Are You Saved?

 A few days ago I received an envelope in my snail mail (remember "snail mail?") from my longtime friend and former school classmate.

We've known each other since first grade (that's 1947 for you young folk).  In high school we were marching bandmates. He the bass drum and me the sousaphone (not tuba, that's a different instrument).

Me with my Sousaphone instrument after a football game 1958 at a home game at my high school in Downingtown, PA

Even though we were classmates from the first grade through the ninth grade, we didn't become close friends until tenth grade when we were both marching band members. We would take turns saving a seat for each other on the band bus because we were always the last on the bus. Band members loaded their instruments in the bottom compartments on the band bus.

That's me on the left with my fellow Sousaphone players Dominic, Dick and Allen. Some of the bet times of my life folks!

Since our instruments were the largest, we always loaded our instruments last. Those  three years of marching band and the away games are some of my fondest memories of high school, especially since our high school was a winning team.

A picture I took on Thanksgiving Day 1958 of our home game with our biggest rival Coatesville. I splurged and got a roll of color film, which was quite expensive in that day. I just wish I had someone take a picture of me but I was so shy that I wouldn't ask anyone. At least I have a roll of these pictures. During the football games we band members would be on the sidelines. So much fun! Great memories especially when your team wins! Memories I will never forget!

After high school we continued our friendship. He went to college, I went into the Army. We corresponded and when I came home on leave we sometimes got together. One year I even brought an Army buddy with me and we spent a weekend at his family's cottage on the Chesapeak Bay.

However, over the years we eventually drifted apart. Then we came together at our 35th class reunion. By this time he was married with two children. We became close friends again. And from that time on our friendship has continued. 

I liked him for many reasons and in fact during our high school friendship I had the hots for him. Of course I never told him that. This was the Terrible Fifties, remember that. Class of 1959, we were the last class of the Fifties. Very repressive times. I, as a gay man, way illegal. However, at the reunion, I was no longer attracted. Maybe it was because he was fat and bald now or maybe my taste changed because my horizons broadened. But this is another avenue which I'm not going down now. What I did continue to like about him was his dry wit and sardonic sense of humor. We just clicked. Except for one thing, he's an evangelical.  Yes, one of those who feel their mission is to save my soul.

As regular followers of my blog know, I was brought up in the Baptist Church. I went to Sunday school. I even have a certificate (which I still have) for perfect attendance when I was eight years old. I enjoyed church. But then came a time where I fell away from the Christian church. One of my favorite aunts took me with her to her church which was a Pentecostal church. I'm a naturally curious person so when the church pastor (preacher?) came time to deliver his sermon I was all ears. I noticed right away he wasn't smiling. He looked angry. Then he began his sermon, if  you can call it that. By the time he was done he was literally foaming at his mouth (white foam around his lips), red faced and sweat beads on his forehead. The only thing I distinctly remember about his sermon was him saying "You're all sinners! You'll be a sinner all your life! You're die a sinner!" This then ten years old was in shock. I was stunned. Heretofore the church I went to was gentle and loving. I was taught all the Christian principals of "love thy enemy", "turn the other cheek", "help the poor", and all the other Christian principals that today's Trump loving evangelical "Christians" don't practice. The main takeaway I got was no hope for me. I knew I was different (gay) by the time I was ten years old. After hearing that hateful sermon I thought "What's the use?" This hateful, insecure God who needs constant praise (going to church to praise God), and who is ready to smite anyone who dares not praise him and "accept" his son (Jesus) as their savior is a sinner. I was born a sinner? Give me a break! I had nothing to do with it.  From that moment on I fell away from the church. I stopped going to Sunday school. I was a sinner so what was the point? 

Since then I've been to different churches, usually with friends. I've even been in a Catholic Church, Pat is Catholic and goes to church almost every Sunday. In fact Pat spent seven years in a seminary. My very good friend Don has for years taken care of his church in center city Philadelphia. My late brother John as a Bob Jones trained evangelical pastor in Greenville South Carolina. Even though I continued to feel the sense of comfort in those buildings with the lemon wood polish smell of the wooden pews, I knew I would never join that cult. I've even been to a Quaker service (for a deceased classmate of mine). My maternal ancestors were Pennsylvania Quakers. Ironically I felt most comfortable in the Quaker meeting house, stark as it was in ambiance (no polished wooden pews and stained glass windows). At a Quaker service no one is screaming at you "You're a sinner!!!!!" But I always knew in my heart that organized or "man-made religion was not for me. Especially as a gay man where I'm even considered the lowest of the low.  

