Changeover

Changeover: (n) a change from one system or situation to another.

Once again, the system we have precariously referred to as democracy has created a changeover from one leader to another.

It happens every four to eight years, but each time it does, there are those among us who foretell of great evil and damnation because a
certain individual is occupying The Chair.

I have all sorts of chairs in my house. They’ve been occupied by a great variety of humans–and also creatures. But the truth of the matter is, the chair still maintains its quality and dignity.

We have selected a form of government that revels in the ridiculous notion of changeover. Businesses do not do this–they search and search until they find a good CEO and they keep that individual in the position until he or she dies or retires.

But not America.

We feel that a “musical chairs” approach to governing will grant us freedom from fascism. It might be true if those who were knocking over other people to get into the chair did not have a bit of fascism in themselves.

So when Eisenhower became President everyone was sure that as a general, he would try to take over the government with the military.

John Kennedy was going to let the Pope rule the country.

Lyndon Johnson would turn the United States over to the control of angry Negroes.

Richard Nixon was determined to bomb Southeast Asia into oblivion.

Jimmy Carter was so peaceful that he would lead us into war.

Ronald Reagan might tax America into poverty with his “trickle-down economics.”

George Bush, Sr., could cripple us with wars in the Middle East.

Bill Clinton was going to legalize every vice in America and have our children offered marijuana cookies in the cafeteria.

George Bush, Jr., would try to finish his Daddy’s war until he bankrupted the country.

Barack Obama–turn the nation over to African-Americans, while white people would be killed in the streets by the anti-Christ.

And now, folks claim that Donald Trump is going to lead us to the brink of destruction and thermonuclear war.

It’s just a changeover, folks.

As always, it is ugly, perhaps foolish and filled with mishaps.

But because we have taught ourselves in this republic to be more critical than helpful, it is virtually impossible for any one human being to devastate the glory of our freedom and the power of our principles.

 

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Changeable

Changeable: (adj) able to change or be changed.

It had all the appearance of being an official meeting.

Everyone was sitting around the table acting adult, and we were following Parliamentary procedure, which made us feel like “big kids.”

A gentleman spoke up and said, “Of course, no one likes change.”

Nearly everyone in the room nodded in agreement. Well, actually everybody but me.

You see, here’s what I have learned. If you work on an asparagus farm, it’s a good idea not to complain about the asparagus. And if you’re going to live on Planet Earth, which is in a constant flux of change, it’s a really good mental health move to stop bitching about transition.

Change is not inevitable–change is essential.

Change is the possibility of carrying the garbage out the door.

Change is being forced to consider the bottom line instead of just falling on your ass.

Change is when the Mother Nature, God, common sense, chaos and love meet together and agree, by some miracle, what direction to head.

Trying to appear “set in your ways” only beckons the concrete removers to come and chisel you out of your opinion.

What should our attitude be? What does it mean to be changeable?

Changeable is knowing that things will change–and if we get ahead of the process, we might actually have the privilege of determining some of the outcome.

 

 

 

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Change

Change: (v) to make or become different

A prototype is required.

Human beings cannot run on ideas, just like lovers fail to subsist on kisses. If something needs to be changed, it needs to be seen so it can be
imitated.

We talk too damn much. We yap and yap and yap and still plan for another talk show.

Seeing is believing.

The faith to believe may come through hearing a good idea, but the human species requires some evidence before rendering its verdict.

If you think the world needs to be a more loving place, then you need to visualize and also make visible a loving life.

If you think the world lacks music, make good music that’s sensitive to the audience’s heart instead of just your finicky taste.

If you think the world needs Jesus, make Jesus human instead of dangling the divine in front of the disappointed.

If you think the Republican Party is going to change our nation, offer some obvious results that can be eyeballed.

If you think the Democrats hold the key, develop a news reel of your plans that make it crystal clear where you wish to head.

Change for change’s sake is rather changeless. It just never catches on.

But if we’re able to see how it benefits our entire being–heart, soul, mind and strength–we just might pick up a tambourine and join the band.

 

 

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Chandler

Chandler: (n) a dealer in supplies and equipment for ships and boats.

Looking back, I realize my oldest brother was a chandler. He was only in his twenties when he decided to open a marina. He sold boats, fixed boats, tied boats, and also sold boating equipment.

I remember as a young man, being very impressed, surprised and intimidated by his success. (My greatest success at that time was getting two A’s in a row in
chemistry–neither of which I deserved.)

