WEDNESDAY THOUGHTS: HOW DID YOU...?

You can be, or do whatever you want. 

You don't need a hook up. Just be it; do it, and concentrate on doing it well. 

Someone will notice. 

Wanna sing? Sing. Join a choir. Go to karaoke. 

Wanna play an instrument? Play. Find an "open mike night"; a class. Form a band. 

You don't have to pay to play, become a beggar, or overuse/ misuse the word "support". 

There are so many venues and lots of how-to books. You don't have to fall for the schemes and scams of people who can detect the scent of "desperation to be a star" a mile away, and have no problem using your ambition for their benefit. They call it "exposure". Look closer. It's slavery. 

Unfortunately, what a lot of people want, is not guidance or direction, training or education, experience or respect. There's no interest in excellence. What is really desired, are the keys to instant notoriety. It's not about love of the Arts at all. They want to blow up; be famous; get rich; be endorsed. 

They spy glitter in the lives of others, think it's gold, and get stupid. They assume others have answers and can open doors. 

They concentrate more on looking the part, than producing a pleasing product. They're too familiar, run their mouths, and forget that people (across genres) know each other and confer regularly. What good is it to have your name on everyone's lips if the conversation is less than complimentary? 

Be careful how you measure success, and who you choose as an actual or dream mentor. Stop scheming. Check your demeanor. 

Would anyone want to recommend or work with you, or are your impressive skills washed away by the tsunami that is your funky attitude? 

Remember, social networking posts are the new resumes. Bring the cuckoo krazy down a notch. 

What are you looking for? Only burglars try to get in/ break in, and even they are shocked and disappointed when they gain access, and find emptiness, or nothing of value. 

Don't neglect what's really important. 

 Rid yourself of unfounded jealousy and insecurity. Genuinely applaud others, and stop viewing everyone as competition. 

Stop expecting people to say it's good, when it isn't. 

Stop bullying people to listen to junk, and whining about who won't share it, or promote you. 

What? Is God asleep? Or could it be that "God did it." is the last answer you want to hear, when inquiring how someone else "made it"? 

Perhaps that's the problem. 

Trying to keep God out of His business—YOU— is a mistake.

TUESDAY THOUGHTS: SO LONG, ANDY...

When I was a little girl, "The Andy Griffith Show" faithfully followed "I Love Lucy" in the daily morning programming lineup. 

It was a favorite then, and still is. 

I own a copy of  "The Andy Griffith Show Book", and episodes on VHS and DVD. 

I think it, and other shows produced for television in the late 50's and 60's are leaps and bounds better than some of the comedic fare on television today. The writing and improvisation on the Andy Griffith Show was excellent. 

Props, and some dialogue remind you it wasn't filmed yesterday, but the content isn’t dated. It's not corny or painful to watch. The laughs are guaranteed--just as hearty as the first time--and sometimes, you just need a good laugh.

I saw the headline today, and was saddened. 

I didn't know Mr. Griffith. Never met him, but it sure did seem as if he was an old friend, or everybody's play uncle or grandfather--the kind you wish would always be around spewing wisdom, righting wrongs, teaching values, being an example, quashing drama, keeping order, breaking into song, and spreading kindness. 

Technology is making sure we won't forget him. For his family and friends, however, it's a different situation altogether, and my heart goes out to them.

A friend was so glad there was someone else who felt the way she did. "I thought I was the only one. I mean, he's been a part of the fabric of our lives for such a long time." 

My daughter, who inherited my love of all things Mayberry, sent me a message when she found out Mr. Griffith passed away. 

"This one hurts a little", she wrote. 

It really did.

There's something about the people, places and things of one's childhood--the pleasant ones--that continue to bring joy, long after one can't honestly claim any part of youth.

So long, Andy. 

Thanks for Mayberry (and Matlock, too).

SUNDAY THOUGHTS: HAPPY FATHERS' DAY

Today was so pleasant. 

I visited the Sunday School class my Dad teaches. It's always nice to see how much others regard your family members. 

We let him pick where he wanted to eat, so off to Carolina Kitchen we went. He's not into fancy restaurants. He always says, "I'm a meat and potatoes kind of guy".

(He really could be one of CK's spokespeople.) 

After brunch, it was just nice to sit around his kitchen table and listen to him talk. Navy stories. Louisiana stories. It was especially nice to hear him reminiscing about a road trip he and my Mom took to Canada, years ago. 

On my way home, as I waited at the light at South Capitol Street and Southern Avenue, I saw three young women crossing the street, heading in the direction of Eastover Shopping Center.  Between the three of them, there were about ten little kids--three in strollers. 

The sight wouldn't have seemed so odd, if not for the fact that it's Fathers' Day. 

Then I checked myself. 

Maybe it wasn't odd at all. 

Maybe their significant others were in the military. Maybe they were working. 

Maybe the dads asked for a quiet day to themselves, and the women decided to take the kids out. 

Maybe the fathers of all of the children were deceased. Incarcerated. Deployed. 

