Got any spare change?

My son is an ad marketing guy's dream come true.

Ever since he was able to open his eyes and say, "T.V."...my son has been in love with ads. Each thing that comes on in a 30 second commercial becomes our home's 'gotta have this!' item.

It's more than a little annoying.

His latest thing is the Jakk's Eye Clops Bionic Eye. Have you seen this? It is a magnifier that hooks up to your t.v., allowing you to check things out in 200x magnification...(whatever THAT means!) and change how you look at things. Hm....changes how you look at things. You know what?

I could use some change! Or could I?? The past couple of days I've been in a bit of a funk...and while I must admit that part of it could be the time change...and the change in temperatures here...and the change in my schedule...one thing that really needs to change is my perspective.

I'm really good at noticing the negative. What's not clean...what's not new...what's not finished...what's not paid for....what's not working...what's not right. Focusing 200x on what is wrong...and feeling pretty crummy about it. "I don't want to do this....I don't want to deal with this person right now....I don't want to be in this place!"

I'm not much fun to be around.

That's not who I want to be! I want to have a positive outlook! I want to get rid of that negativity before it strangles me and chokes the good right out of me!

So....where to begin?

The Serenity Prayer (for those of you who are not familiar with it) says this: GOD....grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change...courage to change the things I can...and wisdom to know the difference.

Okay...got that.

It goes on to say this: Living one day at a time...enjoying one moment at a time...accepting hardships as the pathway to peace. Taking...as He did...this sinful world as it is...not as I would have it.

Hm....

Taking things as they are...not as I would have them. Do I do that? Do you do that? What happens when we do that?

Acceptance....and peace.

And understand...this part comes AFTER the first part. Knowing what's in your control and what's not in your control...scrutinizing things...checking them out...but also to live one day at a time...enjoy one moment at a time...so your perspective isn't skewed...so you're not magnifying only the negative things and never seeing the positives.

My friends...we can't change people. We can't change the fact that the band concerts we have to attend as parents will be overcrowded...and hot...and seem to take forever! We can't trade in our mother in laws...or make our sons eat their vegetable soup.

(those are all hypothetical situations...really!) (snort!)

You know what? I was so annoyed about having to go to the concert...that I didn't hear the 7th grade band music!! I was so focused on myself...and the negative...that it was difficult to see the beauty...to hear the melody that was playing all around me...(even if it was by 7th graders!).

However...when we can change our perspective and appreciate the moment for what it is...when we take a breath and say, "Okay. This is NOT where I want to be...but this is where I am...so help me to appreciate it for what it's worth!"...we might find it's not so bad.

And actually hear the 8th grade chorus.

Acceptance and peace. I'd like those magnified 200x. How 'bout you?

So long as you don't make a habit out of it!!

George Costanza: Jerry, just remember, it's not a lie if you believe it.

I just watched an episode of Monk. At one point Monk tells his therapist, "Actors make their living telling lies." And the therapist says, "Maybe actors are really telling the truth." And Monk shoots him this look...it's priceless.

Was it my four college learning years of theatre that taught me the fine art of lying?

Nope.

And you know what?

It's funny...my face tells the truth...even when my mouth does not. Just watch me sometime! It's like I can't really help myself. I'll tell you...for four years of college...intensive theatrical training...I got no poker face whatsoever...sigh.

"Do you like this shirt, Carrie?"

(Frowny face from me...I take a deep breath...run my tongue across my teeth...tilt my head)

"It's great."

(nnoo...no it is NOT great! It's an awful color! It's the wrong style for her body type! WHY DID YOU LIE TO HER?!)

"That's what she wanted me to say."

And the quote? From Seinfeld? George is a PRO at lying. Why? Because he BELIEVES THE LIE!

And that's where you can get into trouble, my friends...when you believe the lie. And good liars always find some way to believe the lie...

I think for us girls it's tough. We're taught at a very early age to be 'nice' to people...and that means learning tact. Except that sometimes...that idea of tact is coupled with 'white lies'...like the one I mentioned above...where no one is really "hurt" by the comment of ,'That shirt's great!"

The problem comes with practice. Once you begin telling lies...you can have a hard time stopping. They're so convenient! They can stop conflict from happening...they can keep you from getting grounded by your parents...they can make other people feel good about their blouse purchases...

