Paradise Lost

 Paradise Lost

One of the biggest times of the year in Houston is the Houston Rodeo. The biggest attraction for many folks is the series of big-name concerts! Sometimes, though, in some venues, it's buyer beware as you will find out below in an entry from May 20, 2007.

When we were kids, my older brother won a call-in contest sponsored by the local radio station, KAWL in York, Nebraska. I'm not sure if Dave claimed victory because he answered a question or if he was the first caller but his prize was a 45 rpm record, Leader Of The Pack by The Shangri-Las. If you've never heard it, the song tells the story of a good girl-bad boy, protective parents, and the inevitable motor cycle crash when the young lady breaks off the relationship. The Shangri-Las, a foursome consisting of sisters Mary and Betty Weiss and identical twins Mary Ann and Margie Ganser, began singing together as high school students in New York. Their records, like Remember (Walking In The Sand), were soap operas of teenage love and drama. Predictably, after several years, the girls split up and practically disappeared from the music scene after a career of only five years and several big hits. A minor comeback in the 1970's went nowhere and the group, minus Mary Ann who had passed away, faded back into obscurity. That is, until the late 1980's when The Shangri-Las began performing again. There was a slight problem. A producer had discovered that the group's name had never been licensed and put together an act passing them off as the originals. They used the name The Shangri-Las and sang a repertoire of their popular songs. As expected, the charter members were not amused and sought relief in court. When are The Shangri-Las not The Shangri-Las? Only a judge can say for sure.

How would you take it if someone pretended to be you? Is it flattery or insulting? Even though the survivors were no longer making their living by entertaining and did not technically own their name, did they have a right to retain the credit for their hard work as youngsters? How about the folks who went to an oldies concert, expecting to hear the grownup versions of the voices who popularized that distinctive sound in a distant decade? Is it deceptive advertising? To me, it is cut-and-dried even though I am no lawyer and know little about copyrights. If the New York Yankees take twenty-five guys off the streets of Brooklyn and put them in pinstripes, it doesn't make those impostors the Yankees. How could The Shangri-Las #2 ever look into the eyes of Mary, Betty, or Margie and not be ashamed? Being an acknowledged impersonator is one thing; the father of one of my former high school basketball players made his living as an Elvis Presley look-alike singer. But, being a pretender is quite another matter. Sometimes I feel like I am guilty of the same thing. I wouldn't call it a false identity exactly. I don't change my look but I can act like someone that I'm not. I can sing the songs and others don't know the difference...but I do and the Lord does. I can't fool him and I can't hoodwink myself. In one of the most foreboding verses of the New Testament, Jesus has the owner of a house telling those banging on his door, "I don't know who you are." (Luke 13:27) They pleaded their case but to no avail. On the other hand, Jesus knows his flock by name without a copyright or password. He knows his sheep because he loves his sheep. That is a great comfort because in the times when I might struggle figuring out who I am supposed to be, he stills knows me and loves me. By the way, the term shangri-la, taken from the novel Lost Horizon by James Hilton, has come to symbolize an Eden or paradise. Unfortunately, it can also symbolize the loss of identity as some not-so-young-anymore singers found out. Sometimes, it just doesn't pay to be famous.

Applicable quote of the day:
"LOOK OUT! LOOK OUT! LOOK OUT! LOOK OUT!"
The Shangri-Las (Leader Of The Pack)

To watch and listen to Leader Of The Pack, click or copy/paste the link below:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=37UTpnPTvIk

God bless,

Steve
Luke 18:1

SOS

 SOS

Love the song!! This is from May 31, 2017!
I heard an amazing quote in a interview yesterday. Bjorn Ulvaeus, one of the four members of the Swedish supergroup, ABBA, recounted how The WHO's Pete Townsend considered their song SOS the best pop song ever written. A friend of Townsend's backed up that compliment with the lament that Townsend played the ABBA hit non stop for a month and drove them all crazy. It just seems weird that one of the hardest rockers of all-time would love a song that many people would consider fluff. I should insert here that to many of the middle school girls I've taught over the years the initials SOS  are code for Some One Special which is code for I don't have a boyfriend yet but maybe someday! That's the kind of thing you pick up when you teach for a long time.