Maybe they were deadbeats. 

Maybe the women were unbearable shrews.

 

Maybe I just needed to mind my own business, and stop feeling sorry for people who may not have needed any pity at all.

 

I still couldn't help wondering, and absorbing the scene. It's Fathers' Day. 

Funny, but there were no rose, helium balloon, Katydids, corsage, or stuffed animal vendors on the corners and highway islands. 

The church parking lot was full, but not packed.

Maybe Dad is right. Maybe we do hold Mother's Day in higher esteem.

Today was a good day. 

As it progressed, I became keenly aware that, although I'm not the only one who celebrated having a consistently present father, it was a celebration not to be taken for granted.

A FATHER'S GREAT LOVE

What father would would not seek, and find a lost child
And leave him to wander alone?
What father would not do all that he could do
To care for and cover his own?
What father would not give the best that he has
Without thinking twice of the cost?
What father would shower affection without care
And leave lacking who needs him most?

A father is one whose love is made out of Love
He's present, in spite of where or when
It is the perfect example of God in the Earth
A father's great love for his children

What father would look upon one whose young face
So mirrors and speaks of his own
And not feel the anguish when life starts to make
A claim on all he's ever known
What father would not rather lose all he has
In hopes to make all right again
What father would not work with all of his strength
To point out safe, and straight paths to walk in

A father is one whose love is made out of love
He's present, in spite of where or when
It is the perfect example of God in the earth
A father's great love for his children

VRW © 2012

PLAQUEMINE

It was just great to see the sign. So many wonderful childhood memories came rushing back. 

Plaquemine seems to be frozen in time. Not much has changed. Sometimes, that's not always a bad thing. It was good to see my uncle and aunt. The only living son of my maternal grandparents is still going strong. I searched and found my mother's face in his. It was just nice to be in their home. 

I sure do hope there are some of his amazing popcorn balls in my future...: )

WAKING THOUGHTS

Even when given the privilege to do whatever you want, there's still a level of respect, appreciation, care and consideration you ought to show. Gratitude is never a bad thing, neither is good home training. Sometimes you have to stop laughing, catch people in mid scheme and advise them to stop wearing themselves out trying to devise ways to get on your nerves, or get rid of you altogether. "Nice try, but no. You're not bothering me. I've finally learned the value of being content. However, your attempts to make me miserable are certainly on God's radar. Perhaps you should care less about how you're making ME feel, and more about how HE feels about what you're doing--AND how ridiculously immature and inconsiderate you're making yourself appear." Some folk need to know that their behavior, no matter how abominable will do nothing to negatively impact your disposition or your day. Keep smiling.

WEDNESDAY THOUGHTS: 💭 PRESERVE YOUR PEACE

Being considerate, helpful, appreciative, attentive, cooperative, unselfish, grateful, giving, and disciplined, are learned behaviors. People who master them contribute to the pleasantness and ease of life. 

Being careless, lazy, rude, oblivious, disrespectful, destructive, self-centered and thoughtless, are learned behaviors, too. People who master THEM often demonstrate that they are quite proud of being so.  

At some point there's a disconnect that renders them completely oblivious to the way their less than appropriate behavior paints them in an unattractive light, and adversely affects the lives of others.

Sometimes people HAVE been taught better, and KNOW better, but insist on doing things to either prove a point, declare a position, be contrary, impede progress, be defiant, or to send a message. Unfortunately, the message they don't realize they're sending is, "I am immature, ignorant, and arrogant. I despise the lessons I was taught, think the teacher is/ was a joke, and I don't care". 

Rude awakenings are the worst, but are often necessary for people to begin to get a clue. Sometimes it takes a tumble off of a self-made high horse to cause people to drop their senses of entitlement, and begin to treat themselves, what they've been blessed to have, others, and what belongs to others, with respect. 

Sometimes people have been given so much; excused of so much; defended in their wrong so much, that the idea of giving back in even small, but significant ways, seems like too much unnecessary work. Ungratefulness, taking advantage, and expecting more is just easier.  

There's wisdom in heeding good advice, and advice given in love, is the best. Sometimes, however, it takes the rejection of someone whose approval or recommendation is needed or wanted, to get people to see just how raggedy and wrong their behavior really is. Sometimes, it takes the harsh, tactless, embarrassing, critical, even publicly spoken words of a discerning stranger to get a person to realize they've behaved abominably--and that they probably owe someone--who helped them greatly-- an apology.

My late mother insisted on graciousness and hospitality. 

It’s funny, but people will come into your space, and do things they would NEVER allow you, or anyone else to do in theirs, and then have the nerve to be offended when you put your foot down...Too bad.

Sometimes, when you're been raised to display good ol' fashioned home training, people think they can take advantage of you, your time and space, impose their wishes and wants, and dare you to push back. The problem is that some things have been allowed to go on for so long, that you're all stressed out and anxious, while the sources of your stress, are carefree and becoming progressively obnoxious. 

Come closer. 

Can you hear me? 

Good. 