So what am I getting at here with this blog post? My longtime friend, my "Christian" friend, in his arrogance and hubris sends to me again (he's done it before) a booklet stating it's not too late to save my soul. He lied and said "Bill accepted Jesus Christ as his savior". That was a lie I know it because Bill and I often talked about how we both fell away from organized "man made" religion. This man made religion left both of us down. We both early on realized organized religion wasn't for us. I know that organized religion provides comfort for many and that's fine. I don't scream at them "You're wrong!" If that's what gives them comfort, wonderful. Go for it. But keep your religion to yourself. Don't try and "save" me. Mind your own business.

At one time I tried to discuss the inconsistencies of the evangelical argument. I asked my friend "What happens to the little old lady who lives alone in her house and has done good all her life? Does she go to Heaven when she dies?" My friend said "No, not unless she accepts Jesus Christ as her Savior." Uh, okay. Then I asked about the serial killer Ted Bundy who "accepted" Jesus Christ while he was laying on his prison gurner shortly before he was executed for his horrendous crimes. My friend said "Yes, as long as he accept Jesus Christ as his Savior." You know what I say to that? This is bullshit! I also asked him about the billion or more people in the world who practice different religions, "Would they be accepted in the Kingdom of Heaven?" He again said "No, not unless they accept Jesus Christ as their Savior". Yeah, right. This is a guy who voted for Trump....twice. Bullshit.

I have a pretty good idea of what will happen when I die. My soul, that energy force that has been dwelling in this body of mine for the past eighty-three years, will leave my human form and be one with the cosmos. I look up at the sky at night and I see all those stars. That's where I'll be, reunited with Bill. In fact Bill came by again last night to let me know he's still with me by way of that burned out Christmas light I've talked about before in previous blog posts. Yesterday, after I accidentally came across a video of Bill right after he retuned home from the rehab unit and I spent the next three years caring for him, I was in pretty bad shape feeling sorry for myself. I miss Bill so much that sometimes I don't want to go on alone. Pat provides comfort but Bill and I had a special relationship. Bill needed me and I needed Bill. Pat is fine by himself. He can take care of himself. Bill and I needed each other. 

When I die, I will be reunited with Bill's soul. This I know and no pamphlet sent through the mail by a friend is going to change my mind. I know my friend thinks he is doing good by trying to "save" me but what he is really doing is what that long ago Pentecostal preacher did to me. He's yelling at me "You're a sinner and you're going to hell unless you spend the rest of your life praising this insecure God of mine or else he will damn you to Hell for eternity!"

What's the deal with his God anyway who needs all this praise all the time? Know where that comes from, feudal medieval England. The "lords" maintain control over the peasants by promise of a heavenly afterlife as long as they praised them thus the use of the world "The Lord" all the time in evangelical religion. See the parallel with Trump and his brain dead followers? Trump is "the Lord", chosen by God to "save" us. The Orange Jesus. 

Man made religion is all a con job in my opinion. If that's  your thing but don't put your crap on me. 

Again, the arrogance and hubris, that's the problem with man made religion. And that goes for all the man-made religions including Islam. But you see how magnanimous I am? If your religious practices give you comfort, go for it. But leave me alone.

I'm a spiritualist. That's my belief. Don't pray for me. Pray for yourself. 

Pray All You Want

Xunzi
Born 313 BC - Died 238 BC

Pray all you want-heaven can’t hear you. It’s not going to stop the winter because you are cold, and it’s not going to make the eartgh smaller because you don’t want to walk so far. You pray for rain and it rains, but your prayer has nothing to do with it. Sometimes you don’t pray and it rains anyway. What do you say then? If you act wisely, good things tend to happen. Act like a fool and bad things tend to happen. Don’t thank or curse heaven-it’s just the natural result of your own actions. If you want to have a better life, educate yourself and think carefully about the consequences of your actions.”

