Copy

Copy: (v) to make a copy of; transcribe; reproduce:

My mother was totally convinced of it.

You could not change her mind.

She believed if I hung around with bad kids, I would copy their behavior.

It made me mad. I didn’t understand why she didn’t think they could hang around with me and copy my behavior.  Of course, the problem was, I always turned funny wisdom on words that begin with a C
up lame and proved her point.

Why is it so much easier to copy stupidity than intelligence?

Why are we able to Xerox a bad attitude instead of making copies of good ones?

It is because all of us are basically frightened that we’re missing out on something. If we do too many good things, then we’ll never know how much fun the bad ones could have been. So we continue to pursue errant behavior, hoping it will bring a thrill, and then suddenly, without warning, we face the consequences of our actions, and are shocked when we either find ourselves defiled or dead.

Why can’t we have people who pursue joy, goodness, praiseworthy activities and creativity, who are secure enough that they could sway the sinner instead of slipping from sainthood to mediocrity?

I don’t know.

But my mother always felt self-righteous about being accurate concerning me hanging out with questionable characters.

I probably should have told her that self-righteousness is also a sin.


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Communique

Communique: (n) an official announcement or statement, especially one made to the media

My official communique to America:

President Donald Trump is our leader. It is now time for one group to stop incessantly complaining and another group to cease pumping their
fists as if they just landed on the moon wearing only Bermuda shorts.

This is our system.

We place someone in the White House.

You may feel free to debate whether we actually “elect” them, or rather, “process” them into the position, like Velveeta cheese spread.

If we believe our main problem is the person who is sleeping in the White House, then we suffer the slings and arrows of stupidity which come our way because we fail to recognize our true difficulty.

When I was a younger man, I would caution people not to treat people like dogs.

Now my message has changed.

Please–treat people like dogs, because you obviously love them, respect them and honor them more than you do human beings.

Until we can regain our sanity and realize that certain activities are not choices, but rather, anti-human race, we will have worse problems than whether someone we like sits in a chair in the Oval Office.

So the communique is very simple: look to yourself and those of your household, and make sure that your neighbors are being treated as well as Rover, Jr.

If they are, then you can stop worrying about the future of our country. Goodness has a tendency to get a grip and take hold.

 

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Cold-call

Cold-call: (n) an unsolicited visit or telephone call made by someone trying to sell goods or services.

“Good morning! My name is…”

I immediately could tell that the person on the other end of the line was not convinced of the goodness of the morning, and did not give one flying Frito pie as to what my name was.

In baseball that’s called Strike Two.

What I did next would determine whether I would immediately go to Strike Three in the first twenty seconds, or survive, crossing thirty seconds–or the amazing possibility of a minute.

Cold-calling.

So referred to because it is calling that is made to human icebergs.

Usually when I realized that the person I was speaking to was not convinced of the beauty of the day, and was not impressed with my name, I would unfortunately have that two-second gulp in my throat.

This was always the length of time it took the individual who had already expressed indifference, to come in and close the deal on me.

“Listen, I don’t need anything. Bye.”

My supervisor in the company pointed out to me that when I was doing the cold-calling–the phone solicitation–I had deprived this individual of the benefit–dare he say, blessing?–of hearing about the terrific product.

All of this done through a misplaced gulp.

I got better. Sometimes I survived past the first gulp and got all the way to this phrase:

“What I’m calling you about today…”

Then a second wall, needing to hurdled, standing tall, wide and thick, suddenly rose before my nose–and once again, was terminated with the party on the other line (who, by the way, was not having a party) excusing him or herself and hanging up.

If I could get to the one-minute mark, where I explained how the product I was offering was not only beneficial but terribly inexpensive, I found that one out of four times I actually made a sale.

Let’s analyze the numbers:

Ninety percent of the people cut me off at my first gulp.

Five percent of the people stopped me with “the great wall.”

This means that five out of every one hundred people became my potential market of sales. I would have to ask you (and myself) what I would do in life if the potential for it only rallied five out of every one hundred times?

Honest to God, I think I would give up sex over that.

Cold-calling is something that many adults in the past experienced in an attempt to escape being criticized for not having a job.

And by itself–with its trials, its rejection and its nastiness–it nearly turned all of us into vagrants.

 

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Coincidence

Coincidence: (n) a remarkable concurrence of events or circumstances without apparent cause

I’ve never actually tallied the number.

I think it would be fairly interesting to go through the entire dictionary and meter the words provided, based upon whether they offer a positive result for humanity or usher in a negative one.

Some words would be obvious:

Peace would go in one category and war in another.

Joy would have its own space and sadness would hobble to the corner to be alone.

But there are certain words that would be more difficult to categorize:

Coincidence.

Coincidence comes from the term “coincide,” which means to happen at the same time, whereas coincidence requires a bit of magic.

An unexpected arrival.

Which one is it?

I believe each and every one of us is privately are always trying to place our self into situations that will grant us fulfillment.

It may be the definition of sanity.

I go places that make me feel good. If I don’t go places that make me feel good, I end up feeling bad by my own decision.

So is it possible that we maneuvers our beings to coincide with promising possibilities, and then, all of a sudden we find ourselves in a delightful coincidence?

