Fish Fish everywhere;but who wants to clean them?

I have been asking my friend J. to take me fishing for Seven years.

Every time I ask him ,he just laughs.I don't get it.Why does he laugh?What is it?too Fat?too Northern?Not serious enough?No dexterity?What?I don't get it.

So today he calls me about 5pm says "what are you doin?"I said "I'm sittin down".He says "You must do allot of that".I say "only when I'm sittin down"!!!

He says"You want some fish?"I say" of course"

So we agree to meet in the gravel parking lot near McDonalds.This is where all the drug deals are done in our little town.He says "Bring a couple of garbage bags."

J. is the best fisherman I ever met,He knows the Arkansas River like the back of his hand,J. never comes home without fish,,,Ever!

I so envy him,I fish allot and come home without fish all the time.

J. is a real man's man as they say a big strong tough dude!He's a contractor, wich means he can do anything Painter,Carpenter,Electrician,Dry wall,Mechanic,Body work,fisherman,Gardener,Hunter,on the school board at our church,and nobody I mean nobody can fry Catfish like my friend J.Absolutely perfect fried fish period.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAanyway,So I meat him in the drug deal parking lot,and he starts counting catfish,one bigger than the next,bigger and bigger and bigger 5lber,8lber,20lber,4lber,12lber,on and on and on all together27 count em thats TWENTY SEVEN catfish,I've gone Cat fishing countless times and nary a catfish to be caught never.

So J. says "Go head, you can have em all,I'm tired of cleaning em".

So I just finished cleaning and filleting 27 catfish.Oh and did I tell you just how good Arkansas river catfish are,Its a whole outer worldly experience,actual FLAVOR,theres nothing like it.Anytime you go to a restaurant,your eating farm raised frozen catfish fillets from China,don't let anybody lie to you,thats a fact,even in the south.

I am so thankful to know my friend J.I just wish he'd stop laughing every time I ask him to take me fishing.

Busted disgusted and in God I have not trusted

The other day at church my Pastors wife,lets call her m.a. said to me"Brother Teyed(I live in the south and thats what Ted sounds like here)why are you cussin so much on your blog".BUSTED

Then coincidentally My Pastor whom we'll call ,,,well, Pastor preached a sermon on how our communications really communicate what is in our hearts.I won't rewrite the whole sermon here but suffice it to say the longer he preached,the heavier the conviction was on my head,it was like a great weight on me,I wanted to run out the door but could not rise for the great weight of conviction.A material,physical heaviness settled over me and I could not move,finally I was released during the "Invitation"(Alter call for those of you who DID NOT attend a Baptist college) and ran directly to the bathroom to mop the sweat from my bald Jew head.

This is the second time Pastor has saved whatever tattered shredded fragment of a relationship I had left with God.

Of course God never, ever is out of relationship with me,obviously I stick my finger in God's eye and say"leave me alone I just want to indulge my sinful nature,stay up there on your cross and leave me alone!)

My Christian walk or spiritual life or whatever you want to call it has always, always been just that way. Obedient, disobedient, obedient, disobedient.It is truly very difficult to be inside this head of mine.

All I truly have to hold on to is,like Peter said,"To whom else can I go Lord" (obvious paraphrase)and I know that I belong to Jesus,period,but I also fear he will spit me out into the fire,Ahhh the duality of scripture.

People talk about Heaven in these great platitudes,The bejeweled (not beJewed)Four square city.Mansions, Streets of Gold, seeing Jesus and the saints,ancestors,getting all the answers to all the universes great dilemmas.For me ,it will be heaven in just not having to deal with the Sin nature and the guilt of messin up once more.

I am so thankful for the message the other day,Thankful to God and his vessel my wonderful Pastor and friend.

curry?