- Xun Zi 312230 BCE

My friend and fellow blogger "Sassy Bear" (a pseudonym for sure) at "Idle Eyes and a Dormy" posted this quote on his blog February 9th, 2015.  

If I wanted to capsulize my beliefs in one concise paragraph, this quote from the Chinese Confucian philosopher is exactly my view on life.  Xunzi believed man's inborn tendencies need to be curbed through education and ritual, counter to another Chinese philosopher Mencius's view that man is innately good. 

I understand and do not condemn people who sincerely believe in prayer.  Prayer gives them comfort.  I've been even known to pray myself (foxhole situations).  But one thing I have learned throughout my life is that most people are in a situation because of their own actions, either direct or indirect.  

To cite some examples, within the last few years two men I've known died of liver cancer.  Is it a coincidence that they drank every day?  My father died of lung cancer at 80 years old. He smoked every day of his life.  My good friends Sal and Ron, from my Army days, died of lung cancer and liver cancer.  Both smoked and drank.  But then on the other hand, I have prostate cancer.  I don't know why I have prostate cancer, maybe it was my diet.  But none of us live forever.  

I have to be careful here not to stray too far from the subject of this blog - the ineffectiveness of prayer (other than to give one comfort) and being responsible for one's own lot in life.  

Today we have a great evil in the world, Muslim extremism terrorists.  The group ISIS is committing horrible atrocities on innocent victims.  Will prayer make ISIS disappear?  No, good people rising up (and some bad people but in a different way) will eliminate the world the scourge of ISIS the same way those good people did when Nazi Germany and the soldiers of the Japanese Empire were committing similar horrible atrocities.

Man always has had the capacity for evil and cruelty.  We are most attuned to the physical atrocities and yet there are the mental cruelties.  

I don't want to get too deep in the weeds of philosophy and I especially don't want to hit all those alarm buttons of committed religionists (mainly conservative Christians in my world), but those prayers?  They aren't going to do anything except make you feel good.  Nobody "up there" is listening.  Believe me, it's all in your head. 

Now, having said that all my life I prayed for the life I have now.  I have that life.  Did it happen because I prayed for it or did it happen because I have spent 73 years navigating the shoals of all the bad places, bad habits and bad people during my life's journey? I think so.  

Again, I mean no disrespect to those who truly believe in prayer and get comfort from it.  It is not for me to judge how anyone else lives their life unless it affects my life unless they are telling or forcing me to live the way THEY want me to. But from my view, I wholeheartedly subscribe to the last line of this long ago philosopher:

"If you want to have a better life, educate yourself and think carefully about the consequences of your actions.” 

My Belief

Stephen Hawking, (about see HERE) says "this is it."  

Stephen and I (and we're the same age, interesting coincidence) believe the same thing about life.

From my earliest consciousness (four years old), I felt like I was "returning" to this world.  From where, I do not know.  But for the past sixty-eight years I have felt like an astute observer and, of course, a participant in this thing called LIFE.  

I've often thought "Why are we here?"  Why am I here?"  

Sometimes I think I had the answer only to be dissuaded by events and people's actions.

These days of when I see evil people cutting off other people's heads and posting this inhuman act of violence on the Internet for the world to see, I again think "Why are we here?"  "Why am I here?"

These days when I see a national institution like the National Football League look the other way when they know some of their biggest money making stars are committing horrific acts of violence against their families. When they're caught (by a videotape), they circle the wagons and defend the institution first.

Oh I know some in the religious community will knee jerk spout of the "God is a mystery" talking point and the "we should have faith."  I mean no disrespect to those who truly find solace and comfort in their religion (like I do with a good movie or a good meal), but come on.  Isn't that a cop out?  "Put your hands into God's."  

So here's the deal folks.  This life?  This is it.  Try and stay out of the way of the evil doers (to quote a former president of whose name I will not speak).

Try to find a little happiness in life.  And most of all try to find someone to love and if you're really lucky you'll find someone who loves you right back and doesn't beat or kill you.

So appreciate what you have folks and "Thank God" that you're not kneeling on some windy hot desert in an orange jump suit, reading a prepared text by a Muslim murderer who his about to saw off  your head.  Even better:

"Thank you Jesus" (it's a phrase folks). 