I mean, where's the harm in that??

Just recently, I had a situation happen to me where I was asked a question. It was not a hard question to answer...but I knew my response wasn't the answer that the person wanted to hear. And I found myself fighting against that so much...that I said something really mundane...and left the room...without actually answering the question.

Although, I think that I DID actually answer the question...by not answering it...and I'm not convinced that was right either...but at least I didn't LIE. And that habit (because YES...it becomes a habit!) is one I've been working on for some time now...

Sometimes, my friends...hard things need to be said. Thinking that avoiding a difficult conversation by lying isn't really helpful. Not at all...

And don't even get me started on believing the lies that others tell you...that's a subject for another time.

Stop lying. Tell the truth. Mark Twain said that it's better to tell the truth...that way you don't have to remember anything later...

That's some good advice right there. And I'm not lying...

Is your trust rusty??

Spring should be here by now.

At least that's my opinion. I went out to the garage the other day and saw my bike. I'm looking forward to getting on it as soon as the weather's better.

There was a time in my life that I didn't care if I ever saw a bike again!

I was five years old. I had this cute red two-wheeler with training wheels. We lived out on the farm and I would ride the bike up and down the sidewalk a lot...as well as occasionally in the driveway. It was a gravel driveway, though...and hard to ride on. Well, for someone without much bike experience.

I don't remember the exact day...but I do remember my Dad saying something about it being time for them to come off...and my bike got a wheel job. The training wheels were taken off.

"Time to learn to ride the bike without them," he said. I followed him (and my bike) to the driveway.

"Without training wheels, you need to learn to balance yourself on the bike," he said. "You can do this. I'll help you."

I got on the bike. No big deal. I'd done it a thousand times before.

It felt funny, though....the bike seemed to want to lean to one side or the other...Dad was holding onto the back of my seat, though...so I was okay.

I began pedaling.

"Go faster!" Dad said. I did.

He let go. I went about three feet and landed. There in the gravel. On my side. Ow.

"Get back on." He said. "You can do this."

No! I didn't want to do this. "Put the wheels back on!" I cried. "I can't ride my bike like this!"

"You have to learn balance. Get back on and try again."

I looked at him skeptically. I looked at the bike skeptically. I didn't really trust either one.

"Will you hang on this time?" I asked.

"I will." He said.

He lied.

Another three or four feet or so...another attempt at balance that landed me in the rocks.

He had let go of my seat.

I sat there, skinned knees and all...and cried. I had trusted him to hang on!

"Get up!" he said. "You went a lot farther that time! You can do this!"

"I don't want to ride the bike anymore!" I said.

"I promise I'll hang on this time. Just get back on."

My gut told me that he was lying. I mean, c'mon...I was five. I knew how the world worked! Still, he was big. He knew more than me. Right?

I got back on. He let go. I went flying down the driveway...and fell again. He was right. I was going farther each time...but still falling on my side. And still getting hurt. Bike riding was no longer fun for me.

Each time I fell off, he said, "Get back on." I'd balk. I didn't trust him.

"I'll hold on." He'd claim. But he always let go at some point.

It was a hard afternoon. But...by the end of it...I knew how to ride a bike without training wheels. And wow...it was fun! Really fun! The breeze in my hair...ahhh...nothing like it.

When I first thought about this as an entry...this idea of TRUST...I wanted a little more information. So I went to Dictionary.com and...

because I was not quite awake...

I typed in 'RUST' by mistake.



RUST...(in the for what it's worth dept.), is "any growth, habit, influence, or agency tending to injure, deteriorate, or impair the mind, character, abilities, usefulness, etc."



TRUST...(on the other hand), is "reliance on the integrity, strength, ability, surety, etc., of a person or thing; confidence. Confidence implies even more sureness; this may be shown as undisturbed calm."



Hm...injury...and undisturbed calm. interesting. You know what?



Sometimes my trust is rusty.



Somehow...through a bad habit...or a bad influence...I'll let something eat through my trust...causing it to be injured...or to deteriorate...thus impairing my abilities and my usefulness...and my character.



Trust does not come easy for me though. Especially when I've been lied to...or disappointed by someone close to me.



Trust is like...like...learning to ride a bike without training wheels.