SOS, which is universally considered a signal of distress, has been in use since 1905 when it was introduced by the German government. In Morse code, it is three dots-three dashes-three dots continuously. Most people understand it is a warning of dangerous conditions. Alarms are useful, especially now with advanced weather alerts on the television and on cell phones. I recall tornado warnings as a boy in Nebraska as both terrifying and in an odd way, exhilarating. Our folks took them seriously and we spent much time in the basement. Everything now is alarmed it seems. Walk down the street and many homes list prominently the security company protecting their property. Newer cars, too, have alarms wired in to alert of possible theft attempts. But these go off so often I am convinced the majority of us ignore them for the most part. All this brings me to roughly seventy hours ago, late Sunday night or early Monday morning. A storm blew through Houston after midnight. I'm not sure how much rain we received but the thunder was booming for close to an hour. I was awakened but not by the thunder. As I live in an apartment complex, there are at least twenty-five cars within seventy-five feet of my bedroom window. I can't be certain how many were in this category but every time there was a thunderous crash, alarms went off, over and over again, I would guess for forty-five minutes at least. Finally, the storm passed over and the cars went back to sleep.... and I did too.

There never was any real danger but the assorted autos didn't know that. They just reacted to their programming. (I should note here my Honda has no such system!) You would have thought the end of the earth was at hand! In Luke 12, Jesus chastised a crowd He was teaching by telling them they could interpret the weather but they didn't know what was going on in their own world. He called them hypocrites for being correct in meteorology but clueless in the more meaningful signs of the times. I fear our culture is much the same. So many of us are experts in so many areas but not the ones that matters most. We are alarmed at employment rates and the price of a barrel of oil but not the sin engulfing the masses. We know previously unknowable private details of the lives of the rich and famous, often rejoicing when they stumble, and ignore the physical and spiritual poverty of untold millions. The pronouncement Jesus made against many of His time in Matthew 13:13 still rings true today:
   "Though seeing, they do not see; though hearing, they do not hear or understand.'' 
The truth is we need to wake up. The car alarms shook me from my dreams three night ago but soon enough, I drifted back into the sleeping state. I pray we don't sleepwalk through the very grave dangers facing humanity in 2017.

Applicable quote of the day:
“Only one thing that you can see and hear that is beautiful and frightening at the same time, and that is a thunder storm.” 
 R.K. Cowles

To watch and listen to ABBA sing SOS, click or copy/paste the link below:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cvChjHcABPA

God bless,
Steve
Luke 18:1

The Note

 The Note

Over my career, I have been blessed to work with countless awesome young ladies on the basketball court. Through FACEBOOK, I've been able to reconnect- I love hearing from these kids who often now have kids of their own! The following, from July 19, 2007, is about a memorable note I once received from a player.

I'm pretty excited. My complex is redoing my apartment, new carpet and paint job. I've been here for nine years so I guess I qualify as a exemplary tenant. That said, repainting and carpeting when you are still residing in the apartment requires some clearing of the walls and shuffling of furnishings to render the makeover as painless as possible. This afternoon was spent in my bedroom walk-in closet where I have numerous boxes of stuff. I decided to sort and eliminate things I would never have need of. The stuff consists of basketball tapes, college research papers, sermon and devotional outlines, yearbooks, wedding and graduation announcements, etc. The majority of the boxes, however, are crammed with letters, notes, and cards. I keep what people send me so I have a multitude of correspondences, I would estimate in the multiple thousands. Many of the letters come from the close to one hundred fifty young ladies who have played on my middle school and high school basketball teams. Some of the girls have been prolific writers, both numerically and in sheer volume of words. I am about one third through the boxes and it is a tedious process but I have two bags of trash to set out in the morning already. At the outset, I promised myself I would not get caught up in reading but I have cheated just a little bit. I'm glad I fudged. For someone reason, my eyes were captured by this note, written in girlish script:
Coach Hawley,
I just thought I'd write to say thanks! Thanks for giving me the chance to make myself better. Thank you for helping me with everything last year. I'm very sorry I let you down in the beginning last year. But you never gave up on me, I mean you didn't think I would come back but I had to! I've never been so close to so many people. I can't explain what the feeling of closeness is to me! I just wanted to say thank you!