That's my belief folks.  And again, I reiterate, I mean no disrespect to those who find comfort in their religion and practice the good aspects of their religion which is to treat others as you want to be treated (all religions have that same basic premise).  However, all too often some extremists sometimes hijack a religion for their own personal benefit (power).  

Back to our regular programming tomorrow.

Nurse reveals the top 5 regrets people make on their deathbed

Folks, this blog post of mine is from another person's blog.  Her name is Bronnie Ware.  You can click on the link to her blog below under her name.  

I'm posting her blog to my blog to share my feelings with my followers.  Some years ago I made the decision to live my life as I saw fit and not how others wanted me to live my life because they had determined that they knew better than I how to live my life.  

Of course this decision has caused not some small consternation with those of my friends and relative and even co-workers who, either through their own misguided interpretation of their religious beliefs that they felt a self-righteous need to lay on me because of my easy going persona or just because of their own arrogance that they "know better" (and you know who you are FORMER friends).  

A friend, a good friend sent me this link.  This friend is one who accepts me as I am.  No, he's not gay but he is a good friend who lives his life according to the way he has determined that is best for him.  He, like me, causes no harm to anyone other than their perceived loss of privacy (which really isn't), by living his life on his own terms.  

One thing in life that constantly amazes me is how some people feel it is their life's mission to change and control others lives.  What is it with these people?  Power? Arrogance?  Lack of self-esteem so they have to compensate by controlling others?  

That's one thing I will never understand to my dying day, some people's need to control others and define them.  As for me, I'm living my life the way I want to, harming no one, in spite of the lame arguments from those who want to control my life say I am.  And you know what folks?  I am supremely happy.  Much happier than they are.  

Here is this lady's blog posting.  She is right on. 

Bronnie Ware says; for many years I worked in palliative care. My patients were those who had gone home to die. Some incredibly special times were shared. I was with them for the last three to twelve weeks of their lives. People grow a lot when they are faced with their own mortality.

I learnt never to underestimate someone’s capacity for growth. Some changes were phenomenal. Each experienced a variety of emotions, as expected, denial, fear, anger, remorse, more denial and eventually acceptance. Every single patient found their peace before they departed though, every one of them.

When questioned about any regrets they had or anything they would do differently, common themes surfaced again and again. Here are the most common five:

1. I wish I’d had the courage to live a life true to myself, not the life others expected of me.
This was the most common regret of all. When people realize that their life is almost over and look back clearly on it, it is easy to see how many dreams have gone unfulfilled. Most people had not honored even a half of their dreams and had to die knowing that it was due to choices they had made, or not made.

It is very important to try and honor at least some of your dreams along the way. From the moment that you lose your health, it is too late. Health brings a freedom very few realize, until they no longer have it.

2. I wish I didn’t work so hard.
This came from every male patient that I nursed. They missed their children’s youth and their partner’s companionship. Women also spoke of this regret. But as most were from an older generation, many of the female patients had not been breadwinners. All of the men I nursed deeply regretted spending so much of their lives on the treadmill of a work existence.

By simplifying your lifestyle and making conscious choices along the way, it is possible to not need the income that you think you do. And by creating more space in your life, you become happier and more open to new opportunities, ones more suited to your new lifestyle.

3. I wish I’d had the courage to express my feelings.
Many people suppressed their feelings in order to keep peace with others. As a result, they settled for a mediocre existence and never became who they were truly capable of becoming. Many developed illnesses relating to the bitterness and resentment they carried as a result.

We cannot control the reactions of others. However, although people may initially react when you change the way you are by speaking honestly, in the end it raises the relationship to a whole new and healthier level. Either that or it releases the unhealthy relationship from your life. Either way, you win.

4. I wish I had stayed in touch with my friends.
Often they would not truly realize the full benefits of old friends until their dying weeks and it was not always possible to track them down. Many had become so caught up in their own lives that they had let golden friendships slip by over the years. There were many deep regrets about not giving friendships the time and effort that they deserved. Everyone misses their friends when they are dying.