Eventually, through some pain...and practice...you CAN get to that place where you're riding with undisturbed calm. You're going to fall down, my friends...and you're going to need to get back on. Right away.

It's worth it though. Trust is better than rust.

Spring...get here quickly.

Just this once...

Looking back on it now...it just wasn't one of the smartest things I've ever done.

Oh...it wasn't an awful thing, I guess...but would I do it again?

The jury's still out on that one. I just don't know.

6th grade year.

Like a lot of folks new to jr. high, I experienced several 'firsts' that year. New school. New braces on my teeth. New class schedule of moving from room to room. I had just been put into a 'high' math class, ...which meant I was just smarter than the 'average' student...and I had my first real 'punishment' at school.

BUT it wasn't my fault!

Seriously!

I was just trying to help her out, that's all!

At PJHS, there was a punishment known as "The Curb", and certain bad behaviors warranted time spent on "The Curb".

The Curb was just the section of sidewalk across the street from the 'playground' area of the jr. high. The sidewalk there was separated into these big squares, and those students who misbehaved were just sent to "The Curb" and got the honor of just sitting in one of those squares for all of lunchtime recess...no big deal. Except that just all of your classmates could see you and know that you screwed up.

Whoever thought it up was just a genius. There is nothing more effective a punishment (for some of us anyways!) than to be seen by your peers 'doing time'...and there is no better time to embarrass kids in front of their peers than jr. high.

I ended up on The Curb. And I've never forgotten it...

Let me say that, again, my intentions were good! I was not a bad kid. I did not misbehave in school. In fact, I would say that I went the other way...and was the 'teacher's pet' most of the time.

I just made a mistake, that's all.

One fateful day...in a moment of weakness...I found myself having to justify my actions in front of Mr. Geerken....or Mr. G., as I like to call him.

He was not a pushover. He did not 'kid around' much with the students. In fact, in the 6th grade, I'd say he was the 'toughest' teacher we had. Mr. Jones was very kind...Mr. Lee was really funny...and Mr. G. was...not those things.

He was just Mr. G.

And he was a very good teacher. And, like most good teachers, he taught me WAY more than just math and science.

As I said, I was in the high math class. If you asked me why I was in high math I would tell you that I had no clue! I was just a good student...who did homework as requested...and didn't cause trouble.

And yet...I still made it to The Curb.

That fateful day I was approached by a gal named Gina. I wasn't really great friends with Gina, but she had come to my slumber party when I turned 12...so she was okay.

Gina just had one small problem. She hadn't done her homework. For her math class. For our math class.

She was worried. She was scared. It was Mr. G's class, after all...and you knew that he wouldn't be kind...wouldn't be funny...wouldn't understand.

She had a problem. And she came to me, just asking for my help.

She wanted to copy my homework. It was one page of math...what would it hurt? This one time...just this once...could she copy my work?

I saw the pain in her face...the fear in her eyes. I took pity on her. And began to justify my actions right then. It was a good thing to do...to help out a friend...in a time of need. I couldn't see the harm of letting her copy one sheet of math...one time.

Could you? I mean, c'mon...no big deal...

However, for me, later that same day...it became a very.big.deal.

I can still see the sunshine coming through the windows of Mr. Lee's room where I had social studies...while Gina had science. In Mr. G's room.

Where she was furiously copying my homework.

Near the end of my class, there was a knock on Mr. Lee's door. And he answered it. And there was Mr. G...wanting to talk to me.

Just ME!

The whole class looked at me in shock! In disbelief! What had I done wrong? I, who never did anything wrong at school...had to speak with Mr. G...and he...

he did not look happy.

Oh, he never really looked happy. But he looked even less happy on this particular day.

The day the sunshine left the room in a hurry.

The day that I...I...would be sentenced to just sit on The Curb.

I shakily got up out of my desk...and the next few moments were a blur. I remember going into Mr. G's room...and sitting down. It was just us. Just the two of us.

He showed me a paper. It was my math homework. He had caught Gina copying it in science class. She was getting a zero for her homework for that day.

I was getting...The Curb.

BUT I HADN'T DONE ANYTHING WRONG!

