Is What You Want REALLY What You Want?

What is your goal, your main desire in life? What is it you want so badly that you can almost taste it, touch it, smell it? What is it that you're working towards?

Is it really what you want?

Will that goal quench an insatiable thirst once you reach and drink of it? Will attaining it mean you're done, you'll coast through the rest of your life without another goal being set?

Will you be satisfied?

When I consider these questions, examine my goals, I think about high school, the endless hours sitting in class, taking notes, tests, quizzes, thinking about what I was going to do once I graduated, what I wanted to do.

I couldn't wait to graduate and put an end to the monotonous days spent at Madison. I wanted to get out into the world, start the next chapter of life, see what it held. The first day of my freshman year, graduation seemed so far away; when that day in June came four years later, time had seemed to pass very quickly, drifting away like smoke from an extinguished candle.

Graduating had been a goal. I achieved it. Looking back now, nearly 42 years later, I realize how much better I could have been, the grades I could have attained if only I'd applied myself. In other words, I reached my goal without fully committing myself to it.

And I regret it now.

Today I wish I could be back there, sitting in Mr. Gillson's civics class, or Mrs. Fehr's journalism class, but I know I can't. I can't go back and work harder during baseball practice, can't become a better player. Can't go back and treat a few people a little better.

I reached my goal but it has become hollow over the passing years.

That's the thing about goals. They can feel amazingly good once you reach them but, as time passes, they can come to mean less to you, lose their value. The real satisfaction I got was high school and playing baseball. It wasn't graduation, it was the daily grind of getting homework done at an acceptable level, riding that bus every morning until I got my driver's license, struggling to make it through Mrs. Downs' French class and, yes, the musty, stale sweat-smell of the locker room while getting dressed for baseball practice.

It was the journey, not the destination. Enjoy the road you're traveling right now, every step of it; be the best that you can while getting there.

One day, you might reach your goal but what you'll remember most was the route that got you there.

Never Give Up !

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zsqo1H-up_g

The Dash In The Middle

We're born, we live and we die. The living, that's where we make our mark, where we decide what we leave behind. Each of us decides who we  will be, what we'll do to contribute, what legacy we will work towards and what we'll leave behind.

It's the dash in the middle. That's what counts.

That dash in the middle is found in the place we will all end up: the grave yard. That dash is on every headstone of every grave in every cemetery. The date to the left of that dash is the beginning, the birth, a starting point to the life we will live. It is the roaring, fiery launch of a rocket-life that begins with a newborn infant's first breath, whimper and cry. From that very moment until the last breath is drawn, that dash in the middle is who we are, who we become, how we shape our lives. That dash in the middle is what we do with the life we are given, what we say to the world, a statement that will last long after we are gone in the memories of those whose dashes ours intersects.

That dash in the middle is time, a commodity that cannot be bought but can easily be lost or, worse, wasted. We are given that dash in the middle by our Almighty Creator who, in His infinite wisdom, grants us a choice in what we do with that dash, the life we live and what we choose to do with it.

That dash in the middle needs to be nurtured, watered and grown into a life-tree that will bear fruit, sustaining the chain-reaction of all the dashes that will follow through the ages.

What are you doing with that dash in the middle, right now, this moment you've taken to read this entry? What does that dash in the middle look like, this instant, to those whose own dash yours crosses? No one else decides what your dash in the middle will look like, how bold or meaningful that dash is or may become, how deeply it will be etched into the headstone that is our time, our lives.

That dash in the middle, though small it may be in our final resting place, is the single, most important life-long symbol of what we did with our lives, how well we filled, or wasted, that dash. The dash in the middle seems unending in youth but very short when the date to the right of it is filled. Make that dash in the middle have meaning, both to yourself and all the others who are filling their own. Don't just say, wish or dream; DO. Take that first bold step, make that dash in the middle deeper, more meaningful, impactful. Fill that dash in the middle to overflowing, splash it positively over all the other dashes encompassed in your own.

Make that dash in the middle COUNT.

Calvin Broadus and Society's Double-Standard

Who?

You know, Calvin...who uses the stage moniker 'Snoop Dogg'.

Yeah, that guy.

Broadus recently released a 'music' ( and I use that term very loosely ) video in which he's depicted as shooting our current President in the head.

That's right...he shoots President Trump ( depicted as a clownish image ) in the head. With a handgun.

Broadus is a convicted felon, gang member and drug trafficker who's made a name for himself in the rap industry; a criminal that's appeared on reality shows, late night talk shows...heck, he even cooked with fellow convicted felon Martha Stewart on TV, so he's gotta be a good guy, right?

His video doesn't surprise me in the least. He once released a song ( again, loosely-used word; what the heck do you call that stuff? ), that HE wrote, that advocates shooting police officers. In 'Tha Shiznit', there's a line that says "...it's 1-8-7 on a mother******* cop..."; 187 is the California penal code section for homicide, The next stanza includes reference to shooting people with an AK-47 rifle.