It is common for anyone in a busy lifestyle to let friendships slip. But when you are faced with your approaching death, the physical details of life fall away. People do want to get their financial affairs in order if possible. But it is not money or status that holds the true importance for them. They want to get things in order more for the benefit of those they love. Usually though, they are too ill and weary to ever manage this task. It is all comes down to love and relationships in the end. That is all that remains in the final weeks, love and relationships.

5. I wish that I had let myself be happier.
This is a surprisingly common one. Many did not realise until the end that happiness is a choice. They had stayed stuck in old patterns and habits. The so-called ‘comfort’ of familiarity overflowed into their emotions, as well as their physical lives. Fear of change had them pretending to others, and to their selves, that they were content. When deep within, they longed to laugh properly and have silliness in their life again. When you are on your deathbed, what  others think of you is a long way from your mind. How wonderful to be able to let go and smile again, long before you are dying.

Life is a choice. It is YOUR life. Choose consciously, choose wisely, choose honestly. Choose happiness.

Source: This article originated from blog of author Bronnie Ware.

Based on this article, Bronnie has released a full-length book. It is a memoir of her own life and how it was transformed based on the regrets of the dying people she cared for. The book is available from her website, and major online bookstores and is called ‘The Top Five Regrets of the Dying – A Life Transformed by the Dearly Departing’.

Do I Have a Guardian Angel?

Yes, I believe I do.  

From my earliest memory, when I was about 3 1/2 years old I remember "I'm here and I'm going to do THIS (life) again."  I definitely remember I had a feeling of returning.

I don't remember exactly when it was that I realized I was not alone in my renewed Life Journey.  I do remember the comfort I felt attending summer Bible school.  I even received a certificate of perfect attendance in 1948, when I was a mere six years old.  A few years later that comfort that I felt from the church was destroyed by a hate filled rant by a Pentecostal preacher who, face red and purple with rage and foam at his mouth, screamed at his congregation at which my Aunt Peg took me one Sunday when I was twelve years old "You're all sinners!  You were born in sin, you live in sin and you will die in sin! You must repent or spend eternity in the everlasting fires of Hell!" 

At first I was confused.  I thought: 

1. "I didn't ask to be born and I didn't make a choice to be a sinner."  
2. "Why is this preacher screaming at me?"  
3. "Why does he hate me?"
4. "Does God hate me because I was born in sin?"
5. "What can I do to make this man and God stop hating me?"

Then came the coup de tat, I knew I was "different" (homosexual) and I knew I was surely damned even before I had a chance at life.

As I matured I realized that organized religion was for the great bulk of people who chose, in my opinion, the easy way for spirituality.  They didn't have to think, just follow man-made instructions on how to think and live their lives.  I don't criticize their choice but that is the way I see it.  I don't go that way.  If there is a God, he/she gave me FREE WILL (as the "religious" are so fond of quoting) and I'm using it.  Now rest assured folks, I'm being very careful here not to step on anyone's religious toes.  I know everyone has their own beliefs, and some of those who follow organized religion tend to get very defensive and huffy puffy if one of the Flock goes in a different direction but be that as it may.  I don't force my views on anyone (proselytize) nor do I appreciate anyone preaching their religious views to me.  I can take care of myself quite well, thank you.

And do you know what gets me through the days, weeks, months and years?  I know I have a guardian angel.  Of course I know the term "Guardian Angel" connotes Catholic visions of diaphanous lady visions of angels. 
 

Guardian angel for straight folks

That is not my guardian angel folks, that's for straight folks only.  I may have to subject myself to females in the medical industry but my guardian angel is all male.  And yet my male guardian angle isn't necessarily the perfect, Adonis-like, six pack abs exaggerated gay version of a angel either.  That angel is for the gay pulp fiction crowd.  My guardian angel is a regular looking male just like me.  The only difference being that He has accompanied me my whole life and is now with me as I end this term of my earthly existence.

A real guardian angel for Ron

In a few weeks I'll turn 72.  Seven and two are my favorite and lucky numbers.  They add to nine.  I was born on the 9th of November, 1941 at 9:30 a.m. on a Sunday morning.  

I always believed that I had a "presence" with me during my life.  My own personal guardian angel to help me through the challenges in my life.  At times I was pretty low but I never gave up hope because I knew, I just KNEW that I was not alone in my Journey.  

