End of an Era

Today marks the end of an era.  No longer will I have the moniker “The Detention Dude”.  I am stepping down from a position that I have held for the past  six years: after school detention monitor.  It marks the end of a reign of terror on students and drudgery on me.  As expectations of student behavior continue to decline along with enforcement of existing policies and rules, I found it increasingly difficult to maintain a positive attitude.

I am passionate about the importance of the education profession and the role public education plays in our society.  I am also passionate about the role the family plays in a child’s behavior and education.  However, I believe this generation has forgotten this key component.     

I don’t want to beat a proverbial dead horse, but we are giving away our culture of academia and allowing it to be replaced by a culture of chaos.  It is difficult, if not impossible to enforce rules subjectively and have any sense of order.  However that seems to be the case not only with our schools, but with our society as a whole.  I digress…..

When we mistakenly try to be accepting and accommodating to every different culture and sub-culture that enters a public school’s doors, we are effectively lowering the bar.  We now tollerate behaviors and performance levels in public schools that only a generation ago would have been unheard of , let alone tolerated.   No matter what the behavior that student has the right to a free public education….no matter what the academic performance the student advances.

Hopefully I am wrong about this and removing myself from the detention crowd will provide evidence of hope.

Just call me “Plain Ole Dude”, RT.

Egg Shells and Elephants

You go along just fine minding your own business for years, trying  not to  make any waves (well maybe a few) only to wake up one day with a huge elephant s(h)itting in your living room.  As if the elephant and  it’s by-products aren’t enough you find that your rock-solid concrete slab has been replace with  a floor made entirely of egg shells.

Unfortunately, I did what most people do and I reacted on emotion rather than logic.  A word to the wise and dim-witted alike here; never startled an elephant who has taken up residence in your living room, the results can be quite catastrophic and costly.  Had I left it alone it might have moseyed out the same way it came in, but instead I am trying to rebuild a house.

The egg shells are another matter entirely.  You know, if you walk on them long enough they turn into a fairly fine powder.  With any luck at all they will eventually blow away on the winds of time.  On the other hand, they might just clog the floor drains and cause all kinds of nasty things to back up…

All is not lost though, I can sweep up the elephant dung and egg shells from the shambles of  my living room and spread them on my garden plot.  I have read they make fertile mulch.

Looking at the bright side, RT.

Lamenting Lent

Lent is the season beginning Ash Wednesday and lasting until Easter when many of us Christians give up something in order to illuminate Christ’s suffering and crucifixion.  I have to be honest and say that I do not recall a single season of Lent that I successfully abstained from my sacrificial token.

I decided this year was going to be different!  My first thought was to give up sarcasm, yea right.  I work with middle school students day in and day out; I wouldn’t last long with out tool.  What’s next on the list, tipple?  Did I mention I work with middle school aged kiddos……so it  is on to the next sacrificial offering.  Decadent desserts, that’s it!  No, my lovely wife has us both basking on the dreary dietary South Beach.  Drats!  I’ve got it now, I can abstain from Facebook.  Who am I kidding, how would I keep up with all my close friends; you know the ones I haven’t seen in 30+ years.  Community is biblical, right?

So here I am in the first leg of Lent with no offering.  Maybe I should take something up for Lent rather than giving it up.  Any ideas?

I guess I will just rely on grace, RT.

Oppressed Oppressor

I have been thinking a lot about history lately; our history as humans, as well as my own history.  Now, I just can not believe that I am a result of  evolution….a  goo-man if you will, Iwould rather believe that I am a created man.  So this ‘our’ history I speak of is the story of divine creation, the fall, oppression through captivity, redemption from captivity only to become the oppressors, back into captivity and oppression….you get the picture.  

My thoughts are occupied with the question into which category I fall into: the oppressed or the oppressor.  And that I suppose depends on your perspective.  Most of the oppression I feel is financial in nature and it is a consequence of my own actions.  In a way I have oppressed myself by not following the instruction manual I was given.  No, I am not talking about a  Dave Ramsey book ( although I think he may have referred to the manual while writing his books).

You don’t have to search to hard to find God’s counsel on banking and it would appear He just doesn’t understand our modern financial institutions.  He would have lenders not charge interest!?!  Exodus 22:25   Can you imagine that?  Doesn’t that raise your ire with the evil banks and mortgage companies?  Wait a minute, what is my part in this…do I have any accountability here?  If I truly believe that interest charging lenders are in opposition of God, what was I thinking when I borrowed money from them?  Whether you believe greed or need was the driving force,  I am now dancing with the devil…working two, sometimes three jobs just to feed the beast I helped to create.

Don’t get me wrong here, it is not the work that bothers me….it is knowing what I could be doing different had I followed the instruction manual.  I would have more time to give to service and more resources to share.  The worst part…..the part that haunts me…..is that I know I broke my Father’s heart.

