Memorial Day 2021

the most shocking sense about the death of another is the finality of it. it is total absence, with no scents nor sounds. Once there was a presence, now there is no substance. and like a an old pressed flower, it fades, though the pages against which it has rested may have an imprint, left upon another, even when it is gone.

we know you were here, and our memories do not betray us. though they gray with the age of time, the imprint remains within us, even if it is muddied a bit by a dreary rain. we may even forget the face, until we have to glance at a photograph to bring clarity to that muddied imprint.

we who remain behind grapple with a transition that took no amount of time, as they passed from material to another realm, while we remain gaping at the shell, dumbstruck by the lack of movement…

some may find solace in knowing that there is no warmth remaining.

some may find solace in leaving no expression left inside.

and some may find solace in choosing to remain inconsolable, as if the one who died was solely responsible for leaving those who remained.

they are gone. we are here. how we incorporate that finality into the fabric of our hearts is our journey. it is not really their memorial, they have no need for it. it is ours.

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choose this day

the past two years have been needlessly negative. if you choose to write, read, or listen to material that leads you to a state of obsessive reclusiveness, as a covidian, you should probably read someone else’s blog, because i will not share in your desire to spread fear.

The One I follow spread unselfish love, not fear. He dealt in reality, not in a fantasy world where facts are meaningless and feelings are equal with “your own little reality world.” Life is so much more tiring having to listen to windbags whine about Doomsday over a plague with a 99% survival rate….you’d think we were living in the 13th century dealing with the Bubonic Plague.

i am done with the control freaks who cover their faces like repressed slaves

i am done with the losers who bow down to the godless medi-elite and hang on every word they say as they constantly change their minds every week

i am done with the soviet-era propaganda visible everywhere

no more negative. no more fear. no more lies.

i choose love, which has no room for fear. i choose life, which has no room for destruction. i choose freedom, which has no room for slavery.

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One more time round the ice rink

it’s fun to watch the neighborhood outside my window this morning. not because i am having fun, but because none of us is having fun. at least yesterday i was able to clear the driveway. today, i cannot stand up in the driveway.

the world looks like an ice planet, everything below eight feet from the ground covered in a glazing of ice. forget about trying to get anywhere, nobody is going anywhere….except for the snow plow. after several attempts, the street looks like what a two-year old trying to ice his birthday cake- icing everywhere, and nothing makes any sense.

our power is on, in this backward part of the American states, so at least we are not dependent on wind generators that were destined to freeze up in such a storm. At least I can watch reruns of the Red Green Show and learn a few handyman tricks to keep the ice from invading my house. But, my thoughts and prayers are with those who have to suffer because of someone’s short-sightedness.

my own common sense took a hit earlier when i tried to navigate the path to the shed and found myself skating….on the forecheck…against the unseen enemy. Like a Newfie at a time zone conference, I felt something was drastically off. Looking down, the ice that was there yesterday was underneath a sheathing of today’s ice. the ice from three days ago melted and now formed a new ice border, like a rink, on either side of my driveway. Sure, we could suit up and play a game of ice hockey, if we had any skates, but none of us olde guys around here could keep our sticks on the ice…

so, if you are stuck inside too, and you are bored, you might ask the Lord for a reprieve from this endless winter Hallmark movie, so we can get outside and get something done. And, if you’re up in the Land of Perpetual Snow and Ice and you want some more of this stuff….so your rink is really nice, you can ask the Lord to send it up there. I’m sure we won’t miss it. So, go on. Already. Please. Pretty please.

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Love is a prayer

Nine Years on WordPress today! Help me celebrate by reading a timeless post from 2012.

the lostkerryman

I remember being unemployed, spending my days and nights looking for work, eating hot dogs and pre-packaged burritos. And, I remember times when I had no money…and times when I felt so broken that my heart pulled inside my chest. And, I remember times when people sought to destroy me because of my faith…and when I was in the midst of these troubles, there were many who told me- “I’ll pray for you-” and never meant it.

