Coordinate: (v) to place or arrange in proper order or position.

“Where am I?”

I find that many people spend too much time trying to figure out, “Who am I?”

There is some childish notion that we can be separate from the rest of humankind without any regard for the flow of the times, and be able to maintain our autonomy without finding ourselves lonely and out of step.funny wisdom on words that begin with a C

It is not 1955. We do not have television shows where men and women who are married have to sleep in separate beds. We are allowed to say the word “pregnant.” Chauvinism is no longer an acceptable behavior, or even one that can be winked at as just part of “human tribe banter.”

It is not 1974. We are no longer going to tolerate a President who breaks the law and tries to cover it up. (At least I hope not.)

It is not 1985. We are no longer promoting greed and believing that the AIDS virus is a punishment from God against the gay community.

Where am I?” is a very important question. If I am not able to coordinate what I believe in some sort of harmony with the world around me, I will not only be ineffective, but can quickly gain the reputation for being bigoted and notorious.

While I am sure some people are frightened that we’re losing the moral fiber of our society, a decision was made millions and millions of years ago by a Creator—to imbue His creation with free will.

Free-will opens the door to evolution. Evolution invites change.

There is only one immutable fact: if we don’t love our neighbor as ourselves, we will always be out of step and out of time.

We must coordinate with the world around us.

To do so, we must honor where we are much more than who we are.

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Cooperstown: (n) location of the Baseball Hall of Fame

Never was a big baseball fan.

The point should be made that I never was a little baseball fan.

But I admire baseball.

Baseball is a sport that I would have come up with to justify being involved in athletics without actually breaking a sweat very often.funny wisdom on words that begin with a C

It offers the perfect balance of exercise: one minute of exertion for five minutes of sitting, standing, contemplating, waiting and practice-swinging the bat.

It’s genius.

It has all the other elements that other sports possess. I’m talking about uniforms, equipment, scoring, players, cheerleaders, hot dogs, peanuts and cracker jacks.

But if, for some reason, you forgot to show up for spring training, or your gym equipment broke down over the winter, you could still appear and participate in the game.

It truly is the Great American Pastime.

And for those who made it to Cooperstown, to the Hall of Fame, they have taught us well:

The best way to pass time is to do as little as possible.

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Cooperate: (v) to work or act together or jointly for a common purpose or benefit.

Life sent me a text.

It asked me if I had a few minutes to sit down and discuss some things. Normally I would have been responsive, but it was a busy day.

Sometimes I intend to return messages to people but then I get absorbed in happenings and my very, very good intentions are set to the side. These people are often offended. They don’t understand how much I really wanted to get back to them.funny wisdom on words that begin with a C

So Life texted me again. This time the request came with four exclamation points. I hate it when people overuse punctuation on the Internet, don’t you? It’s so ignorant. Do they really think that’s going to get my attention?

So this time, I refused to respond on principle—surely it must be some sort of scam.

The following week Life texted me again, and insisted that something needed to be done very soon, or else.

I despise it when people threaten me. Don’t you? Because if you follow up, trying to find out what it’s about, you discover they just played you to get your attention.

Honest to God, if I chased every person warning me about something, or informing me about another thing, I wouldn’t get anything else done.

So I came up with an emoji which I sent back to life. A cute one. I think it was a creature sticking out its tongue.

That kind of summed up my feelings about Life’s interference in my daily activity—especially the pushiness I was feeling from the unwanted messages.

Then all of a sudden, I died.

I arrived at some sort of place that seemed to have an atmosphere, but was completely suspended in time. Standing there waiting for me was Life.

Not seeing anybody else to talk to, I stepped up to Life and said, “What happened? I was too young for this.”

Life looked at me smugly and said, “Did you get my texts?”

“Yes,” I replied, wondering what in the heck that had to do with anything under the sun.

Life took a deep breath. “I texted you because I wanted to let you know that several alarms had gone off in your body which you were ignoring, and you needed to go get yourself checked out.”

I frowned. “Why didn’t you tell me it was important?”

Life groaned, then spoke slowly. “You see, that’s the problem with human beings. You think anything that you don’t know about is an interference, never realizing that most problems can be avoided if you will just stop, listen, receive the message, and cooperate.”

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Coop: (n) an enclosure, cage, or pen

When you’re six years old, life boils down to magical castles, super heroes and fire-breathing dragons.