Regretfully, RT

Righteous Indignation…Really?

Have you ever heard or used the term “righteous indignation” to rationalize seemingly harsh and/or bizarre behaviors?  From the Crusades and  Jihads to social ethics and ethnic cleansings….the righteous and their indignation have been there.  Only problem is righteousness is often interchanged with self-righteousness and that can be lethal.

Righteousness rings of something being pure and morally correct, but by whose morals and standards?  Indignation brings to mind an emotion invoked by a perceived injustice, a feeling.  Feelings are subject to change and influenced by perspective.  Which brings me back to that question of what is the moral standard that is the basis of our righteous feelings? 

Romans 3:10 states:  ”As it is written: There is no one righteous, not even one”.   Doesn’t leave much wiggle room does it?  How can one have righteous indignation, if we are incapable of being righteous?  Romans 3:22 goes on to say:  “This righteousness from God comes through faith in Jesus Christ to all who believe.”   Now I believe and have faith in Christ, albeit not enough…my self-righteousness gets in the way.

Feeling my way, RT

Blessing Blunder

There is something I don’t quite understand…..be kind now….I know what you are thinking; there is a lot he doesn’t seem to understand.  However, this one has been bothering me for awhile now.  I have been hearing prayers by numerous people including some pastors in which they begin by saying, “Lord we bless you”.  Now my theology is not that deep, but is that even possible?

As I understand the word blessing in biblical terms it is a ‘favor or gift bestowed by God.’   I know for a fact that I have been blessed by God on countless occasions.  I further believe God has blessed me through the actions of others and hopefully He has been able to use me to bring His blessing to others from time to time.  But to say that we have the capacity to bless God….really?

Maybe our actions can be pleasing to God on occasion, but a blessing…I don’t think that  is possible.  Blessing are divine and we are not.  I might be arguing semantics, but shouldn’t we be singing praises to Him for the blessing He has bestowed upon us?

And if we want to bless someone, why don’t we put ourselves out there in a position where God can use us as a blessing to someone else?  You know what I mean?

May God bless you and praise be unto Him, RT.

A dog-like faith…

This print of Andrew Wyeth’s “Master Bedroom”  has traveled with me for over two decades and has hung in five homes, in three different towns.   It always seems to call me back to being a better person. 

If I could only display the same loyalty towards Christ and His teachings that my dog displays towards me.  The same joy at hearing my master’s voice.  The same excitement to spend time in my master’s presence.  The same compassion for and interest in my master’s actions.  The same sense of  peace knowing my master’s identity. 

House-broken, but still in training, RT.

Struggling with the whole forgiveness thing.

Where do I start?  The obvious answer would be at the beginning, but that is not where I am at.  It isn’t so much about the perceived wrong as it is about doing the perceived right thing to do; forgive.  And that is where my struggle begins.

I pray that most dangerous of dangerous prayers almost every Sunday.  You know the one: the Lord’s prayer.  I call it dangerous because if I am going to be forgiven as I forgive others, woe be unto me.  I think I am past something and then it raises it’s ugly head again.  Those same old feelings of hurt, fear, and anger come flooding in.  I was wronged and I have the right to hold a grudge and withhold forgiveness, right?  Well, I guess I have the right, but at what cost? 

Will I be forgiven in accordance to my ability to forgive?  O’God I hope not.  So that brings me to this: is human forgiveness for the sinner or for the one sinned against?  Didn’t Christ pay the ultimate price for my, your, our sins?  So that would mean that the one/ones who I perceive have sinned against me have already been forgiven through Christ’s sacrifice.  They don’t need my forgiveness, but I do.

Wrestling with it all, RT.

Taser Twits (Part Duh)

If you have been with me from the beginning of this blog you may have read “Taser Twits”  a blog I posted early on.  Well, I recieved the following email recently and laughed so hard I think I pulled something as I read it.  I don’t know the author, but my thanks go out to him or her.  Enjoy: 

Pocket Taser Stun Gun, a great gift for the wife. A guy who purchased his lovely wife a pocket Taser for their anniversary submitted this:
Last weekend I saw something at Larry’s Pistol & Pawn Shop that sparked my interest. The occasion was our 15th anniversary and I was looking for a little something extra for my wife Julie. What I came across was a 100,000-volt, pocket/purse-sized taser. The effects of the taser were supposed to be short lived, with no long-term adverse affect on your assailant, allowing her adequate time to retreat to safety….??

WAY TOO COOL!  Long story short, I bought the device and brought it home.  I loaded two AAA batteries i n the darn thing and pushed the button. Nothing!

