job. I arrived in the parking lot only to soil myself in the car. No change of clothes. No way to clean myself up. In shame and embarrassment, I turned around and went back home. I didn't even bother to call the employer to explain because I assumed they would give me that same blank, quizzical stare when I tried to explain what UC is. Why bother? The problem was not going away. Medications were not helping. How could I even work if I have to run full speed to the bathroom every ten minutes?

Then there is the mental duress. Very much a double edged sword for the UC or Crohn's sufferer. Because an attack can be brought on by STRESS!!! Great. What do I have to worry about? How about almost EVERYTHING! Where is the nearest bathroom? I have to eat but eating will hurt me. You now become a prisoner in your own home. Solitary confinement. And if you have family with you, they are equally burdened by wanting to ease your pain and suffering but unable to do so. As is the case with any ailing family member.

I write this not to draw attention to myself. After all, I can think of much more enjoyable ways to do so and not mention my bowel movements (insert sarcasm font). I do this to help anyone that has UC or Crohn's or ANY non-famous illness that "You don't LOOK sick" when you are very sick. It's so hard having someone who can understand what you're going through other than another sufferer. Thankfully, you now have the web that offers a vast amount of education, support groups and blogs to find others on common ground. My advice. USE THEM! For myself, nothing worse than being a prisoner in your own psyche.  You are not alone in your suffering. Reach out for support from those that understand.

I have been fortunate, nay, extremely blessed to have a wonderful family to tolerate me as I learn to humble myself and accept that I cannot do or fix everything on my own. That is the strongest point I can impart onto you. Whatever trial you are facing, do not do it alone. We, as God's children, were never meant to be without family, without connection to one another. And God, I have discovered, will even allow illness if it brings about compassion, tenderness & closeness. As John Donne said, "No man is an island." 

So I approach my new week with a trust and faith that my ills will soon be relieved and I will be able to return to a normalcy that I have not had for a long time. I pray for good health for all of us. But I also pray for abundant love even when good health is absent.