Back a life or so ago,I drove an airport shuttle;
I'd pick up people from different addresses,fill up the van and bring them to the airport,so they could fly to wherever the heck they were trying to escape to.I would always encourage the vacationers with little farewell quips like"Have a nice vacation,too bad you have to take yourself with you"or "When do you want me to pick you up?,that is if you survive the plane crash."or "Is this one your wife,or the girl you were with last time?
Everybody loved Ted.
Anyway one day I had to pick up 7 people at Kennedy,(That's JFK for those of you who went to Baptist college)
The first 5 are one group of really lovely little old frail ladies,sweet and telling about all the fun they had and how they were real tired and anxious to get home,All in nice light summer tourist clothing.
I took off and soon spotted my next ride waiting at the assigned area,2 rather disheveled Indian guys,How did I know they were Indian for those of you wanting to stab me with your inane"we are the world,don't prejudge on appearance,don't profile,maybe they were some sort of other Asian maybe they were just human beings."Here's how I could tell...Cause they looked like Indian!!!,is that alright that they are Indians and somebody can tell their Indians because they haven't lived in your insular elitist limousine liberal little world.You destroyer of every kindness and good human charity,by mandating everyone how to be with the rest of humanity!!!!
Once I was having a discussion with a hippie waitress of mine(proud boaster of armpit hair and all things braided Indian style (Feathers, not dots like the heroes of our story)about the terrible poverty in India and how really sad the situation there is,she of course started singing that old favorite,globalist ballad called Overpopulation,I chimed in boyishly as is my habit(Chiming in boyishly, that is)that I thought the reason they were in such abject poverty was a result of Hinduism(Need I repeat the stories of people living in the streets near starvation and feeding the foraging local rats there last morsel of food because the rat is worshipped only second to Elsie the Cow.
She called me a racist.Sad I hate Indians(dots not feathers)( Now can you respect all people but not respect all beliefs,I guess not in America.
AnywaaaaaaayI pull up to these to guys and from my vantage point(and buy vantage point I mean that I poses site)I can see that one of these two gentle man has had too much to drink on the plane,so I open the door and say to the not drunk one"Is your friend gonna be alright? because I cant abide and wont baby sit drunks)"oh yes yes' he says, 'he's fine, just had a little too much to drink, but he'll just sleep in the van"I said, "look I'm not supposed to take anyone who's obviously intoxicated in the van'.He says" please Sir we just want to go home, we're tired and he won't misbehave at all. He's been sleeping on the plane and he'll be fine"So I say to the drunk one"Can you understand me?"He says "Yes" so I said, 'Are you OK ?I mean I don't want to take you cause your drunk and I have these nice old white Ladies in the van, so I need to know that there wont be any trouble.He said "Sir"(Putting his hand up to his chest,"I promise ,you I will not speak, I will just go to sleep,I'm sorry"he was obviously a really sweet man that had, had a little too much alcohol and was already apologising for any bad behavior he obviously did not have in him to do.Satisfied with his answer I told them to step on the van and sit in the back in a very pleasant and inviting tone( If I do Say so myself).They get on the van, walked to the back,sat down, and the drunk one immediately starts projectile vomiting stinky curry and Jack Daniels all over the backs and heads of the little old white ladies,not to mention the interior of the van,me ,his friend, the dashboard ,the windows, the steering wheel,everything .This vomiting went on for a full five minutes
Horror at Kennedy(that's JFK for those of you who attended a baptist college)

Momma

My Mother has always been one of the coolest people I know,speaking of her ,not of amother but as a person ,this is a woman that has been around.During world war 2 she worked for the army,then the "League of nations"then the UN.
her father was a mechanic,she worked with him in his garage as a kid and knows everything about the internal combustion engineShe was flying planes when she was in her teens and that was in the 1930's,she has always read 3to 4 books a week,and gave me my love for cooking and experimenting with new cuisines,and ingrediants.
When she lived in Israel,already in her sixties,she would get up at three am get on her 3 wheeler,peddle 4 miles to the medditeranian sea,have her morning swim,pedal back,shower then get on the bus,and go to a full time job.
When I was a kid we lived directly on the beach,my mother would swim so far out,you could barely see this dot bobbing up and down on the waves,I would cry and scream for her to come back,I was so scared.
She always had vegetable,and amazing flower gardens,and she worked a full time job administering a Catholic childrens charity until she was 79 years old.
Now she is 85.Up until 6months ago,she was able to walk up to ten city blocks with her walker.Now she can only walk from chair to chair and can only get out when I take her in her wheel chair.
She somehow takes it mainly in stride,she is no longer capable of even making a cup of tea.
This is extremely hard for me to wach.
I have been taking care of my mother for the last three months and its hard to see this giant in my life my Momma the person who has been a constant source of support and love and sympathy,(c'mon,who loves you like your momma)
I really don't get it ,at the end of life all you have left is your memories,if your blessed enough to retain them and not wind up drooling and defecating on yourself in a nursing home.I just don't get it.Legacy shmegacy its very hard not to be cynical about the whole thing.

