Classless

Classless: (adj) having no class

If beauty is in the eye of the beholder, then kindness may only dwell in the mind of God.

We seem to have an excuse for every occasion when we resort to crude behavior. At least I do. (Forgive me for speaking for you.)

Being rude is usually a by-product of a reaction which comes quickly. We just don’t train ourselves enough before going out in public.

Oh, yes–we must practice our humanity. It is needful for us to envision scenarios when we are offended, shut out of the moment, so we can have some idea what is going to pour forth from our personality.

We should be saying “I’m sorry” a whole lot less because we have taken into consideration the possibility of affrontation.

For after all, some of our fellow-travelers do not feel powerful unless we are weakened.

They don’t sense their value unless everyone around them has been put in the bargain bin.

And they don’t wish to be nice because they view it as a definable weakness.

If you don’t practice class, you will be classless. If you hang around with folks who insist that you don’t need to say, “Thank you” or “I appreciate that,” it’s only because they plan on starving you from that warmth coming from them.

My family often thinks I am silly, because in the process of any given evening, I may say, “thank you” a hundred and twenty times. As you consider how excessive that may be, I am musing over how I could do it more.

When I do something good, I make sure I enjoy it thoroughly, because stumbling around waiting for others to express their admiration is a formula for deep depression.

We are a classless society simply because we are waiting for someone else to start it up, and no one has taken the time to put the fuel in their engine to accelerate toward tenderness.

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Cabbage

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Cabbage: (n) a cultivated plant eaten as a vegetable,

Cabbage, while cooking, smells like farts.

Since this is true, one should not be surprised that consuming such a concoction should continue the fart-smelling process all the way through your body. Matter of fact, your house will smell like farts for days after cooking and digesting cabbage.

Another insight: cabbage is one of those vegetables that only tastes good if it’s cooked to a certain level of tenderness–or if the head has a slight sweetness to it.

How are you supposed to find that out?

I suppose you could break off a little piece in the grocery store and chew on the raw leaf. I’m not going to do that.

And so, because it is difficult to prepare, quickly becomes mushy, and the more it’s overcooked the more bitter it tastes, it’s just best to wait until some professional cooks it for you.

Otherwise, you will have fart smell in your house, fart smell in your body, and wonder if it was worth it in the first place.

 

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Brace

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Brace: (v) to get ready for something difficult or unpleasant

“I’m not alone.”

This statement is the essence of human sanity.

Being alone makes us lonely.

Lonely causes us to think we’re insignificant.Dictionary B

A feeling of insignificance makes us believe our contribution is meaningless.

I am not meaningless.

But I must understand that common sense, compassion, tenderness, fellowship and faith are often isolated on islands, separated from the mainland by cynical thinking.

Brace yourself.

  • You need to be prepared to be considered an outsider if you’re going to bring anything of value inside.

Brace yourself.

  • People are not going to naturally be kind, but instead, are motivated in a mob mentality, to pursue such wisdom.

Brace yourself.

  • What is passed off as logic is often, within a few short months, considered to be harmful and rejected for its ridiculous premise.

Brace yourself.

  • Look for things that are everlasting, and pursue them with vigor.

Brace yourself.

  • If you aren’t considered a little weird, then there’s no reason for you to be in the game.

Brace yourself.

  • Loving your neighbor may be considered to be unnecessary, irrelevant and unrealistic.

It is time for people who do not view themselves as good, but who desire to pursue good … to do good things.

 

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Beside

Beside: (prep) at the side of; next to.

Dictionary B

It took six-and-a-half days to build up the courage to ask.

I was only fifteen years old, and although I was very interested in girls, they terrified me.

So I finally mustered the courage to ask young Judy to go on a date. Well…not exactly.

First of all, I had no car, no money and no ideas on where to go. So more or less, it was a verbal scouting expedition, to see if she would be willing to go out with me if I actually had been capable of pulling it off.

After many gulps, delays and conversational dead-end streets, I finally choked out my request–and lo and behold, she said yes.

So I decided to have my mother drive us to a nearby town where they had a movie theater and drop us off in the shopping area, to pick us up four hours later. We started walking around, and it became obvious that Judy was unable, or unwilling, to stay beside me.

She either walked a little ahead or stayed a little behind.

So when I slowed up for her to catch up, she passed by me, and I had to catch up with her. At no point did I feel that we ever connected. Even when we went into the movie theater, she tried to sit one seat away.

I thought it was due to the fact that she was timid–but at the end of our little excursion I learned the truth.