Here's the neat thing: there was no signature and no date. There was no hint of time or place in the words so I have no idea who the young lady author was. She might have been a Georgia Christian Lady General. She possibly was a Friendship Christian Lady Commander. Maybe she was a Westbury Christian Lady Wildcat. Whoever she was/is, we left on good terms and she felt as if I had forgiven her for some long-forgotten misdeed. She was grateful even though I'm at a loss to know the circumstances of her gratitude. I wish my prayers were more like her note. I'm not good at being excited when I say thank you. My feeble efforts at gratitude are not nearly as enthusiastic as hers. She somehow felt I was responsible for the bond she felt with her teammates, another weakness as I sometimes keep others at arm's length. So, as I get ready to go to bed and speak to the Lord one last time, I have her words- and example- echoing through my mind. I wonder what I'll find tomorrow?

Applicable quote of the day:
"One of the pleasures of reading old letters is the knowledge that they need no answer."
Lord Byron

God bless,
Steve
Luke 18:1

The Cleaning Rotation

 

 The Cleaning Rotation

Do they take better care of your car when it's clean? I take no chances as this entry from June 26, 2013 explains!

 I took my car into Discount Tire yesterday to have my tires rotated. Several years ago, I signed a service contract with the company and it includes the free rotation every six months or X number of miles which I don't know because I never drive that much. (This is not an advertisement for the company but I have been extremely satisfied with their level of professionalism and courtesy afforded to me.) Arriving early, I was able to get in and out in forty-five minutes with a plan to buy two new tires at Thanksgiving but I'm good to go for my drive to Arkansas one week from today for our bi-annual Chesshir Family Reunion. I'm about to make a confession here. Do you know what I did before taking my Honda Fit in for this tire maintenance? I washed it. I took out everything from the inside that might make it appear messy. I cleaned the windows with a Windex-like spray. I swabbed the dashboard with Armor All wipes. I sprayed the interior with Febreze. When I drove into their parking lot, if it didn't look new, it at least looked and smelled pretty good!

This may seem silly to you. After all, they see my car every six months and I'm under a warranty with them. Why would it matter what it looks like that when they move the tires around and check the pressure? Truthfully, it probably makes no difference. Still, I have this little voice back in my head whispering they might take better care of my car if they think I take good care of my car. You know, deep down I really don't think they do but I can't take that chance! So, I clean it up and roll the dice and once again, I received Grade A treatment. I'm not going to mess with a good thing.

I wanted to run a picture with this entry so you could visualize my nice spotless vehicle so I did a Google Image search for light blue Honda Fits and on the first page, I found a car that looks just like mine with two young ladies who look remarkably like Chelsey and Hanna, my beautiful teacher's aides from three years ago. Wait- it is Chelsey and Hanna and my Honda Fit taken off my blog from three years ago within a week after I bought it- didn't even have the front license plate yet! We made Google Image....and they warned me it might be copyrighted! I'm not going to sue myself so I guess I'm safe. But, in retrospect, that's what I want  my car to look like but it can't anymore. It's three-plus years old and some careless folks around me in a variety of parking lots have left their calling card in small but noticeable to me ways. And still, I put on a good front with the fine folks at Discount Tire; maybe they won't notice so they'll think it's brand new even though they have all the car info and more importantly, they have eyes! I'm not much different when I look in the mirror. Do you think the Lord sees my flaws? Do you  think my co-workers and Christian sisters and brothers see them? Do you? Do you think the wonderful folks at Discount Tire do? Well, I know our Father in Heaven does and He still loves me, in spite of myself! He knows I'm dinged and imperfect and roughed up some by life but He still loves me! My car and its tires won't last forever but my soul most definitely will. And I don't need a contract to assure me that it's in good hands.