Clearly, Broadus is a peace-loving, patriotic American.

Let's turn the tables on this. Suppose someone like, say, Toby Keith did a music video in which he shoots a cartoon Barack Obama. The media firestorm would last for weeks and end the country music star's career, but in today's liberal, double-standard society, what Broadus did is considered 'art' and 'free speech'. The mainstream, fake-news media might have covered this story for exactly one day, never to be heard of again, but Broadus will be hailed as a social justice warrior by those thumb-sucking, participation trophy snowflakes who need safe spaces and protest micro-aggression...yet lyrics from the vast majority of felon Broadus' numbers include violence, glorify drug use and disrespect women.

There's that double-standard thing again...

                                                                  Calvin Broadus

Pre-judging Repeal of the Affordable Care Act

From a story in the News Journal, printed March 10, 2017, covering local concerns about the effort to repeal and replace the ACA:

"People's lives are at risk, and it seems like...you have to be rich to be healthy, and I am so opposed to that," said Samantha Hypes, a medical social worker. "You shouldn't have to be rich to be healthy."

Ms. Hypes, I am, too. I am opposed to people being denied quality health care because of financial standing. However, your version of opposition is flawed, based on whatever your definition of 'rich' may be.

Consider this: I'm retired on total disability, meaning I live on a fixed income. When I left the job in 2013 my health premiums were $268 a month. Since that time they've skyrocketed to over eight hundred dollars a month, thanks to the (Un)Affordable Care Act's full implementation, and I can't draw on my social security contributions for another six years. When I called the local SSA office after being forced to retire due to on-duty injuries, I was told Ohio Police and Fire's definition of disability was quite different from theirs. I paid into SS for decades yet, despite the fact I have enough metal parts in me to build a Buick, I can't benefit; however illegal immigrants put hundreds of millions of dollars' worth of burden on the American taxpayer every year, with much of that money coming from SSA.

What I'll draw at age sixty-six, based on present-day figures, will cover about two-thirds of my monthly healthcare premiums.

The point is, the ACA as it currently stands is extremely flawed; insurance didn't become cheaper, as was touted; rather, premiums jumped by several hundred dollars a month.

And I ain't rich.

John Wick versus Jack Reacher: who wins?

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Someone please, tell me: what has the President done since January 20, 2017 that has been detrimental to women? I watched the Cleveland evening news and saw women...and a few 'males'... marching, protesting, celebrating a 'Day Without Women'. I saw a woman holding a sign saying that the President and Vice-President must be removed, calling them 'fascists'. Another held one that read 'Women's rights are human rights', yet I'm quite sure she supports killing the unborn, a gross violation of the right to life. I wonder if she realizes that many of those murdered unborns would have been little girls?

I still don't understand what the issue is. Equal pay for equal work? Pretty sure that became federal law several decades ago, yet these feminist protesters skipped out on their jobs to protest for equal pay? As with the 'Day Without Immigrants', some of the protesters will find themselves unemployed for their troubles.

Feminists need to realize that Hillary Clinton lost the election because of her political stance and liberal sympathies...and not because she is a woman.

And as for equality? Just ask my wife who runs things here at Ram Field Ranch.

Monday Morning Musings

I made a mistake.

I own up to it but, unfortunately, it can't be undone. I apologized to the affected party and will take steps to ensure it doesn't happen again.

Ownership means not only taking credit for deeds well done but also those actions that have had a negative impact. I can blame no one but myself, the guy I see in the mirror while shaving.

Taking responsibility, or 'owning', an action nowadays is the exception rather than the rule. Too often we see or read daily of someone or some group blaming everyone but themselves for something they generated, offering outlandish excuses or turning a situation around to make it seem as if the 'other guy' emerged from an evil, cold, dark mist and committed an act for which there was a reaction they aren't responsible for.

Not so here. I am an imperfect person who sometimes makes mistakes; it's called being human. There's only been one man who has ever walked this earth that can be called a perfect being and you can read about Him in the bible.

                                                                *  *  *  *  *

I have a neighbor, Rod Mobley. Rod is a very humble, quiet guy who goes about his business  unobtrusively, never making waves or drawing attention to himself. He and his wife Lisa are fantastic people whom my wife and I are proud to call not only neighbors but friends.

Last week the News Journal ran a story about Rob and his passion: arm wrestling.  It was a well-written article, giving readers a glimpse of the man and those who gather in his garage every Sunday afternoon to practice their craft, an activity that fills his driveway and causes overflow parking in the high school parking lot.

If only I weren't sixty years old with arthritic shoulders and thumbs...

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Straight out of 'Kids Say The Darndest Things', I offer this exchange between myself and my grandson Butch, age 4. I pick him up every Tuesday from daycare; part of our routine is stopping at Tim Horton's for a donut on the way home.

"Papaw, when you and Mamaw go to heaven, I will come and see you." I have no idea where that came from, completely out of the blue.

Me: "Yes, you will someday."

After a long pause: "Papaw are there donuts in heaven?"

I love that little man.