Eternal Perspectives

This blog, along with Lord of the Kingdom, has been quiet for the last several months. Given that silence, I thought I’d let the few of you who might stop by or still have me on an RSS feed know what I’ve been up to.

There are basically two things that have occupied my time and energy during this time; I’ll tell you about the more temporal and frivolous first before moving on to the (ahem) spiritual and godly thing I’ve been about.

It all started with this one. One of my good friends - also a colleague - has a Harley- Davidson Fat Boy and has been after me to get one so we could ride. Early February of this year I found this ‘96 Vulcan 800 Classic for $3150 (4400 miles) and decided to go for it. I hadn’t ridden in 35+ years so I took a basic motorcycle safety class that was worth every penny I paid for it. I was licensed shortly after that and took off. That, happily, led to this:

My wife absolutely loves to ride with me on the motorcycle. It’s nothing for us to put three or four hundred miles on the bike during a good weekend (weather permitting, of course). We’ve discovered a lot of excellent country roads here in south central Texas - or wherever we are - and my wife, who is a very good photographer, has me stop whenever there’s a picture to be taken. In our 28 years of marriage there has never been anything we’ve so thoroughly enjoyed doing together - well, you know what I mean. We’ve also discovered some great places to eat, like:

Being Yankees ourselves, we love the idea of going to a biker bar in the heart of Texas named “Yankees Tavern.” Now, I’m no longer stupid enough* to drink, let alone drink and hop on a motorcycle. But the food at these kind of places is usually remarkably good, although it may just be that after swallowing bugs for the last 100 miles anything taste better. It was a little daunting, I must confess, to roll into one of these places with so many bikers: I’ve seen the shows documenting all the violence associated with biker gangs. After awhile, though, I came to realize that most of the riders there were just like me: fathers and professionals. There are no “gangs” at the places we frequent: if there were, we wouldn’t be there!

Inevitably (I suppose), the Vulcan 800 gave way to this:

I got this last Friday. It’s a 2006 Vulcan 1600 Classic; I was able to buy it (with just 1680 miles) for $7K. I didn’t feel completely safe when my wife and I were on the 800 and had to accelerate rapidly at higher speeds, so I knew I had to get a bigger bike. I never anticipated anything like this, though, and am still getting use to it. It’s all the bike I’ll ever need and is far safer than the other. Plus, it’s black. All motorcycles should be solid colors and dark. Pretty motorcycles are an oxymoron. I’m surprised at how differently it handles - especially at slow speeds - than the 800 and am also surprised at how much heavier it feels, although it’s only 150 pounds more. It weighs in at about 700 without passengers; with passengers it’s . . . more.

Here’s a couple of other views:

That’s another of my good friends - a local physician and former tennis adversary - on the back. I took him and his wife for rides - not at the same time! - last Sunday. Not being totally adjusted to the bike, I’m sure I scared the crap out of them, which was OK in his case but completely unintentional in hers. I’ll take them again in a few weeks when I’m better on the 1600.

This photo was taken in Montgomery, TX, last weekend. This time of year is great for riding.

I’m going to Ruidoso, NM, at the end of May: four of us are going to make the 650-mile trip and stay at one of the guys’ summer home in the mountains nearby. We’re planning on taking two days each way and then taking some day trips while we’re there. Sadly, my wife won’t be able to go; happily, I will! But I’d rather have her go, too.

Oh, the other thing? I’ll post about it very soon.

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*I drank enough before I was a believer to last me until the age 78 years, 7 months, and 18 days.

Jn 19.22

 

More than any time in history mankind faces a crossroads. One path leads to despair and utter hopelessness; the other to total extinction. Let us pray that we have the wisdom to choose correctly.” - Woody Allen

Jn 19.22

 

I am not posting today because it is 06.06.06 and, as you should already know, the world has ended and I am no longer here.

Thank you for your understanding on this matter.

Sincerely,

The Dead Guy

Jn 19.22

 

Gee, and I had always believed such quizzes were fluff!

You’re the University of Oxford!
Ancient in your perspective, wise in your judgment, and revered by your peers, you command respect. You know more about speaking English than perhaps anyone you could imagine. This reverence has made you a bit stodgy, however, and there are those who say you’ve outgrown your own legacy. Nevertheless, many consider it an honor just to spend time with you. You have been down many roads, but it seems that all roads lead to you.

Take the University Quiz
at the Blue Pyramid.

Jn 19.22

 

The following is old but still worth a smile. I got it via email.

A very proper lady began planning a week’s camping vacation for her and her Baptist Church group. She wrote to a campground for reservations. She wanted to make sure that the campground was fully equipped and modern, but couldn’t bring herself to write the word ‘toilet’ in her letter. So, she decided on the old-fashioned term ‘Bathroom Commode.’ Once written down she still was not comfortable. Finally she decided on the abbreviation ‘B.C.’ and wrote, ‘does your campground have its own B.C.?’

“When the campground owner received the letter, he couldn’t figure out what she meant by ‘B.C.’ He showed it to several of the campers, one of whom suggested the lady was obviously referring to a Baptist Church since there was a letterhead on the paper which referred to a Baptist Church. So he sent this reply.