Fred is Dead

I would like to thank my good Friend Fred,who died Feb 6th at 4:10 am,for having a name that rhymes with Dead.
I would also like to thank him for the many years of friendship,laughs advise,and love.I would also like to thank him for being the father of my other friends Fred Jr.and his sister Michelle for being the father of my other friends,Kathy,and her husband, also named Fred
his grand children Haley and Bud who I consider my friends and my Son Aaron's friends there are other children and grandchildren Fred's wife Mary is also my friend as is his brother Duley my good friend.He had six other brothers and sisters whom I do not know well.
It was a Horrible beautiful time.The Horrible part is obvious,Cancer ,fear,hope,Chemotherapy,radiation,being told he was cancer free ,only to immediately get double pneumonia and die three days later covered with flaky skin,inside of his moth and tongue covered with yeast sores,pain morphine,the "Canker and the Worm"
The beautiful;
As Fred was dying in his bed,in his living room,was his whole family ,at least Seventy people Every one sharing memories,laughs.And of course Mary,Mary, only concerned with every one else."Brother Ted,get you somethin' to eat"every one had brought food.
I left at midnight and Fred Jr.called me at 4:20,which meant a lot to me ,cause Fred SR had died at 4:10 which I assume means he called me first out of all his Dad's friends.
I went back and waited for the Coroner.
The next day was the visitation at the funeral home,open casket(as a Jew I never saw that as a kid and never got used to it as a Christian.looked like a waxed Fred,a poor faxcimally.400 people came cold rainy snowy weather, and all.
The next day was the funeral,I've seen Br.Mike(my Pastor and friend)preach a lot of funerals and never heard his voice quiver until now.
A hard weekend,but not for Fred cause Fred is dead,,,,,,,,,and with his Jesus in Heaven.

My Son

I miss my Son!I know he follows my blog so I will try not to embarrass him or divulge any secrets.
I miss my Son.
As a single parent(no political correctness or pity seeking)when your kids leave,you have no one to share the experience with.
My boy was the cutest most tender,injured six year old you would ever meet.
I am afraid I will always see him in this way.
He is a man now,an Army man at that.I am proud beyond superlatives of his ability to survive.
I want to protect him,but it's not my job,and he is a man and can certainly take care of himself.Its hard to not hug him and squeeze him,its also incredibly hard not to grab his ass,something I did when he was a little boy that I thought was cute.I kept it up way too long."Parents,Don't exasperate your children"Says the apostle Paul.
I Often wish I could turn back time and be a way more intelligent parent,like J.C. or his wife,A..
Can't do that.
I love my handsome son.I miss him.

Butta baby,butta!!!!

Yesterday I heard from J.C.Not Jesus.
I have extreme love for him.
I am always thrilled,Thats right "little school girl thrilled" to hear from him.
I get such a kick from him.
Picture Balu the Bear(from Jungle book)with the sharpest wit on earth.
like so many people in the Salvation Army,,Had he chosen a life of self seeking,as apposed to selflessness,he would have been world famous as a comedian,musician,writer,director,actor,Broadway,Hollywood,the whole deal,but J.C. chose to help people realize the very best in themselves.Care for the poor and uplift the youth in his care.
He is,without exception,the funniest person I ever met.He is the only human,in person,on TV,or on the stage,that can make me laugh till I cry.I am a bitter person,so believe me ,it takes a lot to get me to giggle like a bitch.
God has given him the family that he deserves.
A. J.C.'s wife is the perfect human period,an anchor,a rock,The essential patient wife and mother.Kind,like wild flower Honey,sweet,like the perfect,cool morning air in the forest.I can't even begin to describe their three baby girls with out crying for missing them.
I,in no way deserve to be blessed to even have heard about them,let alone be called their friend