Convoy

Convoy: (n) the protection provided by an escort.

I will offer my one and single lamentation to you at this time:

I do not know what the value is of living so long that you have numerous experiences, delightful stories, and even warnings to share that nobody in the present age wishes to hear—because anything that has happened more than seven years ago is classified with the dinosaurs.funny wisdom on words that begin with a C

So if you’re a writer, or boldly call yourself an author, you must take into consideration that the present batch of readers have the foresight and vision of Mr. Magoo, who, by the way, they would not be familiar with.

Yet today, when I saw the word convoy, I was reminded of a time in the 1970’s, when our country was experiencing gasoline shortages. You had to actually think about when to purchase fuel, because the next location to get some might be far away.

There were practices of taking the last numbers on your license plate, and if it was an odd digit you could get gas on a certain day, and even numbers on other days.

In the midst of this slight rationing, it was conceived by intelligent men and women in Washington, D.C. that a great way to save fuel was to create a national speed limit of 55 miles per hour. (I know some of you young’uns may be giggling, but this actually happened.)

Now, I cannot tell you how tedious a 500-mile journey was if you followed the letter of the law and drove 55 miles per hour. Yet there were highway patrolmen all over the place picking people up, and even creating road blocks, to trap those who dared to exceed the “double-nickels.”

The whole era was eventually brought down by truck drivers, who clumped together in large convoys, sometimes ten miles in length, driving 70 miles an hour, challenging the authorities to pick them up en masse.

Just as Prohibition was eventually repealed due to fondness of spirits, the 55 mile per hour speed limit was very soon embedded deeply in our history as a folly of the foolish.

But it took a convoy.

It always takes a convoy.

Your one vote does not stop an onslaught of stupidity. Get together with your friends. Line up ten miles deep—and see how quickly the government lets you speed on.


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Contrast

Contrast: (v) to compare to show differences

 If dinosaurs had figured out how to get along with each other instead of hanging out in packs of those who were similar in style, then I don’t know funny wisdom on words that begin with a Cwhether the human race would have been given the chance to occupy the planet.

So perhaps it’s time for us to learn from the dinosaur’s mistake, which is:

If raptors hang out with raptors, and the T. Rex only hangs around with other T. Rexes, pretty soon everyone who doesn’t have exactly the same height, weight and scaly skin that you do is an enemy—to be attacked and eaten.

Dinosaurs were very successful at contrasting their differences, which stalled cooperation and promoted conflict.

Nowadays, some ingenious individual with a doctorate sits in his or her laboratory and decides the best way for human beings to get along is to contrast their differences, teaching us to be tolerant based upon those discoveries.

Lo and behold, just like the dinosaurs, once things are contrasted, we start wanting to hang around those who look, act, agree, walk and talk just like us—and rather than having an epiphany of appreciation for those who are different, we consciously, or even unconsciously, alienate them as inferior, and eventually contrive ways to attack and hurt them.

If dinosaurs had realized they were all dinosaurs—that they were covered with similar skin texture, though it may have differed in color—they could have ruled the world for many more millennia.

But they contrasted.

They found differences.

And in finding them they created adversaries instead of commonality.

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Antediluvian

dictionary with letter A

Antediluvian: (adj) of or belonging to the time before the Biblical flood

I must not be the only one–or if I am the only one, I would have to question why I find myself alone.

I would enjoy being allowed to believe in a God who loves people, challenges us to excellence, and asks us to be tolerant of one another without being tied in with barefoot, emotionally Neanderthal sorts who seem to permeate the sanctuary of spiritual thought with outdated concepts and hurtful expletives.

It is very easy in an agnostic-driven society to become the target of pseudo-intellectual critics who try to trap you into defending Jonah and the whale, Daniel in the lion’s den and Noah and the flood.

Recently when I told a friend that I believe that the trinity of God, Nature and Science have no argument with one another and are complementary, he became incensed, insisting that he wanted them separate because the charm of each one lies in its difference from the others.

I was bewildered by that thought. I decided to leave him to his own mental escapade and walk off quietly into the distance.

If there was a great flood, there was also a great season of evolution which preceded it, where dinosaurs walked the face of the earth.