Here it is: The devil is, and has always been a liar. Take your power back. I don't care if it is a late move. Do it. Yes. Pick your battles, but when it is necessary, speak up.

We all have rights, but they only extend to the point that they infringe upon the rights of others. There's being accommodating and nice, and then there's being a freakin' doormat.

I'm all for patience. I'm a big fan, but there are times when confrontation must take place. (Yeah. I can't believe I said it either!) One can never assume that people know better. Give some people a little rope and they'll hang themselves and you. 

Some things NEED to be addressed. Sometimes, you have to say an unapologetic, "No. I don't like, want, or appreciate, that." 

Genuine people, who value you and your relationship, will understand and make adjustments. Those who don't, and have never respected you will have a telltale hissy fit. Make note of it. It may be disappointing, but it's good to know where you stand with people. Don't EVER play with snakes or dogs unless you really know them.

Stress is real. Get it off of you. When people overstep boundaries, don't sit,  and stew, and pout, and pray that it will stop. Speak up--politely, maturely and respectfully, but DO it. If people are mad because you refuse to allow them to steamroll all over you, they've given you a gift--the gift of knowing how, and when to say "Good riddance".

One KNOWS when one's behavior is shady, purposeful, antagonistic, and inconsiderate. (For example, if you're stomping on a floor like a team of Clydesdales on crack, don't act like you don't know you're impacting what is taking place below you. You know what you're doing. You're just being a jerk. Stop it.) 

Perhaps what is unnerving to toxic people, is that those who they've perceived to be pushovers have finally taken off their blinders and muzzles, and straightened up their backbones. 

It's time-out for people who think they can just do and say whatever they want, while others cower, cringe, and take it--and loud never made ANYTHING right. Imposing people never expect you to discover the volume button on your voice, but it's there. People who think they don't have to consider or respect you, are straight up crazy demons from the depths of hell. Don't play with these imps. Don't be suckered by them either. Speak up. Let them know you see them. Take your power back. Don't you run and hide another day. When you stand up, they'll break, run, and roll out.

Don't ever try to justify inappropriate behavior. The day you think your needs, wants, and wishes eclipse those of another person, you're on the way to getting your feelings hurt. Be considerate. Be careful who you align yourself with. Don't ever be so pressed for a relationship that you become the foil of the enemy. Know the history. Messy people are loyal to no one. 

Do the right thing and all will be well. Don't impose. Respect boundaries, honor the wishes of others, watch your tone, mind your business, search yourself, think before you speak, get rid of that self-imposed authority, make sure your motives are pure, be honest, and you won't EVER have to question whether or not your behavior has crossed a line.

Many people are offended, frustrated, dragging people's names through the mud, sowing seeds of discord, and looking for new allies in their campaigns against others. What a miserable way to be. Unfortunately, it's too painful to acknowledge that their own behavior is, and has ALWAYS been offensive, divisive, and evil. Those who have suffered because of it, however, would be wise to not allow it another day. 

MONDAY THOUGHTS: HOME

I've been in Baton Rouge for a week now. 

I always have a nice time hanging out with my big sister. 

I have enjoyed great meals at The Chimes, the church picnic and services at New Gideon Baptist Church, and meeting students and staff at LSU's Cain Center. 

I've spoken to numerous relatives, and visited a cousin in the hospital who recently had a stroke. 

I finally met, in person, his daughter, who I'd "met" on Facebook and Twitter. I regretted the circumstances, but it was lovely meeting her. 

It has been nice chatting with people, and finding out who's related to whom, and how. 

Funny, but when I was a child, I had no idea there was so much to do in Louisiana, other than go to church, walk to the corner stores, or visit one relative or another.

I wake up every day, and the sounds of a radio playing, birds singing, trains in the distance, and the smell of Community coffee brewing, reminds me of my grandmother, and the summers spent at her house. 

Even after all these years, it still feels awfully odd not going to her house in Addis, seeing her screen door swing open, and hearing her say, "Ooh! Look at my babies!" 

I just want to go and stand in her yard. Her house is no longer there, but I just want to be in that space. There was so much love in her house. 

When you're a kid, you know who cares about you. In my paternal cousins, who were her neighbors, I had built in summer playmates.

I'm looking forward to singing at Antioch Baptist Church on Sunday. My maternal grandmother and grandfather are both buried in the church's cemetery. The last time I sang there was at my grandmother's funeral. She had been one of the church mothers, and a deaconess.

I remember there would always be someone coming to her house, on Sunday mornings, to give us a ride to the church. When we'd get there, it was always a challenge to maneuver the white shell and gravel path, while wearing patent leather Mary Jane's.

 

I remember the women in gleaming white uniforms; their heads covered with everything from starched handkerchiefs, to table doilies. 

I remember wooden pews, hymns, prayers, fans, testimonies, and Sunday School.

It's 2012, and much has changed, but the feeling I always had while being here, hasn't. 

I really do love it. 

It's "home".

#addis

#lukeville

#brusly

#westbatonrougeparish

#nostalgia