A few months ago my beliefs were confirmed.  Some have a "coming to Jesus" moment.  Some are reborn.  None of those man made events for me.  I don't need nor have ever needed anyone to tell me how to think for believe.  I've always known deep within my soul what was right for me.

Others with judge me and call me as an Unbeliever or ignorant.  But folks, I am in this shell that is called a human body and I have my own soul to live with and understand.  What I tell others who are so concerned about my soul and who say they will "pray for me" (such a condescending attitude that never fails to rile me up), I say "Take care of your own life first, I'll take care of mine."

So today, as I am about to embark on another day of living, continuing to the Final Countdown when I am no longer here on this earth to ruffle feathers, upset the egg basket, and cause consternation of those who profess to "care about me", I say that today is the happiest I've ever been in my life.  I never knew that happiness could be this wonderful.  And that is because my Guardian Angel has come into my life.  

Thoughts on Dying

On late Saturday, when I woke up from my two hour afternoon nap at 5 o'clock I had the feeling of "going down."  Ever had that feeling?  What is the feeling of "going down?"  I think you know, it's the feeling like you're going to die.  

At m age (71), when I see so many names in the obituary of the local paper with ages younger than mine.  When every year I attend my high school class reunion there are a few less members from my class of 1959.  When high school friends of mine who I am still close with are daily facing the challenges of failing health, death is something I think about more often.

Am I ready for death?  Yes, in my mind I am because I am convinced (98% anyway) that once I die either one of two things will happen:

Nothing
I will go to Heaven

I don't buy the man made religious propaganda of modern times that one has to fall on your knees every Sunday and "Praise the Lord" in order to gain entry into Heaven.  With all due respect to my friends, relatives and nice folk who read this blog who believe otherwise, I just don't believe it. Call it Free Will or whatever, but it is a theory that just doesn't make sense to me.

When my long time friend Bill B. tells me that the notorious murderer Ted Bundy will get to Heaven before I do because he "accepted Jesus Christ" before he was executed but the nice little old lady who never did anything wrong in her life will not go to Heaven because she didn't accept Jesus Christ....just doesn't make sense.  And as Judge Judy says "If it doesn't make sense, it's usually not true."  

So as I awoke from my slumber Saturday afternoon I felt like I was dying.  That's the feeling one gets when one is passing a kidney stone, you're "going down."  And if you're not going down, you WANT to go down just to end the pain.

I tried to work through it.  I walked around trying to convince myself I had gas but it just wasn't working.  I was going down, down and down.  I told Bill "I'm not feeling well."  I guess I knew I was passing another kidney stone (my 3rd) but I didn't want to believe that, especially after writing a blog entry about my ambulance trip to the hospital in 1959.  

I went into my home office and brought out a picture frame that I had purchased earlier in the day at Walmart. I took the glass out and was cleaning it when the urge to purge came up.  I ran to my bathroom and almost made it to my toilet and threw up.  Some of my tomato soup lunch got on the bathroom wall next to the toilet and some on the tile floor below (no pictures).  That did it.  I knew I was passing a kidney stone.  Damn!

I went back into the kitchen and told Bill "I'm calling 911 for an ambulance." He said "I'll drive you down."  I said "I can't do that because I'll just be sitting in the emergency room for hours and I won't last.  I'm going down fast.  I can't wait."

By the way, I wasn't talking calmly like I'm talking now.  I'm bent over and barely getting my words out, the pain was that great.  

The thought went through my mind "What if I lived way out in the country?  I would surely die if I didn't get immediate attention, or at least pain killers."  Folks, the pain make you go crazy.  I cannot emphasize how great the pain of a kidney stone is.  If our government knew how to harness this pain they would get every terrorist in Guantanamo Bay to confess to anything they wanted.  The power to inflict pain like this is a Dick Cheney dream.   But I digress.

But back to dying.  I hope when I die I don't go like the pain I experienced last Saturday when I was passing that kidney stone.  I hope I die like my cousin Randy who just died in his sleep this past March.  Randy is pictured at the top of this blog with his mother, my aunt.  Both are gone now.  Randy was six years younger than me and in good health.  He wasn't ill.  In fact, he was in better health than I am now.  So, you just never know. Randy's wife sent me a note saying that Randy had always hoped that he would die in his sleep and not like his mother, who lingered in a nursing home in the dementia unit for many years before she died at age 89.  However she said, "it was still too soon."  