Applicable quote of the day:

"We're all human beings, but some of us are more sophisticated at covering our flaws. We're just smart enough to lie to ourselves that everything is OK."
Mehmet Oz

God bless,
Steve
Luke 18:1

The Plastic Present

 The Plastic Present

What do you call a gift that is never used? I try to make a spiritual application to this dilemma in this post from  December 20, 2006.

As I do each Christmas, I feel overwhelmed; people just keep giving me things. While I would never have thought to give a gift to a teacher or coach, the kids at our school have no such mental restriction. I did notice something today; all my gifts but one are from females so maybe that is the reason it never crossed my mind. My presents were a wide array of thoughtful gestures from ties to coffee cups, from an ice pack to a tea kettle, from candy to cookies. The newest trend in Christmas shopping is the gift card. I was the fortunate recipient of numerous cards from a wide variety of establishments:
McDonalds
Borders
Target
Macy's
Starbucks
Someone cared enough to purchase gift cards for me and bring more enjoyment into my life. There is one catch. The cards must be redeemed. They can sit in my billfold until they break in two but unless I actually use them for their intended purpose, the gifts are, in a sense, wasted. Would they still have been offered if the giver knew they would not be cashed in? Hurt feelings aside, it is a huge issue in the financial world. Economists estimate that six percent of the money on gift cards will never be cashed in, a figure that approaches $5 billion. Or put another way, roughly one dollar per person on earth currently that Jesus died for. He purchased the gift and He made the offer. We all make the decision to redeem this most precious present or leave it unclaimed for eternity. It's bought and paid for but there is an expiration day coming; we just don't know when it is. What's in your wallet?

Applicable quote of the day:
"Feeling gratitude and not expressing it is like wrapping a gift and not giving it." 
William Arthur Ward


God bless,
Steve
Luke 18:1

The Life Of Tom Tune

 The Life Of Tom Tune

My life was changed by the man pictured above. This is from February 6, 2013.
Tom Tune died yesterday. Many people talk about living; Tom lived. He did things and went places most of us only imagine. He dreamed dreams that came true and had visions which have come to pass. He changed lives on multiple continents and the ripples started by his wake could cover the oceans. Tom was unlike any missionary I've ever met but that's a limiting statement. Tom Tune was unlike any person I've ever met.

I was introduced to Tom roughly twenty years ago in Tennessee. His son, Mike, was my preacher and I taught his grandsons. At the time, Tom was doing mission work in a unique way. He sailed the Pacific Ocean in his boat, the Dorcas Sue, and as a self taught optician, prescribed glasses for the folks of the Cook Islands, teaching them about Jesus in the process. He came and spoke to my students at Friendship Christian School and after he went back to sea, the kids wrote him. Here's what's amazing: Tom wrote every child back and answered their questions in detail. We are talking close to 100 letters, mind you, but he was always faithful to respond. About ten years ago, Tom moved to Vietnam and settled in Can Tho where he established a church from scratch. He had mentioned my coming and helping him so in the summers of 2011 and 2012, I spent each month of July with Tom in Vietnam. What an experience! Although I'd been on fourteen previous missions, with one exception, all had been with a group. For the first time, I saw mission work on the ground floor. I witnessed the highs and lows, the encouragement and the heartbreak, and I learned lessons you don't absorb in a pew.

Tom could do about anything. He was a sailor, a ship builder, a tailor, a carpenter, a surveyor, and I'm sure there were other things  he never got around to telling me. He was educated in the Gospel but maybe more self educated than any minister I know. He knew more stories than anyone I've spent time with and he could go years without repeating. His overwhelming passion was that the work of the Lord in Vietnam would go on. He was well read on many topics but he had tunnel vision when it came to spreading the word of God in a difficult land for it to take root. He loved the kids in the church in Can Tho and he was their surrogate grandpa. He NEVER stopped thinking of ways to make the church in Can Tho grow stronger. I thought many of his ideas were impractical but maybe that's because my thinking is too much confined by reality and not by the possible guided by the hand of the Lord.

