Cigar

Cigar: (n) a cylinder of tobacco rolled in tobacco leaves for smoking.

I work very hard at being a man.

I thought having a penis and a beard would be sufficient, but turns out, both of those things are too common to set you apart from the herd.

“Manly things done by manly men in a manly way.”

What in the hell is that?

But you shouldn’t question it too much, because that brings up the possibility of you being gay, which is not a bad thing anymore, but might connote that you are “soft.”

You know what soft is, right? Neither team wants you.

Women think you’re nice for conversation and men keep wondering when you’re going to finally turn gay.

That’s the way I feel about cigars.

I get offered cigars a lot–and by a lot, I mean more than once. People who smoke cigars are historians. They not only know all the details of the little brown tube, but where it began, who smokes this particular brand, how illegal they are, and an absolute plethora of adjectives to describe the smoothness of the taste.

In my lifetime I have smoked two cigarettes and three cigars. (Yay! Cigars win!) Anyway, I can’t truthfully tell you that I adequately partook of either experience. I did not inhale. Just like President Clinton, my morality suddenly clicked in right before taking a deep breath. So the smoke remained in my mouth, barely escaping into my nose–where it stung really, really, really bad. I struggled not to choke. (God, please don’t let me choke! I’m sitting in front of someone I want to impress and I don’t want to be choking on the $54 cigar he just presented to me.)

Yet it was unpleasant.

For two days, no matter how much teeth brushing or mouth-washing I did, cigar residue clung to the inside cave of my mouth.

I have nothing against cigarettes or cigars from an ethical or moral position, but if it’s going to be a symbol of manliness, please mark me down: “N for neuter.”

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Cider

Cider: (n) an unfermented drink made by crushing fruit, typically apples.

It was less than two miles outside of our town.

There was a family with a farm who had apple trees and a press.

A cider press.

It was delicious.

Looking back, the climate that surrounded apple cider during my upbringing was transcendent of anything that I later or even now experience.

The trees were filled with colorful leaves, the air was brisk and made you want to leap a little when you walked, and the cider was glob-in-your-throat sweet.

Every once in a while my mother accidentally left some in the refrigerator too long and it would get zippy. Some zing.

I did not realize that it had slightly fermented (I’m not sure how anything can slightly ferment) but I desperately enjoyed it.

I remember going to Halloween parties. The menu was so simple: cider, caramel apples, doughnuts and candy corn. (One kid in our class said it was well-balanced because the candy corn was a vegetable.)

Sugar, sugar, sugar.

I don’t know how we ever worked it off–and maybe we didn’t. It would literally kill me today if I had a doughnut with cider and a side of candy corn. I would be rushed to the hospital.

But hopefully the Emergency Room would be nearby, on a brisk day, with the leaves about to fall.

 

 

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-cide

-cide: (combining form) denoting a person or substance that kills.

Sitting here leisurely in my comfortable chair being allowed the luxury of thought, I am suddenly and completely overwhelmed with the futility of killing.

I don’t know why it struck me that way this morning. I didn’t have any trouble eating my breakfast sausage, which certainly required the life
 of a pig (or was it a turkey?)

But overall, I am bewildered.

It seems to me that as long as we live in a world where an insult from our neighbor causes us to close down communication, and further intimidation coming from this newly found enemy pushes us to contemplate violence, won’t we always just be two steps away from murder–especially when those portions of life which are supposed to soften our hearts–moments like spirituality–are mysteriously fueled by feuds and sensations of supremacy? What will ever drag us away from the “killing fields?”

I shall not continue sharing much more because I fear that I’m waxing eloquent instead of relevant.

Are there people, creatures, causes, nations or even religions that deserve to be eliminated?

I don’t know.

I guess, this morning, all I’m telling you is, I sure as hell don’t want to be the one to de-“cide.”

 

 

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Ciao

Ciao: (exclam) used as a greeting at meeting or parting.

I really don’t want to say anything. I’m sure it’s not my right to intervene, but something must be done.

An insanity is penetrating every facet of our daily life and putrefying our communication. It must be highlighted and deleted from the
motherboard of our efforts.

There are several examples:

If you’re around someone from Israel or the Middle East, please don’t say “shalom.” It is not only predictable, it is insidious because it lets everyone know that this is the extent of your knowledge of Hebrew or Aramaic, yet you still flaunt it as if you’re bilingual.

Also, don’t say “Buenos Dias” to someone who is Hispanic. People who actually speak the language say that phrase much differently, so when you insert it, to them it sounds like you think they are deaf and you’re trying to speak slowly.

“G-o-o-o-d m-o-o-r-n-i-n-g…”

Also knowing that “oiu” is the French word for “yes,” and “nein” is the German word for “no” does not mean you can “parlez -vous francais” or “sprechen sie deutsche.”

I conclude this little rant by bringing out in cuffs the chief suspect of them all. You are not Paris Hilton. You are not Italian.

So please, for the love of God, stop saying “ciao.”

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CIA

CIA: (n) Central Intelligence Agency

It makes for good television. I suppose a movie or two has sprouted from the subject matter.

Yet having an independent organization set aside in our government for the purpose of spying, deceiving and maybe even doing illegal crap
around the world is not comforting to my soul.