My oldest brother was a chandler. I do not know if he loved boats or not. I don’t recall him talking incessantly about watercraft. He did like to fish.

But what prompted him to take the big leap of faith in his youthful years, to establish such a business for the folks who wanted to sail the waters of Hoover Lake, near Columbus, Ohio? (We called it a lake–actually, it was a reservoir.)

My brother ran his business for several years, and then a bigshot came to town with more boats, more equipment, more floor space, more advertising, and more of whatever more will buy. My brother could not keep up. He lost his business.

He was a determined man of discipline and taut feelings. If he was truly devastated, he never let anyone know–at least, not me.

But he never quite found anything to replace his marina. Perhaps it was a chandler he was intended to be–and by intended, I mean desired. Once that was gone, he found himself selecting from Column B.

Yes, perhaps that’s where we all lose our zest for life–wearily thumbing through Column B to try to find something that comes anywhere close to what we once had in Column A.

Yet it feels good, now that my brother has passed on, to write this small article and tout him as the chandler he was.

I think he would like that.

 

 

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Chancy

Chancy: (adj) subject to unpredictable changes and circumstances

My confidence is kept in a bucket. You may not know it, but yours, too.

  • It’s not in a salt shaker, where it can be sprinkled.

It’s not in a cup, where it can be gradually poured.

Generally speaking, I have to take all of my confidence and dump it into the next thing I’m pursuing. Confidence cannot be used sparingly.

So we often find ourselves looking in the face of a “chancy opportunity”–wondering if it’s worth our confidence.

I feel that way about so many things I wouldn’t even know where to start.

I think the American way of government is a chancy proposal, that still demands my full bucket of confidence.

I think the marital institution is a very chancy proposal–fifty-fifty, if you will–which still requires I bring a full bucket of confidence.

I think the whole belief system which contends there is a single God who created the universe and is waiting to meet us in heaven, is rather chancy.

But I certainly cannot enter into it halfheartedly or with extreme doubt.

It’s a chancy thing.

Every day of our lives we dump confidence into our jobs, our families, our doctors, our lawyers–hoping that our great investment will bear dividends.

There is no man or woman alive who does not live by faith.

Just some of us decide to call it God.

 

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Chance

Chance: (n) the possibility of something happening

I have a chap who is one of my daily readers, who constantly becomes infuriated whenever I use the word “chance.” He contends that using
“opportunity” is always preferred.

It is a school of thought that there’s no such thing as luck.

But I must tell you, if I did not believe in luck, chance, happenstance or any other synonym found in my thesaurus, I would never be able to comprehend God. I cannot envision a Creator who scurries around His universe trying to repair minor matters, similar to a maintenance man at a dilapidated apartment complex.

  • There have to be systems.
  • These systems have to be free of prejudice.
  • They have to be self-perpetuating.
  • And they must integrate with one another.

That is why dissociating God and science is similar to running your car on only oil, without water, or vice versa.

If there is free will–and there is–there must be a system in place which allows for good choices, education, wisdom and perseverance to obtain more chances for those who are determined.

So from time to time, those who are not worthy of consideration do stumble on the right numbers for the lottery ticket. Without time and chance, we are living on a sphere which is dictating to us, instead of opening the door to change through our vision and actions.

Not everything is an opportunity. Sometimes there is no reason whatsoever for what happens to us.

It reminds us that the random nature of science requires that we stay on our toes, and affect as many components of our lives as possible.

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Champagne

Champagne: (n) a white sparkling wine associated with celebration

I’ve never convinced myself to spend more than a dollar-fifty on a bottle of drink, so imagine my shock the first time somebody gave me champagne and explained to me how expensive it was. That, along with the taste (and my inability to figure out popping the cork) has kept
me away from what most people consider to be a magical elixir.

When I hear the word “champagne,” I think of the town in Illinois where the university is housed. I know it’s not spelled the same–but that’s where my brain goes.

Being an Ohio State Buckeye fan since birth, I have always feared the word because it meant the Ohio State University team would have to play the Illini.

Illinois just always seemed to have the number of my favorite team, and even in off seasons when it seemed they couldn’t beat anyone else, they always at least threatened to “de-nut” the Buckeyes.

Matter of fact, we are not sure (because my mother was living in a retirement home at the time) but it was shortly after Illinois defeated Ohio State one Saturday afternoon, that my mum had a coronary and died. I am not giving you solid evidence that the game was the cause, but I have taken the precaution to make sure that whenever I watch any game, but especially that Illinois one, that I have fully meditated and calmed my innards.

 

 

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