We vote and all they can do is dance.

As I arrive at the community center to vote there are two little girls nearby.  They are overly happy for seven o’clock in the morning.  Smiles.  Laughter.  Dancing. We adults — the mature ones, the wise ones, the responsible ones — impatiently stand waiting for the line to move forward.  There’s no dancing in our line.  Occasionally one or…

The birth of Christ affects us all

Christmas Truth:  Whether we admit it or not, the birth of Christ affects us all.  The juxtaposition of the harshness of life positioned next to a baby in a manger makes us wonder which is more real. The Christ-child at Christmas  makes us long for something different.  That longing in our souls is God’s reminder that what…

Driver Exams for Dummies: It’s going to be okay

I’ve been the to California DMV (Department of Motor Vehicles) twice in the last four weeks to take an exam.  These visits were unnerving since the last time I had taken a driver’s exam was at the age of 16.  Back at 16, I took a Driver’s Education Course and all I remember is watching gruesome horror movies about what…

I see people

A number of days ago I decided to visit our youngest daughter who lives 20 some miles away, near downtown Los Angeles.  Twenty miles in LA traffic can be at minimum a 40 minute drive so I decided — just for the adventure of it — to take the metro to see her: a bus…

You can’t sell a cat on eBay (or at a garage sale).

Note: For the sake of continuity and the safety of the participants, both the plot and the names of characters in this story have been changed. No cats (real or fictitious) were harmed in the writing of this story. It all started 16 years ago when we (by “we,” I mean my wife) told our…

A lesson from MLK Jr: Do justice or be love?

The first time I was ever involved in any kind of protest was when I was a sophomore in college. Our dormitory was notorious for vandalism and that year it had escalated to such a degree that the director of campus housing made a drastic ruling: No current students living in the dormitory could return…

Blog on: Sunday rest on the worst of Mondays.

When I was in elementary school, Mom made the world’s best fried chicken, mashed potatoes, and gravy for Sunday lunch. After filling ourselves so full we could barely walk, we hung around the house for the rest of the day. We played quiet games and whacked each other with soft sticks, because if we woke…

Dirty Santas and awkward gifts.

If played correctly, the Dirty Santa gift exchange is a hoot-and-half. The idea is that you bring prank gifts to your party and trade back and forth until you end up whacking everyone in the room and leaving with the coolest prank gift that you can then bring to another Dirty Santa party. A couple…

Big Ugly Truck Guy parked illegally in a mini-me lot.

Why does it matter to me where Big Ugly Truck Guy (his real name) parks? I typically stop at Starbucks 3-4 days a week on my way to work and purchase a tall (not the real size) dark roast coffee. “No room for cream and may I have a ‘stopper,’ please?” The barista (coffee person)…

Why I started a blog and I grew up in Paris.

It all started when I gave Jesus a ride to work the other day (see December 9 blog). What I learned about my own shortcomings through this man was something I needed to share and it needed to be a little longer than 140 characters. Once it was written down I realized how much I…

Making room. Why Grandma’s visits were never a pain.

Grandma would come and visit every couple of years or so when I was a kid. . . .   One day we all packed in the car and drove to the small regional airport and watched Grandma climb out of the plane onto the tarmac.  There she was in with red hair sticking out of…