I have no problem with that.

I don’t look at stories from the Good Book as being eyewitness accounts with accompanying photographs. I look at them as tales passed from one generation to another, to encourage the fresh offspring to pursue kindness, goodness, gentleness and hope.

Unfortunately, like in any book, extra narrative is thrown in which does not advance the story.

  • I want to believe in God without having to defend the writings that surround Him.
  • I want to love people because God loves people, without believing that some of them are chosen and others, uncircumcised.
  • I want to live my life with a sense of purpose and emotional grandeur instead of feeling as if I am “one with the walrus.”

I don’t think I’m alone here.

When religion stops putting pressure on mankind to be morally astute, and atheists realize that a life without a Father turns this joint into an orphanage, we will actually begin to make progress … through our humanhood with one another. 

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Al dente

Words from Dic(tionary)

dictionary with letter A

Al dente: (adj) cooked so as to be still firm when bitten.

Even though I am not the type of individual to pursue conspiracy theories, I have to admit that occasionally there is great evidence of a conspiracy at work.

For you see, the minute I find something I deeply enjoy in life, it is only a short passage in time before it is revealed to me that this particular delight is going to kill me.

Perhaps it’s the only way God could ever get human beings off the earth–by creating pleasures that provide temporary satisfaction with terminal results leading to eternal life. Otherwise, we would hang around, indulging forever, and never be good dinosaurs, making our way to the tar pits of … in this case, carbohydrates. Yes:.

  • Spaghetti.
  • Fettucine.
  • And noodles of all types …

Are best eaten al dente.

Otherwise, they look and even taste like they’re waterlogged little swimmers, cast onto the side of the pool, gasping for air, requiring resuscitation.

Yet, as you probably know, the more you cook spaghetti, the healthier it is–and the less you cook it, the better it tastes, but the more insidious killer carbs remain.

It’s hard to believe this is not a conspiracy.

I sometimes wonder if the Creative Genius would have made sugars, salts and flours healthy if the end result would have been happier people, more contented, willing to sit down and listen to truth until sleep overtook them from their sugar high.

But it is a fact of life–a reality of our existence. So here’s what I do.

I don’t eat spaghetti very often, but when I do, I walk on the wild side: al dente.

Agent

Words from Dic(tionary)

dictionary with letter AAgent: (n) 1. a person who acts on behalf of another 2. a person who obtains information for a government or other official organization, at times secretly

I’ve always been told I need one.

An agent, that is.

Somebody to represent me so I don’t have to represent myself, coming across arrogant, and potentially as a “klutz-in-progress.”

Here’s the problem: an agent wants to make money.

I like money. It comes in handy when the cashier sticks out his or her hand, demanding payment for some treat I’ve procured. But I also have a mission, and goals for propelling a message with what I do. Because of this, the handful of folks I have run across in my life who actually thought they might be able to make money off of me almost always began to trim back the intensity of the ideas I put forth because they felt that in doing so, they would make the project more commercial.

Why is it that we think that telling people what they believe they want to hear is the best way to ensure that they will contribute to the cause or purchase our stuff?

Historically, it’s ridiculous. Everything we use today that is common to us was once certainly out of the market and had zero value. I will agree, it takes time for need to catch up with taste. But the truth of the matter is, evolution takes care of stupidity, excess and silliness, and in no time at all, a new species of ideas has to come forward to replace the extinct, stupid ones.

For instance, we can make a fuss about eating fat grams and carbs, but honestly, people will eventually devour more fruits and vegetables or they will die off like the dinosaurs. (I digress, Back to the agent…)

So in lieu of finding that perfect little weasel or weaselette to represent me, who has two eyes on the bottom line and one nose in the air over the purity of the concept, I have discovered friends who join me on my journey, and for some reason or another, find pleasure in chasing dreams through the wilderness of life.

  • I will probably never get rich from being enriched.
  • I probably will never get famous by pursuing ideals that some people would find infamous.

But I’m having fun. And I have discovered that if you’re enjoying yourself, those who have not given up on life and are still willing to have a child-like heart ,,, will come out and play.