I know I live in a society that tolerates some evil as long as it produces our good. Matter of fact, we don’t even call it evil unless it detracts from us.

But even though I would do nothing to stand in the way of the CIA, I am not terribly interested in knowing all the details of the subterfuge. Honestly, I feel my mission is attempting to make cheating and lying a little bit less necessary–at least in my own surroundings.

So I can be a good American by shutting my mouth and allowing the CIA to “see its way.”

 

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Chutzpah

Chutzpah: (n) shameless audacity; impudence.

One man’s impudence is another man’s courage.

I’m sure the bus driver thought Rosa Parks was very impudent when she refused to move to the back of the bus during the civil rights
conflict in Alabama.

Many of my teachers thought I was impudent when I questioned practices I felt were faulty, but were still part of the “scholastic logic.”

We live in a generation where your cause is meaningless to me and my cause is sanctioned by the will of God.

Yet I would never use the word “chutzpah.” It’s not because I’m anti-Semetic (which most people under the age of twenty would define as having something against cement.)

It’s just that I find the introduction of impudence, strife or vanity only complicate my possibilities instead of enhancing them. We are a race that promotes self-esteem while greatly enamored with humility.

I realize it is possible to be too humble, but it’s a risk each one of us should take.

Because when two impudent people stand on the field of play, hurling insults at one another, boasting of their prowess, the whistle does eventually blow, beginning the game. At that point, it becomes obvious who is better trained, who has a more ingenious plan and who will endure.

One great gift you can give to yourself is to shut up, impart your gift, and see how it rates amidst the cascading efforts of others.

 

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Churn

Churn: (v) to move about vigorously.

It all depends what you disrupt.

If you stir up and churn milk and have the patience to stay with it, you get creamy, sweet butter. On the other hand, you can probably sit all
 day long churning dirt, and even if you add water, you will end up with muddy conclusions.

It isn’t always effective to motivate people or circumstances. If there is quality, intelligence, spirit and humility, then churning can bring about a beautiful, natural change.

But if people are stubborn, angry, racist and ignorant, churning normally initiates violence.

You’ve got to judge your circumstances.

Is there enough milk of human kindness in the people you’re dealing with to see them turn into butter?

 

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Churlish

Churlish: (adj) rude in a mean-spirited and surly way.

Some things should not change.

I understand evolution is part of our planet, but there are a few things that need to remain the same–otherwise, we start nurturing evil
without ever realizing how it was conceived.

Two of the axioms that should remain the same are the definitions for rude and kind.

Without the definition for rude being set in stone, we begin to accept churlish behavior as being either grown-up, business-like or necessary for maintaining order.

The definition of rude is as follows: “I am going to speak to you without taking your feelings into consideration.”

The definition of kind is equally plain: “I’m going to speak to you as if I am talking to myself.”

When we start changing these definitions, we let in the bad attitudes, ill-tempered mannerisms and selfishness which turn the human race away from the Garden of Eden, toward the Jungle of the Beast.

It is not easy to be kind, but it is much more difficult to be churlish.

When rudeness is set in motion, it will continue and grow in its severity until a determined wall of kindness prohibits it.

 

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Church

Church: (n) a building used for public Christian worship.

Sometimes I need to laugh. I require a place for that.

Tears are often demanded. Once again, having a location where I can share them with others would be beneficial.

I need to go somewhere and know that I’m not the most important thing in the world. Where’s the address?

I like good music. I’m a little bit country; I’m a little bit rock and roll.

I need to see that I’m not alone. Difficult to do if you don’t gather somewhere.

Over and over and over again, I must be reminded to “love my neighbor as myself.” There should be some sort of joint that advertises that.

I know my money is to cover bills, but every once in a while, I need to think about the “Bill” that’s on the street. Any group of people willing to teach that?

I need to find agreement in the midst of a disagreeable world. Let the conversation begin.

In my moments of clarity, I do understand that I’m lost–in need of a Savior. Any candidates?

Even if I find out after I die that there is no heaven and no hell, I need to live my life as if heaven is available.

We sure could use church if church were what it’s supposed to be. If it’s merely an overblown expression of appreciation for some particular definition of God, then basically, it’s more of an annoyance than a bounty.

Let’s find the church.

If we can’t, let’s make one up.Donate Button

 

Chump

Chump: (n) a foolish or easily deceived person.

Self deception eliminates the possibility of blaming anyone else–and the best ways to be self-deceived are to be arrogant and defensive. I have done both.

I didn’t need to, but I was so afraid that I would be left out of the complexion of the new face of an idea that I got really fussy, picky and
 ultimately intolerably pushy.

I became a chump.

Truthfully, there is no way to avoid becoming a chump unless you acknowledge the parts of yourself that initiate such a transformation. If your Dr. Jekyll does not recognize the stirrings of your Mr. Hyde, you will certainly find yourself apologizing for the actions of your lower self.

I find there are three things that always bring out the worst in me:

  1. Jealousy
  2. Fear of losing my virility
  3. And failing to sit down and realize what I have before I demand more.

I become a chump.

Unfortunately, there are people across this country who know me only as a chump because I’ve never had the chance to change my image, in front of them … to champ.Donate Button