After grilling her for about fifteen minutes, she finally came out with the information that she only said yes to the date because she didn’t know how to say no. But when we got to the little town and started exploring, she realized that the boy she really liked was nearby, walking around, and even went to the same movie. She didn’t want to discourage him by making him think that she was beside me.

Ouch.

And I mean, double ouch.

I learned that night, though, that the way we communicate tenderness and true interest in one another is not by leading nor by following.

It’s by staying solidly beside one another.

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Beatific

Beatific: (adj) blissfully happy; imparting holy bliss.Dictionary B

He probably smelled like sweat, grain and farts.

I’m talking about Jesus.

Since he was always on the move in an arid climate and there were no ways to prevent body odor, he reeked.

There was also no halo around his head to let you know that he was special, divine or even beatific.

  • What you had was an encounter.
  • What you possessed was your sense of wonder.
  • And what you had to decide for yourself was whether what you heard could contradict what you were seeing and smelling.

I supposed it would be easier if angels came with a glow. But actually, angels just come with truth. And even though the truth makes us free, we are not always in a hurry to discover our freedom, but are literally captivated by our error.

What tells us that the experience in front of us has eternal possibilities?

How can we know that we’re in the presence of greatness?

And how can we allow words and ideas which may seem contradictory to our training to come and soothe us with mercy and tenderness?

I don’t know the answer.

It is the way of mankind to ignore true value in favor of cheap exchange.

But we can take hope in the notion that beauty can often be identified by the presence of genuine humility.

 

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Barbecue

Barbecue: (v) to cook meat, fish, or other food on a barbecue.Dictionary B

Annoying.

What is the definition of annoying? Annoying is anything that makes me grouchy instead of allowing me to enjoy the pleasure that was intended for the moment.

  • Barbecues are annoying.
  • Barbecuing, even more annoying.
  • Those who barbecue–annoying most of all.

Am I the only person who wants somebody to fix me a steak, put it on a plate and let me eat it instead of having to listen to the evolution of the whole process or hear the cook explain the tedious measures necessary to garner just the right sauce and tenderness for the meat?

There is more discussion of food at a barbecue than there is unabated joy in devouring it.

And God forbid that you should find yourself standing at the grill next to the Master Chef. By the time you get done listening to a recitation of recipes, mystery ingredients and correct temperatures for the best flavor, you will want to run from the premises and go out and eat a salad.

That’s how serious it is.

Everybody thinks they are an expert on almost everything–but most people eventually admit some weakness.

But not barbecuers.

They are the best, or nothing at all.

That’s why they make silly hats and aprons for the process, as a uniform to go along with the insanity.

So when I find myself invited to one of these escapades, I sit at the furthest table until I am sure that the food is thoroughly cooked, and then, when most people are being bored by the giver of the feast with a lecture on charcoal, I slip in, steal my portion from the platters, and run into the woods to eat … like a scalded bear.

 

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Anorexia

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Anorexia: (n) a loss of appetite for food which becomes a medical condition.

I am ill-suited to speak on this subject, similar to a cannibal discussing recipes with Martha Stewart.

I have never abstained from food. I don’t over-eat–it’s just that the idea of food is very pleasant to me, even though sometimes in the middle of chewing it, I realize that I’m getting little pleasure and positive reinforcement out of an experience that has the ability to levy great difficulty to my well-being.

I don’t know what causes anorexia. I’ve read about it. I’ve talked to people who suffer under the condition.

Matter of fact, there are times that I feel embarrassed to be in the presence of someone afflicted with the condition, because my heft might accidentally confirm their fears just through my visuals.

Unlike the anorexic, I am always looking for a mirror that favors me rather than one that points out a little “dab of flab.” I am always justifying the calorie count on some food I desire, to make it seem that it is either healthy or within the spectrum for acceptable consumption.

But I do know this–I do not grow impatient with those who find themselves oppressed by this mindset.

Because I have been around individuals who cannot fathom why I don’t “just eat less” or do something to lose weight, I understand that intolerance is unbearable. It makes me want to run and smooch with the nearest bratwurst.

Even though we do not have the cure for all diseases, and do not comprehend the whys and wherefores of every human foible, we can have the first fruits of compassion.

Anorexia is difficult for me because I find the gaunt boniness frightening and anti-human. But I must realize that the anorexic finds my obesity equally as obtuse and ugly.

Perhaps that’s the secret: to refuse to allow oneself the oversimplification of believing that what one thinks is really the truth … but always allowing for love and tenderness to surpass mere reasoning.

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