Coulter: (n) a surname

I have made it a practice to never insert someone’s real name into one of my essays or articles. Whatever that person and I chose to do in our adult moments of living shouldn’t be regaled for all the world to read. At least I owe them that.funny wisdom on words that begin with a C

But I could not help myself when I rolled across the name Coulter, and realized that a very dear friend by that name once strolled into my life and took me from a status of nearly homeless to a position in which my music and art was given the chance to be considered as viable.

Coulter was my friend. He was part of a music group I joined, and in no time at all they had me singing his vocal parts. Rather than being angry or jealous, Coulter was appreciative and supportive.

He tried many things. Coulter’s problem was that he was good at everything he attempted.

For instance, he started working at a doughnut shop and within two months, they made him manager. (I benefited from that experience, because my wife and I were without an actual place to sleep at night, nor regular food.) Coulter always provided a big box of day-old doughnuts, which he set outside the back door of the establishment with his blessing)

He always believed that underneath my neediness—and sometimes grubbiness—there was someone worthy to be heard. Eventually, because of his love of the entertainment business, he started his own agency to book acts. Completely in line with his employment history, in no time at all he had a stable of artists and was scheduling them into everything from conventions to churches to county fairs.

He helped our fledgling group along, throwing us work every now and then, and when I wrote my first musical theater piece, he became so excited that he found ten investors, who gave a thousand dollars each to fund the effort.

He not only helped me put together the cast for the production, but also got on the phone and scheduled dates in twenty-five cities around the country, so we could go and perform it.

He was so enthralled with the music from the play that he wanted to promote to large publishing concerns. All he needed from me were lead sheets and chord charts. Unfortunately, my technical knowledge of music was limited, and I ended up handing him materials which were pitiful and comical at the same time.

But he never held it against me. He never became enraged or upset about anything.

Even when we were in the midst of promoting our musical play, and a minister who believed he possessed both the knowledge of God’s will and the right to judge others who didn’t understand, attacked Coulter because he heard rumors that my friend was a homosexual (that’s back when they were homosexuals instead of gay) Coulter refused to retaliate.

Even though I was a stupid kid with a gnat’s worth of sense, I defended him and stood up against the Pharisee. It’s one of the better things I ever did in my life.

I don’t know where Coulter is today—or even if he is today.

But wherever he may be, I want him to know that his good buddy turned out okay—due in large part to a friend who arrived in the early days with a box of doughnut—just at the right time.

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Congestion: (adj) a condition of the respiratory tract being blocked with mucus

Trials would never get the chance to be tribulations if we were granted the privilege of planning them instead of being surprised by their arrival.

Honestly, I think I could survive almost anything if I could pencil it in on my calendar in advance, and then build all my activities around funny wisdom on words that begin with a C
preparing for it.

This is the ridiculous part about those who believe in destiny.

Life is clear–it favors chaos. If we actually believe there’s a Divine Order, we logically must conclude that this God-force is schizophrenic.

I had one moment in my life when I wish I had been given the opportunity to select the time slot for my cold.

I would have chosen one week later to be congested–and gladly swallowed the nasty concoctions that are supposed to make me feel better, but actually only cause drowsiness.

My congestion arrived a week early.

My new book had been released, and I was supposed to speak to a large crowd of people, using the event as a launch for my campaign. My bronchitis, croup and laryngitis arrived when I was appearing in a large auditorium, premiering my new album.

I ran what I called the gamut of five:

  • I prayed
  • I sprayed (everything I could think of, to open up my throat)
  • I complained
  • I tried every home remedy known to humans.
  • And finally, I foolishly went to my events–with no voice.

Well, you can imagine, it went just about as well as it sounds like it would go. The congestion was in control.

Should I have just cancelled instead of giving it the “good old college try?”

I don’t know. My experience is that the “good old college try” often leaves you flunking out in disgrace.


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

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Words from Dic(tionary)

dictionary with letter AAffair: (n) (1) an event or sequence of events of a specified kind: e.g. the board admitted responsibility for the affair. (2) a love affair: e.g. his wife is having an affair.

There are three human emotions that collide to form what we shall call pleasure.

  • Excitement
  • Uncertainty
  • And a bit of danger

I will say that people who become involved in affairs are merely attempting to bring that trio of experiences back into their lives, since the humdrum and mundane is suffocating them.

Over the years, I’ve had the opportunity to counsel people who have come through the ordeal of one or the other of them having an affair, trying to restore the relationship. Most of those conversations revolved around guilt and resentment. Let me tell you–there is nothing that is more of a turn-off to the human spirit than guilt and resentment. So in a voracious attempt to restore normalcy and intimacy, people forget what caused the problem in the first place: lack of excitement, absence of uncertainty and removal of a little danger.

We just expect sex to do too much. After all, it is really only fleshly friction brought about by stimulation in the brain. If the gray matter is excited, uncertain and feels a little danger, it takes care of all the foreplay and places us on an erotic journey.

What eliminates that sensation is guilt and resentment.

So in the process of trying to overcome an affair, the three main questions that are frequently asked end up being counterproductive to solving the dilemma.

  1. Why did you do it?
  2. How could you have done this to me?
  3. 3. How do you expect me to forget this?

If the perpetrator could be honest, he or she would say, “I got excited, I was intrigued by the uncertainty and I was tempted by the danger.”

After that, it was all making arrangements and mechanics.

In many ways I think we put too much emphasis on human sexuality, and in other ways our lack of understanding of what stimulates it renders us silly, if not insipid.

Here’s the truth: if your brain is not being stimulated at four o’clock in the afternoon by intelligent conversation, flirting and admiration of your lover, don’t expect any “skyrockets in flight” at ten o’clock that evening.

And if you happen to work with someone who excites you, generates uncertainty and danger, don’t be shocked if you’re grabbed by the nose hairs and pulled toward unfaithfulness.

The best counsel I ever gave people was to let them know that the affair was not due to an absence in their relationship, but a presence that appeared, bringing excitement, uncertainty and a bit of danger, which had dissipated from their experience.

We are people who need to be excited, feel some uncertainty and tingle with a bit of danger.

Without this, we start trying to schedule our sexual escapades on a calendar … right next to “Buy Groceries.”