None of us can predict when we die unless it is by our own hand.  However, one thing I do know, that when I die it will be a release not only from pain but from the never ending sadness I have from the sense of loss of so many of my loved ones, both relatives and friends and pets who are no longer here.  I may have gotten relief from the extreme pain of this past Saturday that was caused by my kidney stone passing but the only "relief" that I will get from the never ending pain that is always in my background now of the loss of my loved ones is the sweet release of death.  That is why I am not afraid of death itself, only how I get there.  

Me with my Mother and Father

In the meantime, while I am living I intend to make every day count.  No wasted days.  Also I will not waste my time on meaningless activity like arguing arguments that will not change anyone's minds.  Seeking friendships where there is none.  And trying to please those who nothing you do will please them ever, and not live my life according to someone else's definition of how I should live my life.  

What I will do is value, appreciate and reciprocate the friendships that I do have. I will make productive use of my time in activities that are meaningful, productive and appreciated.  What I won't do is live my life according to someone else's definition of how I should live my life.  

Me with one of my dogs who is patiently waiting for me in Heaven

An experience like I had this weekend is just another reminder of how fragile and valuable life is and how we should always treasure every day we have of good health and freedom.  And when our time has come to an end, and it surely will for everyone one us, we can go to the Great Unknown (and no one knows The Answer), with the knowledge that we have lived according to our own Truth.  If there is a Heaven, I am quite sure no one is going to be at St. Peter's Gate checking to see how many times you went to church or how many souls you saved.  Worry about your own self and let the others take care of themselves.  

If you live a life of kindness and respect towards others, those pearly gates should be open to you as well.  That's all that is needed folks for a life well lived.  

For a while this past Saturday night I was ready to go. And I can say with all honesty, I was at peace with myself and ready to go.  

More Bloggerpalooza Videos

After yesterday's horrific incident at the Boston Marathon yesterday I feel it is appropriate that I post these two short videos of our recent Bloggerpalooza event in Lewes, DE.  

Why do I make the connection between such a evil event like the bombing at the Boston Marathon and the over abundance of goodwill and camaraderie that was on display at the Bloggerpalooza?  To me these two events demonstrates the constant ying and yang of our life, the struggle between good and evil.

To my dying day I will never understand what possesses some people (and cultures) to promote and practice evil when life is so much better to promote and practice good.  I'm not a religious person (don't believe in "man-made religion") but I do thank God (or whoever is "up there" or wherever) that their appears to be more good in this life than there is evil.  

Some people make fun and dismiss me for taking so many pictures and videos of my life events.  I pay them no mind because I know that by recording these events by photo and video I am memorializing forever those times when good people got together and did good.  When good people practice love instead of hate.   That's the way I roll.

Jay of VA and Spo heading the blogger contingent up Rehoboth Avenue to Dos Locos and "The Cajun"

Nate, Cubby and "The Cajun" at Dos Locos

Someone and Cubby at Dos Locos perusing the lunch menu

Dos Locos menus aloft!  Doug of Gossamer Tapestry awaits to be waited

Our genial host "The Cajun"

Our unflappable host - "The Cajun"

Sassy Bear awaits to give his order

Sassy still deciding

How did HE get here?

Superman and Java Jones

Sassy Bear (Hot)

Sassy's Significant Other

Both of these videos were taken at the Dos Locos restaurant in Rehoboth Beach.  Our little fun group of bloggers just had our photo taken at the Old Time photo store.  Now it was time for lunch so we walked up Rehoboth Avenue and "dropped in" on another fellow blogger "The Cajun" who is the host (with the most) at the restaurant.  Of course I didn't give my friend "The Cajun" advance notice (I wouldn't want to ruin my reputation) so all thirteen of us landed on him unannounced.  I wasn't surprised at all that he handled our "drop in" with the aplomb and professionalism for which he is known for throughout the Rehoboth Beach area.  And....we all had a WONDERFUL lunch at Dos Locos.  So if any of you are in town this season, do "drop in" on "The Cajun" at Dos Locos.  The more the better!