 I have a confession to make; sometimes, I'd get frustrated talking to Tom and I am sure I disagreed more with him than anybody I've ever talked to in my life. Maybe that's because I talked to him for extended periods more than anyone in my life. I rarely said anything about my feelings- my folks hammered respect for your elders into my psyche- but the funny thing is, I often came to see the logic of his logic. Tom was never neutral on any subject which makes me uncomfortable but I now wish I had a little more of that genetic makeup. Let me give an example. Once, when speaking to one of the wonderful girls in the church, I mentioned that she could help me learn Vietnamese. Tom told me in no uncertain terms that I wasn't there to pick up a second language- I was there so they could learn English from me. So they could do better in school. So they could get a better job. So they could make more money. So this church in its infancy could survive financially when he was gone. And now he's gone. Tears are being shed in this country and in Asia. But the work will go on because Tom very carefully put the pieces and young people in place for it to survive. Proverbs 29:18 tells us that,
Where there is no vision, the people perish.
The work in Can Tho won't perish; Tom took care of the vision part. But we're sure going to miss him on the journey he laid out for those he loved. When I left Can Tho on July 31, I told him I'd see him next summer. There's no more summers for Tom- but he got the best end of the deal. We just have to deal with the sorrow.

Applicable quote of the day:

"When a great man dies, for years the light he leaves behind him, lies on the paths of men."

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

God bless,

Steve
Luke 18:1

Basketball And M&M's

 Basketball And M&M's

In my twenty-seven years at Westbury Christian School, we have made incredible improvements to the physical plant. The following, from September 6, 2006, is about one of those changes for the better.

Today was the last time my middle school girls' basketball team will practice in our gym for five weeks. We are in the process of installing a new floor (WOOD!) which will cover our current rubber surface. The pallets of materials are already piled up on one end of the building so I am assuming they will start putting it down tomorrow. This is a very nice bunch of young ladies but we are in the very formative stages of learning how to play basketball. This morning we worked on a problem that plagues many young players. I heard a college coach say once that, "Dribbling is like M & M's; a couple are great but too much makes you sick." That is about as accurate an analogy as I can imagine. Dribbling is a very important skill in the game but many kids dribble way too much when they play. In our controlled three-on-three scrimmage this morning, our main rule was it is an automatic turnover if you dribble. We played twenty minutes and guess how many dribbles there were? None. I doubt we could have accomplished the same with boys in the same time frame. Boys play more than girls and often have more bad habits to break. So, how did we play today deprived of the dribble? It was the best practice playing-wise of so far. When you take away something which tends to be a crutch, which dribbling is to most youngsters, you are forced to play the game in the purer form of passing and cutting. We had a very good practice.

We all have crutches in life. There are tendencies we fall back on in times of crisis because they are comfortable. It might be a habit. It could be a person or a destructive relationship. I know little about addictions but it seems that addicts revert to known behavior in times of stress. That's what kids do in basketball. They dribble because they feel like they have to do something and the most logical thing to do is to bounce the round ball. You have to break the habit. It's much easier in a game than it is in life. I can be the discipline with the kids in practice but in the real world, it has to come from within. Hebrews 12:1 instructs us to, "throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles." It's easier to throw it off when we catch it in its early stages BEFORE it starts entangling. That's why I like coaching kids who have never played before. You can sidetrack potential problems in their games in the infancy stages. I guess I'm their basketball parent who tries to mold his children much like a biological parent will guide his/her child. The good thing is, I don't have to save up for their college!


Applicable quote of the day:
"There are a whole bunch of dribbling drills but my complaint with some of them is they aren't connected to the actual skill and situation in a game."
Pete Carril/ Basketball coach at Princeton University


God bless,
Steve
Luke 18:1