So when my dad took me out to the little farm we maintained (so we wouldn’t appear to be city folks living high on the hog in a village of fifteen hundred people) we went for a walk through the chicken coop.funny wisdom on words that begin with a C

I was unimpressed.

It was not a magical castle, nor did I see much potential for a hero named Super Chicken and there were no fire-breathing dragons.

That is . . .

Until the next morning, when my dad came into the little farm cottage, ranting and raving about the fox which had slit the throats of three chickens.

Keep in mind—I was six years old and did not know what a fox was, nor had I ever seen a creature with its throat slit. All I knew was that this fox had figured out a way to burrow underneath the fence to get the chickens.

Not lacking creativity, I envisioned a creature in a black cape with huge eyes darting from side to side, who was able through mystical powers, to lower his body frame to ground level, to wiggle underneath wire, only to rise up again and run through the chicken coop with his black cape, placing some sort of elaborate necklace on the hens’ throats.

Obviously, this had nothing whatsoever to do with what my father described, and much later in life, when I realized what a fox was and how dangerous it was to have one loose in the henhouse, I grasped the literal comprehension of the situation.

But I want to tell you—my six-year-old rendition was so much better.

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Coon: (n) a raccoon

The only dog I’ve had in my adult life I picked up as a rescue and selected him because he was sitting quietly in the corner, not barking and biting at the other dogs around him.

Little did I know that the reason he was so contemplative was that he was very sick and dying. I spent the first two nights with him sitting on my shoulder, petting him and praying for him. (Some people would think it’s stupid to pray for dogs, but I have a similar humorous reaction to the term “vegan.”)funny wisdom on words that begin with a C
He was advertised as a “beagle mix.”

Much mix.

But one fellow saw him as I was walking him through the park and asked if he could purchase the animal—because he was very interested in owning a “coon dog.”

I was confused. The gentleman explained that what I had was an animal which had so much hound in him that the breeding would show up under certain circumstances in the pursuit of small wildlife.

I just shook my head in disbelief.

He asked permission to take the leash, and he walked my dog toward a small rabbit which was running around in the grass. My mutt stopped, froze like a statue, lifted his nose and stared at the little rabbit like he was offering it for consideration.

The man turned to me and said, “You see? What you got here is a coon hound.”

I laughed and replied, “Looks to me like he’s more of a pointer.”

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Cool: (adj) moderately cold; neither warm nor cold

You can tell you’re a hot-head because you sweat the small stuff. But the question remains, what must be done to make sure cooler heads prevail?

Here’s a clue: you can’t just have a cool head. Your whole persona has to be cool.funny wisdom on words that begin with a C

People who are stringent, unforgiving or dogmatic will not suddenly wake up one morning and say, “You know, I need to be more forgiving.”

A cool head begins with cool feet—feet that aren’t afraid to walk the path of life, knowing that some detours and adjustment are inevitable.

It’s a good idea to have cool knees—that means when you find yourself knocked down to them, rather than melting in a pool of self-pity, you take a moment to pray before you rise again.

Certainly, cool hands are required for everyone, not just Luke—a sense that you will linger and care about people with your touch, instead of yank them, push them or strike them.

Cool eyes—looking for great possibility instead of darkness.

Cool ears—hearing the better parts of the conversation and discarding the ignorance.

Cool is when you know that being hot burns things up and being cold freezes progress. Yet, arriving lukewarm makes everybody want to vomit.

Cool is that temperature where human beings actually gain the capacity to tolerate one another.

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Cookie: (n) small cake made from sweet dough rolled and sliced or dropped by spoonfuls

A true case for the value of an eternity is made merely by mentioning the word “cookie.”

Since there is no justice in this lifetime, we all are desperately in need of a supernal destination where all things wrong are made right.funny wisdom on words that begin with a C

Cookies should never be considered bad.

It’s a part of our fallen nature—our sinful demeanor—that has turned these luscious globules, chipped from heavenly clouds, to be relegated to merely sugar, fat and calories.

For those who don’t believe in Satan, consider an athletic gentleman standing next to your cookie jar lecturing you about how unhealthy these godly pieces of divine delight truly are.

Yes, he is Satan. He tempts and then withholds.

There has to be a place where we finally come to the conclusion that kale goes to hell, and cookies dwell, along with you and me, in heavenly bliss.

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