It would have been better if they had never said anything at all. For committing to pray for someone requires a conscious effort to set aside time to seek God. That, in itself, is admitting that you are willing to open yourself up to a heart inspection from the Divine. It is a terrible- and a beautiful- thing- to kneel in the presence of an Almighty God- terrible, because nothing is hidden from…

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The Reluctant Duodenum

there’s a boatload of argument about pineapple in this world- for some it is a nasty, overly sweet tropical disaster waiting to stick between your teeth and cause your blood sugar to spike, for others it is the best friend of your delightful little duodenum, that funnel where all the food goes down on the way to AdventureLand. Pineapple contains bromelain, which is a word I often misspell or mispronounce, especially when suddenly and without warning, my mind starts thinking in French. The duodenum loves bromelain because it helps break down the Chicken Korma from that Chef Tandoori meal you ate that tasted more like the container than real curry. The duodenum adores bromelain after you gorged yourself on chips, french onion dip, and coca cola at 1 o’clock in the morning while watching Godzilla Versus The Swamp Monster. But, the duodenum absolutely jumps for joy when bromelain rushes to the scene of that kitchen nightmare heading down your long and winding road…rushing through your body on a one-way ticket to the toilet bowl…

Bromelain seems like a really good idea for those of us who like to have a clean colon. As you know, a clean colon is a happy colon. But while bromelain can be found in pineapple, eating pineapple everyday can be detrimental for those more intestinally-challenged among us. This is why a bottle of bromelain tablets from the health food/natural food/holistic food establishment can provide the bromelain our body wants…and needs…to fend off the gurgles within, and provide one’s inner workings with a beneficial healing agent.

Back in the day, when papaya was cheaper here, my primary source of bromelain came from a diet rich in this wonderful fruit. But, not being in a region where it grew, my habit became a bit pricey when other people finally discovered papaya, and suddenly, people were cutting up little chunks, and sticking them in fruit salads…so, pineapple became the cheaper alternative.

Now I am not, nor have ever been, a doctor, but I have lived enough decades that I can get a senior discount from an 18 year old in the drive thru who thinks I am a “really old man.” That being said, I believe you will find sage advice in combating digestive discomfort by employing the use of bromelain tablets or eating a healthy regimen of pineapple and/or papaya. I have found this beneficial in combating the gurgles and bloating associated with eating items the intestines consider foreign objects. In my travels, I have consumed many of these adventurous foods with less destruction than before my bromelain regimen.

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respect all

today, while i was shopping at a local supermarket, i was verbally accosted by an employee who spouted off propaganda like a fascist, threatening to have me thrown out of her employer’s store because of my religion.

i live in the USA. Freedom of religion is enshrined in our constitution.

Her employer, her manager, has no problems with kicking out Christians because he also does not like what they believe. I heard it from his very mouth.

Of course, I may never shop at that store again. They may never get another penny of my income. And, that would be fine. Except…

This same store has a set of posted “Company Morals,” including one that demands their employees “respect all.”

How do you respect all when you discriminate against Christians?

You don’t. You’re a hypocrite.

Welcome to the USA, 2021 edition…and a crooked and perverse generation.

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Thanks to all my viewers (readers) from far and wide….

Thelostkerryman just hit the 10,000 view mark!

Unfortunately, yours truly is recovering from another surgery, so it may be a week or so before I post again.

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Thank You

If we were in a B Movie, we would still say the plot has been substandard. The acting… downright poor…with shoddy sets…and painful dialogue. Nothing is predictable except that the next chapter will be even more ludicrous than the previous one.

which is why i am grateful…in a time when having an ulcer might be more enjoyable than perusing some websites…that WordPress has continued to be a stalwart defender of general discourse, detailed discourse, and civil discourse. the same cannot be said for every purveyor of discourse, especially those who have removed sanity from their stated parameters.

if you have not already done so, support wordpress by continuing to read, write, and share the best from this site…from those of us who have been here for years, to the ones just discovering the surface of this new world for themselves.

