Caviar

Caviar: (n) the pickled roe of sturgeon or other large fish, eaten as a delicacy.

Fishy, mushy and salty. That’s how I would describe caviar.

I will now pause and consider if any one of those words is appealing.

Fish, themselves, have to be careful not to be too fishy.

We normally fry our mush so it won’t be mushy.

And salty is a lovely taste if it’s bringing out another flavor which takes predominance.

I won’t even mention the abortion of sturgeon babies that’s involved in the process of putting together this little delicacy.

But I did learn a long time ago that part of being opulent is convincing yourself that you like things that other people don’t, simply because they cost a lot of money.

It doesn’t matter if it makes you miserable or if it causes your taste buds to recoil. Learn to enjoy it so when people see you doing it they will place you in a category which is superior to the norm.

It also explains much of fashion, music and politics. If there’s money for it, then there must be a reason for it.

I am hardly a country person–but if offered caviar on a cracker, or sausage gravy on biscuits, I will pull my chair up with those south of the Mason Dixon line.

 

 

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Backward

Backward: (adj) having made less than normal progress.Dictionary B

They are the two “S words” slung by liberals and conservatives at one another to degrade the character of the opponent, rendering them emotionally mortally wounded.

For it is the liberal who declares that the conservative is “stupid,” and the conservative who insists that the liberal is “sinful.”

I, for one, am weary of the ill-doing.

As a soul who travels the country in search of my lost innocence, I encounter people of every persuasion. There are foreign nationals, natural-born Americans, religious types, atheists, female, macho men and children of all shapes, sizes and dispositions.

I don’t find those who are politically bent towards the right to necessarily be stupid, nor do I find the “left-turn crowd” to be wracked with sin. Conservatives are not backwards and liberals are not forwards.

Actually, the human race is divided between those who are humble enough to give a damn and those who believe there is no one beyond tip of their nose.

I have members of my family who are convinced that anyone who lives south of the Mason Dixon line is buried deep within the intellectual groin of our country.

And I do meet people living in more reclusive areas who are sure that the politicians in Washington, D.C. who do not place an “R” after their name are Satan’s imps.

So my mission is simple: ignore the titles and deal with the hearts.

Because if there is a Judgment Day that comes along, none of us will be able to produce any of our pedigrees, but instead will be stuck with our deeds.

And my understanding of the Judge is that He has great mercy for those who believe that no one is better than anyone else.

 

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Achernar

by J. R. Practix

dictionary with letter A

Achernar: (n.) the ninth brightest star in the sky, visible only in the southern hemisphere.

That’s me. Of the eight stars available, I am the ninth brightest.

But you see, here’s the power. Or maybe better phrased, here’s the solution: if you realize you’re the ninth brightest star, it’s a good idea not to get caught up in number envy.

No matter how hard you try to promote that idea, the natural question to those reading your advertising material would have to be: “Hmmm. I wonder where the other eight are…”

I think the key to the whole definition is this: if you’re the ninth brightest star, become important by finding your own southern hemisphere. OK. Maybe you’ll never make it to the northern hemisphere. Maybe you’re stuck below the equator, the Mason Dixon line, the belly button or just underneath the radar.

It doesn’t mean you don’t have light.

The ninth star does not look dim unless it hangs around trying to compete with Numbers Three and Four. Only stubbornness, pride and foolishness would make such a stupid choice.

Things that have “gone south” still need to be “lit up.” And if you’re the ninth brightest star, that’s your job.

I occasionally have people walk up (even though they don’t literally “walk up.” That’s just a phrase authors use to establish perspective) and they ask me, “Don’t you wish you could reach more people? Don’t you wish you were more famous? Don’t you wish …”

“Wishing” is for fairies and lamp rubbers. I stopped wishing a long time ago and now spend my time considering, planning and performing what I can do. Somewhere along the line you have to leave the rest up to time, chance and the whim of God.

So there are only two important things to remember if you’re the ninth brightest star:

  1. Find a darker place–where you look really bright.
  2. Enjoy what you have to bring instead of wishing you had more.

That’s it. If you do that, you can be like our friend, Achernar: you can do a job and have a really difficult name to pronounce …  to further guarantee your obscurity.

Abscise

by J. R. Practix

dictionary with letter A

Abscise: v. to cut off or away.

The problem with cutting is that it’s always done too quickly, with an impetuous disregard. We are so determined to divide some piece of a whole into parts that we snip away with careless abandon, leaving a jagged edge.

Oh, yes–I encounter the frayed ends every single day of my life. People are finding themselves divided by careless leaders and causes, determined to create animosity instead of finding a way to generate a sense of union.

It’s all over our country.

The Mason Dixon line is not a smooth pathway that differentiates between “Northern and Southern thinking,” but rather, a deep-rooted tear in the fabric of our nation, continuing a verbal Civil War–between those who feel progressive and those loyal to a former time.

Even in the medical field of surgery, cutting is a last resort. It is what the doctor chooses to do when the combination of medications and the human immune system fail to unite to dispel the infection.

Is it possible for us to join forces to vomit the evil from our thoughts as a nation instead of continuing to cut our flesh like some frustrated teenage girl, aggravated by her neurotic insecurity? I don’t know.

But what I have decided is to never be part of the abscising of the “Body Americana” merely to demonstrate my power and prowess. I am not better without you. I am not self-sufficient. I cannot be ripped from the lineage of my fellow-citizens and expect to maintain the integrity of my birthright and freedom.

I cannot decry you of your rights and sleep at night, content in my own. I cannot make fun of you because you fail to recognize my obvious superiority and still keep my intelligence intact.

There are people who are proud of the fact that they stand up for their cause by tearing apart everything around them. Historically, they have been called ignorant, traitors, fools and backward thinking. They will be again.

I offer no malice to them whatsoever. But I also refuse to join their mob.

I plan on doing no abscising.  I am walking around my country with a needle and thread, looking for ways to repair the breach.