Tag Archives: metal

Dammed

Dammed: (adj) restricted

 The directions were simple, clear and accurate.

A friend of mine invited me to join him for lunch at the cafeteria of the prison where he was employed as a chaplain.

This particular penal institution had a back gate where the employees entered, with an electric fence which was turned on during the day and also at night, after the employees had already arrived or departed.

I was coming at a time when the fence was normally turned on, so my friend told me he would make sure it was disengaged for my entrance at 11:15 A. M.

The explanation seemed simple enough, the plan sound.

But when I parked my car and headed toward the gate, it occurred to me that if my buddy happened to forget to turn off the fence—maybe because he got involved in a conversation or was just absent-minded—I might be walking up to a barrier that could hurt me.

Yes, the obstacle before me could leave me dammed. By that I mean, blocking my way to where I wanted to go.

Still, I had an instinct to just trust Reverend Ted. Yet that optimism quickly dissipated when all the rest of the inclinations from my body screamed out in disapproval.

What if honest Reverend Ted, on this day, was somehow or another transformed into Dopey Ted?

So for nearly five minutes I just stood and stared at the fence, trying to discern if it was “lit up.”

There was no obvious answer.

Thinking it might be wise to touch it with something other than my hand, I reached down in a clump of grass nearby, pulled up a stick and nervously threw it toward the fence. It hit and bounced off without any buzzes, whistles or sparks.

Temporarily reassured, I stepped forward to enter, when memories of my chemistry class reminded me that wood, as you find in a tree limb, is not a good conductor of electricity.

Matter of fact, “wood” would be classified as wouldn’t.

So I looked around for something else to use to bolster my confidence that my friend had actually turned off the fence.

I came up with nothing—except my car keys.

Now once again, my chemistry training kicked in and reminded me that car keys are metal and would certainly let me know if there was an electrical current running through the obstacle that dammed me.

Unfortunately, unless I planned on standing back five feet and throwing them at the fence, I would be in danger if I was holding them when I did my test.

Of course, throwing them was ridiculous.

But not so ridiculous that I didn’t end up trying it.

So standing about seven feet away, I threw my metal keys and metal key ring at the fence. Unfortunately, they were small enough that they passed through the hole of the chain links and fell on the other side.

Just then, my friend walked hurriedly toward the scene, staring down at my keys, now at his feet.

“What in the hell are you doing?” he asked.

I paused.

Should I tell him the truth?

Should I share my apprehension, if not complete doubt, over his memory?

But before I even knew what I was saying, and certainly never consulting my better senses, I responded, “Sorry, man. I tripped and my keys fell out of my hand into the air.”

He frowned and stared at me like I was a crazy man he had once had as a friend.

He picked up my keys, walked over to the gate and opened it. I quickly scooted forward and scurried through the opening.

“You’re so weird,” he said.

I had no reason to disagree with him.

It seemed a very appropriate, metered assessment of what he had just experienced.

Anvil

dictionary with letter A

Anvil: (n) a heavy steel or iron block with a flat top and concave sides, and typically a pointed end on which metals can be hammered and shaped.

I took a long moment to think this one through.

I like things that make me think because thinking is admitting that you don’t know and you aren’t afraid to learn if any information is actually available.

Here’s what I came up with:

You’ve got one big piece of metal in your hand in the shape of a hammer that’s hitting another piece of metal really hard to put it in shape, while a very sturdy piece of metal beneath it withstands the blows and remains firm so as not to inhibit the shaping of the object.

They’re all metal.

Some of them just have to be stronger than the others to sustain the pressure.

I know that appears to be too philosophical, but if you pause for a moment, it really isn’t. It’s just practical.

For a brief season, we have children who are brought into this world and must be molded, guided and shaped into human beings. I must warn you, they do not arrive human, but rather, as self-centered, egotistical, overly intelligent little monkeys who need to be removed from their jungle environment and taught the ways of true humanity.

There’s a lot of debate today on whether there’s some hitting and beating needed in that process.

Let us agree on the following four points:

1. There are moments in raising a child when you are well prepared to kill them, and if you got the right jury, who had also parented, you might get off for time served.

2. Since the sensation is common to us all, what sets us apart from those who end up damaging their children instead of helping them is what we might call “holy restraint.”

3. Holy restraint is not achieved without pursuing something holy. To do that means you need to invest your brain more than your brawn. The advantage we have over children is that they’re just not as smart as we are yet. And the second advantage is that we control the macaroni and cheese.

4. A child who learns is like a piece of steel that is squeezed between the hammer and the anvil. Since both of them are stronger, he or she will eventually find a reason to comply.

Now, I realize the analogy doesn’t work well because the hammer actually hits the steel against the anvil. But since our children are made of flesh and blood instead of iron and alloys, it might be a good idea to adjust the strength projected to the object addressed.

As flesh and blood, they need wisdom and guidance from people who know how to outsmart them.

Parenting is more about trickery than it ever is … about spanking.

 

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Thank you for enjoying Words from Dic(tionary) —  J.R. Practix

Alloy

Words from Dic(tionary)

dictionary with letter A

Alloy: (n) a metal made by combining two or more metallic elements, usually to give greater strength or resistance to corrosion

Since I don’t know anything about metal, I will refrain from trying to come off as someone who just read a short Wikipedia explanation in order to espouse expertise.

Let me instead use the word “alloy” to suggest the melding of two great ideas–which, when smelted, create a bond which is difficult to break.

The first idea is “No one is better than anyone else.”

Every culture which has ignored this principle, or set it aside to temporarily gain the approval of the majority, has found itself flailing, devoid of purpose and alienating the very citizens who could have brought about progress.

The second idea we would like to bind into this mixture is, “Be fruitful and multiply; replenish the earth.”

Can you imagine what would happen if we set these two ideas into motion–to collide in a unity of purpose to become the backbone of our culture?

No one is better than anyone else–and because we hold that truth to be self-evident, we encourage you to be fruitful, expansive, creative and bring about the multiplication of new energy, instead of dividing us into little sects and groups, so that we can replenish the earth instead of robbing it of all of its resources.

The day we understand that equality and creativity are not conservative and liberal concepts, but rather, issues of survival, will be when we wake up and become intelligent enough to be worthy of the brain space we have been granted.

What a great alloy.

Even though each one is individually a strong concept, when united, they give us the sniff of humanity and the power of our convictions instead of rendering us … hapless, over-evolved gorillas.