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Musings at Christmas

this time of year sometimes ushers in nostalgia…that lamppost with the flickering light bulb…while we are stuck inside in the midst of a snowstorm lasting days. the last wild wind whirled in about six inches of the fine, fluffy stuff, outside my foggy door, while i was sleeping off a Christmas Eve feast of Hershey’s finest.

in the evening of the blessed day, in the fine tradition of my economically depressed descendants, I whipped up a feast of potatoes and baked fish for the fete of the holy night…and sat down to enjoy the sounds of silence, and the occasional settling of the old arthritic house.

it must have been the same in years prior….though their potatoes knew the pungent turf fire, and mine were a mere mixture of the boiled spud and a slathering of butter. fish would have been fresh, while mine were as frozen as a chunk of Antarctica before the scorching heat of an oven made them palatable.

still, a kindred fire burned within my heart. i had walked some of the same earth, through some of the same space, though today i was far from them, and farther from that space.

so…as it was that i was pondering upon these things, the world outside my window settled more softly in my mind. three days stuck inside a house with two bags of frozen fish, several potatoes, and enough orange juice for a shipload of scurvy-mad sailors, is certainly not a disappointment. i had three lights, a row of good books to read, and heat- though not a warm turf fire- in my living room, and a comfortable chair to settle into while waiting for the sun to melt the snows.

sure, i still might prefer the turf fire over my shiny oven. i still might prefer the wait, as i was telling stories of tales of long ago to my loved ones gathered around the fire. i still might prefer the aroma of the iron kettle baking, the peat smoke rising. and i still might even prefer the old wooden chair by the fire…for awhile.

but after a time i would long for the comfortable…for the present, because wherever i am, wherever you are, is always the present, and we belonged to that, no matter how much we think of the past.

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the end of 2020

can i get a choir of non-angelic creatures to sing a chorus celebrating the coming demise of 2020? one more year of this kind of senseless torture…that i cannot imagine. can we just round up the bad actors and send them all to the Romulan Neutral Zone now…

next year, we should just skip January. I mean, who would notice? nobody makes any money in January anyway, unless they are running a ski resort…so why not start with February?

we could start the whole year on Valentine’s Day. Does anybody even remember the first part of February? Most of the time in my neck of the woods, our necks are frozen solid from January 1st to February 13th. We simply cannot move them. When my truck skids on a hockey-rink-thick slick of ice, i simply cannot, will not, turn my neck to see my progress. if I am in a snow bank, that’s grand too because i can always build an igloo…without turning my head. who cares what happens on ice? we have better things to do….like wait for Valentine’s Day.

Then, we could have a Chocolate Friday the weekend after Valentine’s Day. The following Monday could be Reese’s Monday, because…nothing goes better with old melted-down chocolate than peanut butter. With such a kickstart of love, we should be ready to rocket into the “New Year.”

There is precedence for this. Somewhere in the middle of the deep dark Middle Ages, the pope changed the calendar, and gave everyone a jumpstart into the year. Skipping January and part of February would likewise give us an excuse to forget about the plague of insanity birthed in 2020, so we could go back to living Our Best Medieval Life….I mean Our Best Life Now.

But….in order for this to work…we must be in this together. No one can get out of bed in January and early February…except to gorge themselves on ramen noodles to prepare for more hibernation, after “releasing the kraken” to the white porcelain goddess. Since a huge swath of the first world (and the darkest 3rd world) will have endured endless days wearing face masks, no one will be able to smell us until we are released from our quarantine cocoons as dawn arises on Valentine’s Day.

This will also ensure that faithful men everywhere will shower or bathe prior to enjoying the company of their women, as the great New New Year’s Day begins with celebrations of roses, chocolates, and other sweet aromas.

I cannot think of a more appropriate way to say goodbye and good riddance to one of the worst years in the history of the world…

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