What Happens When You Die?

Man's fanciful image of God - Michaelangelo style

I don't know.  Okay, that's my post.

Oh yes, I have more to say on this subject.  This morning, after eating breakfast and bushing my teeth, I positioned myself before my iMac 17 inch big screen computer, all revved up to finish posting all my Lewes Presbyterian Cemetery photos to Find a Grave.com.  

I click on the Find a Grave icon on my toolbar.  Nothing.  I click again.  Again, nothing.  Okay.  Next step.  I reboot my computer.  Maybe I have to clear out my cache (look it up).  Then I click on F.A.G. grave icon again.  Still nothing.  

Then I search the Internet to see if Find a Grave's website has crashed.  Nothing except complaints about Find a Grave and all the "drama" (whatever that is).  

So here is my backup activity plan for this morning.  I'll write a blog post about what happens when you die?  I don't know.

Perhaps I should expand.  What I am pretty sure of is that when we die we don't ascent to Heaven on giant white feathered bird wings, dressed in a gossamer white nightgown to meet God sitting on a gold throne int he clouds.  You all know God don't you?  He looks like Charlton Heston (in his Moses "Ten Commandments Days", not in his Right Wing, "pry my cold dead hands from this gun"  days).  God, a white haired and bearded old man dressed in a white over one shoulder toga which displays his massive triceps, THAT GOD.  Oh no,  you're not going to meet HIM.  

Here is what I THINK happens.  NOTHING.  Yep, a BIG NOTHING.  Just a big deep VOID.

Oh sure, I'm all for folks having a "belief" (aka "faith") in what happens.  If that what makes you comfortable and able to get through life, then I'm all for it.  I'm not one nor have I ever been to foist my beliefs on someone else unlike many others of "the faith", whatever religion.  I've always said "If that is what works for you, then go for it!"  But by the same token don't get all sanctimonious and issue your "I'll pray for you" condescending remarks to me.

Joan of Arc being burned at the stake because she didn't Believe

I imagine death to be like the time I was given anesthesia to knock me out before having a colonoscopy last year.  Actually, that was quite a trip.  I don't even remember going out nor do I remember waking up.  Sort of nice actually.

To me the worst part about death is getting there, not actually when you die.  Dying is the release from our bodily form. This overcoat our spirit inhabits while we're on this earth.

I remember the first time I saw a dead person, in person.  It was at my Uncle John Tipton's funeral. My Uncle John died in 1962 from burns he suffered from getting his coverall pants on fire from spilled turpentine and a carelessly discarded cigarette butt.  Ironically he had survived World War II in spite of being captured by the Germans and held as a prisoner of war.  Uncle John as a paratrooper who was captured behind enemy lines in Holland.  He escaped twice from the German prisoner of war camp only to be recaptured twice.  Uncle John survived World War II but didn't survive a cigarette butt.

John Hannum Tipton 1922 - 1961

I was in the Army at the time of his death and called home to be a pall bearer at his funeral.  I remember going past his open casket and looking at my 39 year old uncle, who was so vibrant and full of life the last time I saw him.  I looked at his body and realized I was looking at a shell.  He wasn't "there" anymore.  His body in that open casket could just as well have been an overcoat with his name on it.  

Since that funeral I have seen other dead bodies at funerals, including my Mother and father.  I've always had the same reaction...there weren't "there" anymore.  I had no feeling at all for their shell.  They were gone.  Only their memory will stay alive.  And what keeps their memory alive is a memorial that the family leaves behind.  Thus that is why I believe in funerals, cemeteries, headstones and any other kind of memorial. 

So where does the essence of that person go when they die?  Again, I don't know but the only thing that makes sense to me is that the "essence" is dispersed throughout the universe.  We are not somehow magically transported in our bodily form or spiritual form with our memories intact to another place.  Just doesn't make sense, faith of not.  

So to all of you who have the faith, more power to you.  I'm happy for you that you have that comfort and don't have to think about what really happens when you die which is nothing.  

Now for those of you who doubt me, I can only say one thing.  Prove it to me.  As far as I know God and Jesus only talks to people like Pat Robertson and the Pope.  He doesn't talk to regular folk like me. 

Does He talk to you?  Tell me about it.