I cried. Gina didn't have to sit on The Curb! Gina didn't have to be humiliated in front of her peers! Stupid Gina...who didn't even have enough sense to do her own stupid homework! She wasn't in trouble!

IT WASN'T FAIR!

I was being sentenced to the curb for Gina's mistake. If she hadn't copied my homework in science class...if she had been smart and done it in Mr. Jones' reading class...she NEVER would have gotten caught...and I wouldn't be sentenced to The Curb!

Mr. G. quietly explained to me why Gina wasn't going to The Curb...but I was. I wasn't helping her by letting her copy my paper. She wasn't learning anything from that. You see, he said, you're smarter than she is...you need to understand that letting someone cheat off of your homework is not a good idea. Letting her off the hook of doing her homework doesn't teach her math...so you're going to The Curb. That will help her more than letting her cheat.

"How does my being punished teach her anything?" I wondered. Mr. G. explained that he had told Gina what my punishment was...and that if she did it again, she'd be the one on The Curb.

So...that was it. My punishment for being helpful. Gina screwed up...but I just took her place. On The Curb.

The next day, I sat there...in my square, in the sunshine...and morosely glared at the students on the other side of the road...who were enjoying their recess time...and I was teased by some of them, "Hey, Carrie! You must've done something pretty stupid to end up on The Curb! Something REALLY BAD!"

I turned my head away to ignore them. I put my chin in my hands, my elbows on my knees...and sat there for 38 minutes. 38 of the longest minutes of my life. Taking a punishment that I felt I did not deserve. Because I had only wanted to help. To just help someone. And this was Mr. G's answer. His idea of help. And did Gina really understand? Did Gina realize the sacrifice I was making for her?

It did not make sense. But I was a good student. I obeyed my teacher. I quietly took my punishment of The Curb.

And life went on...

My Friends...there is Someone who has taken your place on The Curb. Someone who has sat with Mr. G...and been found guilty for your wrongdoing. And no matter how much one reasons that He didn't do anything to deserve it...He still obeys. He takes your punishment.

Think about that today. Just this once...

Da Do Ron Ron Ron Da Do Ron Ron...

He had the ability to take my breath away.

And, to be honest, if I ever get the chance to meet him...why, I'll probably just faint dead away...right there on the spot.

Who, you ask? Who could have that kind of effect on me?

The President?

No....

Donald Trump?

(snort!) Hardly.

Well....who, C.? Don't leave us hangin'!!

Fine. I'll tell you. Promise not to laugh?

It's....it's....Shaun Cassidy.

Yeah...I know. I know!

(hey....I thought you promised not to laugh!)

When I was ten years old....he became the ONLY thing I thought about.

Seriously. I started getting those teen magazines...and I watched "The Hardy Boys" religiously. I'm not kidding. I've even got some of the shows on VHS to prove it. I wrote my first 'fan letter' to Shaun...and got a picture back in the mail! It was the coolest thing!

At eleven...I could tell you his favorite color...his birthday (Sept. 27, 1958...ONLY 10 years older than me! I mean, that's not alot!)

...what kind of pet he had...how many brothers...I knew all the statistics...

At twelve...I wore my hair like his...I had a Shaun Cassidy puzzle that I could put together in like .0058 seconds...and I had a 45 of his song, "That's Rock n Roll". And at thirteen, I had two of his albums!! He was my life!

(And don't you even ask me what a 45 is...sigh...)

Some called my interest...um....devoted. Some would say....obsessive.

Some thought I was silly. Or dumb. Or crazy!

Had you asked me about it...I would have told you that I loved him. Simple as that. He was all I thought about...well, that is....if you didn't include Donny Osmond...

You see, I loved Donny almost as much. And then Matt Dillon came along...and Scott Baio...and Leif Garrett...and OH! MY! GOODNESS! Andy Gibb!!!

Wow!

Shaun had the most lasting effect on me, however. He still remained WAY up there...my walls in my room were covered with him. He was the first thing I thought of in the morning...and the last thing I thought of when I went to sleep.

I idolized Shaun. Er....and Andy...and Timothy Hutton...and C. Thomas Howell...and Chris Atkins....and....and!!!! The more of them I 'loved'...the more covered and cluttered my walls got...the more distracted I became...

