Convulsion

Convulsion: (n) contortion of the body caused by violent, involuntary muscular contractions

“When you are weak, you are strong.”

This concept is roundly rejected in everyday humanity, because it sounds ridiculous. So we give it the greatest insult of all—we ignore it.

When one of my sons was hit and run by a car, the brain damage that occurred through the accident left him with occasional seizures. I will never forget the first time I saw my child, who was impaired and unable to communicate, lying on the bed in the grip of a convulsion.

Helpless is where I began. It quickly moved to frantic, and then took on a bit of fury as I screamed for the nurses to come, and for somebody to do something.funny wisdom on words that begin with a C

He was so out of control. I mirrored his position.

I could not understand the worth of such ugliness and felt abandoned, desperate for some sort of purpose.

Yet I must tell you, I despised every deep thought offered to me to assuage my guilt or suggest divine guidance on the purpose of a little boy shaking and shuddering with no remedy.

I had to come to grips with me. After all, disappointment has two parts to it:

  1. Why in the hell did this happen?
  2. Why in the hell did this happen to me?

Each question has to be answered individually until some comprehension about human progress begins to settle into the fiber and DNA of our thinking.

When nothing happens, we remain the same.

When good things happen, we remain the same but arrogant.

When bad things happen, we can’t remain the same, and arrogance prohibits us from finding peace of mind.


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Condom

Condom: (n) a thin rubber sheath worn on a man’s penis during sexual intercourse

Sometimes I scold myself for being too candid about my life. There are even family members who think I should spare the public the vivid details of my inanity. But I find that you can never truly achieve heaven until you can say “what the hell?”

I have attempted to use a condom ONCE. (Maybe that’s why I have so many children. I’m thinking there’s a connection somewhere, but shall funny wisdom on words that begin with a C
not waste your time searching for it.)

I had no instructor on how to place it on my device. I’m sure I did it wrong.

It immediately created two battles: (a) staying on, and (b) me remaining erect enough to grant it a home.

It slipped and slid and I ended up reaching down in the fury and passion of pleasure and ripping it off, finishing ala naturale.

I do understand–this is way too much information. But if I haven’t lost you by now, let me conclude with this thought:

I do not offer my story of the condom because I am suggesting they are worthless, meaningless or should not be applied.

As always, I am poking fun at my fun-poker.

 

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Mr. Kringle's Tales...26 Stories 'Til Christmas

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Cobalt

Cobalt: (n) the chemical element of atomic number 27, a hard silvery-white magnetic metal.

My dad decided to die when I was sixteen years old.

He had planned it for nearly thirty years.

As a cigarette smoker who actually bought tobacco in the can and “rolled his own,” he had pretty well determined the end of his story long before he’d lived out all the plot lines.

I was one of the plot lines.

Before I found out that he had terminal lung cancer which had spread to his brain, there was a brief, three-month period when he became warmer, more tender–wanting some closeness with me.

Unfortunately, by that time I had created so much distance there was no way for me to transport myself to his side–even when I discovered he was dying.

They sat down and explained it to me, pointing out that he would be going through radiation treatments, which involved cobalt. He did.

Yet he barely survived the only cure they had available. When he returned home, he could barely walk and had trouble breathing. His skin was red like he had a deep sunburn, and he smelled like the trash we burned in the back yard.

Being around him just scared the hell out of me.

Everyone wanted me to turn into the devoted son who held the hand of his ailing father up to death’s door.

I just couldn’t do it.

Even when his breathing became so heavy that I could hear it through the walls while sitting on our porch stoop, I couldn’t bring myself to tell him that I loved him or even be present when the last gasp escaped his being.

This is my memory of cobalt.

It was used in the early years of radiation treatment, and left the patient nearly vacant of the resources to think and move.

As I sit here today, I can wish that I had been a better son and he a better father.

But that is because I have an older mind, and sometimes find it difficult to regain the fury involved in being sixteen.

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Cable

j-r-practix-with-border-2

Cable: (n) an insulated wire

Life is very reassuring if you’re not stubborn. You’ll find out very quickly that answers are not evasive, just require a moment of patience.

The first time I rented a home and decided to sign up for cable television, I was in awe of the whole process. When the cable man came–three days after his promised arrival–and brought all the boxes, all the instructions and all the drills to do his work, it had the feeling of God arriving to create the universe.

I was infatuated.

I was over-complimentary.

I was perplexed.

I listened carefully and then took notes to make sure that when the magic man departed my home, I would be able to access the universe of channels on my own.

But when he left, it suddenly stopped working.

I tried to remember what he had done, fooled around with it a little, but quickly became convinced that I was a four-year-old in a hospital operating room.

As time passed I became more and more enraged that this mysterious system I had ordered was failing to meet my entertainment needs. So I called the local cable operator and they immediately sent someone over. Two days later.

By that time I had built up a good head of steam and was prepared to ram my emotional freight train into the hapless technician. I ferociously explained how they had cheated me and how they had wasted my time. The young man was rather nice.

He asked me a simple question. “Did you move the TV after the guy left?”

Actually, yes. It was a little distant from the wall, and I had pushed it back. I retorted, “What?? I’m not allowed to move my TV?”

“Sure,” the repairman replied calmly. “But when you did, you knocked the cable loose.”

He reached down and with too much ease, restored my world of wonder.

I was embarrassed. I tried to duplicate in apologies what I had spewed forth in fury.

The repairman smiled and said to me, “Just remember–it usually isn’t something difficult. Just a loose cable.”

 

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