Dear Madam:

The B.C. is located nine miles from the camp ground in a beautiful grove of trees. I admit it is quite a distance if you are in the habit of going regularly. No doubt you will be pleased to know that it will seat 350 people at one time, and it is open on Tuesday, Thursday, and Sunday of each week. Some folks like to take their lunch and make a day of it. The acoustics are very good, so everyone can hear even the quietest passages. It may interest you to know that my daughter met her husband there. We are also having a fund-raiser to purchase new seats, as the old ones have holes in them.

Unfortunately my wife is ill and has not been able to attend regularly. It’s been a good six months since she last went. It pains her very much not to be able to go more often. As we grow older, it seems to be more of an effort, especially in cold weather.

Perhaps I could accompany you the first time you go, sit with you, and introduce you to all the other folks who will be there. I look forward to your visit.

We offer a very friendly campground.

Jn 19.22

 

The following was emailed to me by a colleague; perhaps you have read or heard it before:

Young King Arthur was ambushed and imprisoned by the monarch of a neighboring kingdom. The monarch could have killed him but was moved by Arthur’s youth and ideals. So, the monarch offered him his freedom, as long as he could answer a very difficult question. Arthur would have a year to figure out the answer and, if after a year, he still had no
answer, he would be put to death.

The question? What do women really want?

Such a question would perplex even the most knowledgeable man, and to young Arthur, it seemed an impossible query. But, since it was better than death, he accepted the monarch’s proposition to have an answer by year’s end.

He returned to his kingdom and began to poll everyone: the princess, the priests, the wise men and even the court jester. He spoke with everyone, but no one could give him a satisfactory answer.

Many people advised him to consult the old witch, for only she would have the answer. But the price would be high; as the witch was famous throughout the kingdom for the exorbitant prices she charged.

The last day of the year arrived and Arthur had no choice but to talk to the witch. She agreed to answer the question, but he would have to agree to her price first.

The old witch wanted to marry Sir Lancelot, the most noble of the Knights of the Round Table and Arthur’s closest friend!

Young Arthur was horrified. She was hunchbacked and hideous, had only one tooth, smelled like sewage, made obscene noises, etc. He had never encountered such a repugnant creature in all his life.

He refused to force his friend to marry her and endure such a terrible burden, but Lancelot, learning of the proposal, spoke with Arthur. He said nothing was too big of a sacrifice compared to Arthur’s life and the preservation of the Round Table.

Hence, a wedding was proclaimed and the witch answered Arthur’s question
thus:

“What a woman really wants is to be in charge of her own life.”

Everyone in the kingdom instantly knew that the witch had uttered a great truth and that Arthur’s life would be spared.

And so it was, the neighboring monarch granted Arthur his freedom and Lancelot and the witch had a wonderful wedding.

The honeymoon hour approached and Lancelot, steeling himself for a horrific experience, entered the bedroom. But, what a sight awaited him. The most beautiful woman he had ever seen, lay before him on the bed. The astounded Lancelot asked what had happened.

The beauty replied that since he had been so kind to her when she appeared as a witch, she would henceforth, be her horrible deformed self only half the time and the beautiful maiden the other half

Which would he prefer? Beautiful during the day….or night?

Lancelot pondered the predicament. During the day, a beautiful woman to show off to his friends, but at night, in the privacy of his castle, an old witch? Or, would he preferhaving a hideous witch during the day, but by night, a beautiful woman for him to enjoy wondrous, intimate moments?

What would you do?

What Lancelot chose follows. But, make your choice before you read below. OK?

Noble Lancelot, knowing the answer the witch gave Arthur to is question, said that he would allow her to make the choice herself.

Upon hearing this, she announced that she would be beautiful all the time because he had respected her enough to let her be in charge of her own life.

The moral to this story?

If you don’t let a woman have her own way, things are going to get ugly!

Ladies, I just want you to know how upset and angry I am that such a terrible, misogynistic, despicable, demeaning falsehood would be uttered. Not only is it being emailed around the world but now - thanks to me - it is being spread around the blogosphere!

Oh, the humanity!

I am so upset.

Jn 19.22

 

David at Jollyblogger, having a bit of fun with all his friends who have challenged other bloggers to do this or that, is asking for donations of $25-$100 for absolutely no reason whatsoever. He’s just hoping for a quick buck: since there are millions and millions of bloggers, he stands to make $75,000,000 or more if just half the folks pony up for their share.

Someone chided him for poor marketing and advertising, so I thought I’d help him a little bit. I suggested something like the following:

Send me $100 or I shoot the dog!

(Big thanks to Mark’s Very Large National Lampoon Site.)

Admittedly, my idea is a rip-off of possibly the greatest magazine cover of all time: National Lampoon’s January 1973 issue. In the following edition they said that they did shoot the dog because of all the heartless people out there who refused to buy the magazine.

David, however, is more moral than I and refuses to extort money. He’d rather you just give it so he can spend it with a clear conscience!

He didn’t leave an address, however, so . . . let’s see, where did I put that PO Box number of mine?

Jn 19.22