Is there anything that you think of ALL THE TIME? Oh, maybe it's not Shaun Cassidy. Maybe for you it's....money. Or football. Or work. Or computer games. Maybe it's a hobby. Maybe it's exercise. Maybe it's yourself that you think of all the time...

My Friends, there is only One we should be hyper-focused on...there is only One who deserves all of our attention. I encourage you to learn all you can about Him...write Him a fan letter...

Spend some quality time thinking of Him today. Hey! You know what? You could even put His picture on your wall!!

You Gotta Go There!

Yesterday I spoke with someone who'd just been to Hawaii on vacation.

Reading that sentence, I realize that it's a little redundant.

I mean, DUH! Hawaii....vacation. Hello, C.! Why else would someone be in Hawaii?

I suppose there are those lucky folks who go there on business....but what it got me to thinking about was this:

Do the folks who live in Hawaii think it's as beautiful as those who visit? Or do they just take it for granted?

I haven't been to Hawaii. I'd like to go sometime. It's one of the 'warmer' areas actually on my 'potential vacation list'. Everyone who's been there has good things to say about it. And they always say, "YOU GOTTA GO THERE!"

Could you really get tired of beautiful sunsets, and breezy beaches....and colorful scenery? I mean, is there a point where you don't even see those things anymore...that they don't impact you like they did that very. first. time. you. saw. them.

When I was 17 years old, we went to Colorado on vacation. And the mountains were incredible! I remember thinking, "I will never get tired of looking at the mountains!" Each morning that we were there, I'd get up...and when I looked out a window...there they were! Just as incredible! Every morning...never got tired of 'em...

I'm not so sure that I've ever said that about cornstalks. I mean, let's face it, Illinois has got a LOT of cornstalks...

so...that leads me to ask the question:

Are there Hawaiians on vacation in Illinois....who feel like they would never get tired of looking at corn?

SNORT!!

(giggling hysterically here!)

heeheehee....maybe....heeheehee....ah...that's funny to think about.

Here's another thing:

There's a saying, "Grow where you are planted."

Now, this may sound corny....(HA HA...bad pun intended!)....but think about this: So many of us want to go somewhere else and impact people...whether it's starving children in Africa...or the homeless in New York...that we neglect the idea that there are people ALL AROUND US that could use our help. Our assistance. People that are less than a mile away from us...are folks who urgently need us.

Look around your little world today. Consider how you can grow where you are.

And don't take the beauty around you for granted either. Make an effort to appreciate it! Isn't it just a-maize-ing? (I know...that's a reach...even for me! Sorry!)

Now...who wants to Hula with me??? Anyone?

Carry me, Daddy!

When I was little, I remember faking sleep in the car so that my Dad would carry me into the house. Did you ever do that? Eyes scrunched tight....sometimes even a little smile on my face...like I was fooling someone. Well....sometimes it worked, right?

I also remember that, as I aged, that trick did not work as often. Until, finally, it didn't work at all. It didn't matter how tired I was, I had to get out and walk into the house by myself. Why? Because I was 'too big to carry'...I was growing up.

Sometimes I really miss being carried, you know? That feeling of weightlessness...of bouncing along with my head on Dad's shoulder, smelling his aftershave. It was comforting...safe...there was security there. Nothing to worry or think too hard about...just being taken care of...tucked into bed...to dream...

Being a 'big girl' though....walking tiredly into the house...your feet feeling like they've got concrete blocks attached to them...is not as pleasant a recollection. Makes me exhausted just recalling it.

In fact, I think that's how I felt this afternoon. Tired...heavy...just wishing my Dad would carry me into the house...just this once. Feeling like Atlas, with the weight of the world upon my shoulders. Feeling alone.

We grow up so fast, don't we?! We become the parents who carry in the kids, perhaps...we have responsibilities...duties...it's all part of the package....

How do you recharge your battery? How do you rejuvenate yourself when all you want to do is fake sleep so your Dad will carry you? How do you handle it?

I remember holding my Dad's hand sometimes as we went into the house. Being pulled along by him. Oh, it wasn't the same as being carried...but it was better than walking alone.

You are not alone, My Friend...there is Someone who will hold your hand when you're weary...and if you really are exhausted from the journey...He'll even carry you.

You know what? Remembering that makes me feel better!

And you know what else? I think I smell aftershave...do you??