Are we manipulators of our circumstances, so that we can declare a miracle from God?

Do we shift, shimmy and wiggle our way on streets that we deem will give us an avenue to pleasure instead of pain, and then act pleasantly surprised at our destination?

Perhaps it’s just impossible to have coincidence without coinciding our energy in a particular direction.

All I know is, the more I try to be happy, the more often happiness inhabits my heart.

Disheartened? I use it to confirm my disappointment.

I will coincide with good things so when the coincidence of goodness comes my way, I can be overjoyed.

 

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Cheesy

Cheesy: (adj) cheap, unpleasant, or blatantly inauthentic.

Wow, did you read that definition?

I guess Webster was really loaded for bear against “cheesy.”

Blatantly inauthentic?? Well, that would mean that each one of us would actually know or be acquainted with what is authentic.

We are not.

Everybody has their own taste in “cheesy.” (Please forgive that offering.)

In other words, if you go to a fundraiser, fighting some disease, they will drag all sorts of pitiful people in front of you to tell their stories of debilitation to
establish the need for contributions. This is not considered cheesy because…well, I guess because it is trying to help sick people.

Traveling on the road, I see a myriad of local TV commercials which try way too hard to be entertaining while inserting inordinate amounts of information in a thirty-second capsule. I might consider them cheesy, but the people involved would just declare them a “sales strategy.”

Sometimes I go to church and they bring the children’s choir up to sing “Jesus Loves Me,” as the adults feel compelled to ooh and aah, or say “Amen,” or worst of all, stand for a cheesy ovation. But it’s not really–it’s our kids, after all.

But then something comes our way that we are not invested in, is not our livelihood, and did not come from our loins, and we suddenly turn into critics, calling it maudlin, silly or cheesy.

Everyone is fully aware that without reaching the human heart, it is unlikely that you will impact our race. And what touches our emotions is rarely deep or convoluted. No, it’s some sort of kitty-cat video, where the little pussy runs across the frame chasing a bit of string and suddenly runs into a wall.

We giggle, embarrassed, and then repent by whispering, “Be careful, little kitty…”

The human race is cheesy. We are moved by the simplest of sentiments and absolutely baffled by complex interpretations.

You can feel free to act aggravated or high-falutin’ when you see something that yanks on your feelings, trying to pull you in the direction of glee or tears.

But without these gentle reminders of goodness and wonder, we become animals, growling at each other across the rain forest.

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Censure

Censure: (n) the expression of formal disapproval.

Why is it not illegal to be an asshole?

I’m not speaking about capital punishment or even hard jail time. But certainly a stiff fine would be in order for being such a damn stiff.

We censure everything else. We raise our eyebrows in disapproval over a myriad of common human behaviors. Why is the asshole able to flee the jurisdiction of decency?

Wait. I see your problem. You would like me to define what an asshole is:

  1. An asshole is someone who tries to steal freedoms from other people simply because those folks don’t measure up to the favored code.
  2. An asshole is a person who hurts someone’s feelings and then pretends that it was nothing personal.
  3. An asshole is an individual who blows his or her horn in traffic instead of slowing up just a little bit, to let someone enter.
  4. An asshole is a Bible-thumper who quotes scriptures in a buffet line.
  5. An asshole is a jerk who posts articles on Facebook about other assholes

Honestly, I could go on and on, but then I would be in danger of becoming an asshole myself.

It is time to use the intimidation of censure to achieve some goodness in our society instead of thinking that goodness is achieved by censuring any fresh, new idea.

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Cadence

 

j-r-practix-with-border-2
Cadence:
(n) the flow or rhythm of events

I remember the first time I heard the phrase. I was a young man sitting in a church with a white shirt collar that was too small for me, wearing a colorful tie which
had to be tucked into my pants because it was perniciously uneven.

The phrase was “decency and order.”

The minister was pretty sure he knew understood. He preached a sermon offering a cadence of commitment to form and reason. He contended that Godly ways had to be morally correct and follow a sequence which left no doubt of the purity of the intention.

For instance: sin–but not too much, to where it leaves a lasting mark. Come to your senses, find God, repent, get a job, marry, have children and donate adequate sums to your local congregation.

I hated it.

It’s not that I favored immorality nor was an anarchist. Even though I had an immature young mind, I understood that this was not the true cadence of life. Life arrives in chaos and requires triage.

What do I take care of first? How can I keep this together? What can I seek out to keep from freaking out?

It just seemed to me that sometimes there isn’t enough time and space available to consider the ultimate morality or the best way to stack up possibilities.

I don’t know what the original author of these words was trying to convey, but human beings are rarely “decent” and never “in order.”

If God Almighty is waiting for us to transform into a dutiful and meticulous creation, He certainly failed to provide the raw material. We are erratic. We are uncertain. And our greatest mission in life is to make sure we’re not afraid of who we are.

Sometimes the best we can do is slow things down and use what we’ve got. I suppose that doesn’t sound quite as officious as “decency and order,” but it is more accurate.

Over the years I have tried to become more adept at organization and goodness–but when I fail, I have chosen to laugh at the frailty instead of weeping over my insufficiency.

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