 I was disappointed. I learned, however, that if I pushed the button AND pressed it against a metal surface at the same time; I’d get the blue arc of electricity darting back and forth between the prongs. AWESOME!!!  Unfortunately, I have yet to explain to Julie what that burn spot is on the face of her microwave.

 Okay, so I was home alone with this new toy, thinking to myself that it couldn’t be all that bad with only two triple-A batteries, right?  There I sat in my recliner, my cat Gracie looking on intently (trusting little soul) while I was reading the directions and thinking that I really needed to try this thing out on a flesh & blood moving target.  I must admit I thought about zapping Gracie (for a fraction of a second) and thought better of it. She is such a sweet cat. But, if I was going to give this thing to my wife to protect herself against a mugger, I did want some assurance that it would work as advertised. Am I wrong?

 So, there I sat in a pair of shorts and a tank top with my reading glasses perched delicately on the bridge of my nose, directions in one hand, and taser in another.  The directions said that a one-second burst would shock and disorient your assailant; a two-second burst was supposed to cause muscle spasms and a major loss of bodily control; a three-second burst would purportedly make your assailant flop on the ground like a fish out of water. Any burst longer than three seconds would be wasting the batteries.

 All the while I’m looking at this little device measuring about 5′ long, less than 3/4 inch in circumference; pretty cute really and (loaded with two itsy, bitsy triple-A batteries) thinking to myself, ‘no possible way!’

 What happened next is almost beyond description, but I’ll do my best…?

 I’m sitting there alone, Gracie looking on with her h ea d cocked to one side as to say, ‘don’t do it dipshit,’ reasoning that a one second burst from such a tiny little ole thing couldn’t hurt all that bad. I decided to give myself a one second burst just for heck of it I touched the prongs to my naked thigh, pushed the button, and . HOLY MOTHER OF GOD . . . WEAPONS OF MASS DESTRUCTION . . . WHAT THE HELL!!!

 I’m pretty sure Jessie Ventura ran in through the side door, picked me up in the recliner, then body slammed us both on the carpet, over and over and over again. I vaguely recall waking up on my side in the fetal position, with tears in my eyes, body soaking wet, both nipples on fire, testicles nowhere to be found, with my left arm tucked under my body in the oddest position, and tingling in my legs?

 The cat was making meowing sounds I had never heard before, clinging to a picture frame hanging above the fireplace, obviously in an attempt to avoid getting slammed by my body flopping all over the living room.

 Note: If you ever feel compelled to ‘mug’ yourself with a taser, one note of caution: there is no such thing as a one second burst when you zap yourself!  You will not let go of that thing until it is dislodged from your hand by a violent thrashing about on the floor.. A three second burst would be considered conservative?

IT HURT LIKE HELL!!!

A minute or so later (I can’t be sure, as time was a relative thing at that point), I collected my wits (what little I had left), sat up and surveyed the landscape. My bent reading glasses were on the mantel of the fireplace. The recliner was upside down and about 8 feet or so from where it originally was.  My triceps, right thigh and both nipples were still twitching. My face felt like it had been shot up with Novocain, and my bottom lip weighed 88 lbs. I had no control over the drooling. Apparently I pooped on myself, but was too numb to know for sure and my sense of smell was gone. I saw a faint smoke cloud above my head which I believe came from my hair. I’m still looking for my nuts and I’m offering a significant reward for their safe return!!

P. S. My wife loved the gift, and now regularly threatens me with it!
‘If you think education is difficult, try being stupid.’

 

I hope you enjoyed this as much as I did, RT.

Reflections on Advent

Now, I realize Advent season has come and gone, but now is a good time to reflect on the Christmas of recent past….Secularly, advent is defined as the coming or arrival, especially of something extremely important, such as the advent of the computer.  In Christian circles, advent is supposed to be a time of preparation for the Second Coming while commemorating the First Coming of Christ at Christmas.  Looking back I  just have to wonder exactly what we were looking forward to?    Was it the annual return of  jolly Ole’ Saint Nick with his naughty and nice list or was it the risen Christ with His naughty and nice list?  Observation would tell me that we as a nation were waiting for the return of the one in the red suit with boots, not the One in the tattered robe and dusty sandals. 

And why not?  The guy in the red suit is a lot easier to like.  He gives immediate, tangible gifts to everyone, no matter whether naughty or nice from what I can see.   It is sort of like Wall Street and the government bailout or Obama and his promise of “incentives”, it doesn’t really matter if you behave ethically or not; you still get a gift.  Christ has a gift to offer as well, however His may not seem so immediate or tangible.  His gift was Himself and our salvation.  Tragically, many are lured away by the promise of the emperor’s coin. 

I wonder what the exchange rate is at Heaven’s gate? 

Looking and praying for Advent, RT.