I have had no meaningful thoughts go through my head, consequently, I have written nothing. My thoughts have been taken over by the urgency of the tasks I need to complete each day. Now that I have begun to work in another city and there is but 2 or 3 weeks of school left, my days and thoughts have been reduced to prioritized lists of daily activities. I'll be glad when school is over for the summer. I may take the summer off to recover. I think I'm too old to push myself like I used to, and even if I'm not, it's not worth it.
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Stripping Away the Old Finish

This week already has been one of many hard lessons. I was reading a book last night by Thomas Weeks III; his idea was this: If you hired a contractor to refinish your fine hardwood floors, he wouldn't just put varnish over what you had.... you would expect him to strip off the old varnish and sand the floors down to their bare, natural state. He would then have to carefully fill any cracks and repair gouges, loose boards, etc., before he started the finishing process. My experience has been that it takes lots of work, preparation and several coats of finish to make a floor look right.
God does the same thing with us. He strips us down to what he originally created, fills in our rough places, heals our wounds, and nails down the "loose boards"... It is a process, and sometimes a painful one. I was frustrated last night because , once again, I find myself in a struggle with something that has always been a struggle for me. And once again, God is taking off the old, dirty, scarred finish from my life, stripping me down to the bare original creation, so he can refinish me, layer by layer.
The process of growth into prosperity is one of being willing to have yourself restored. God is always willing. We are the hindrance., especially when we try to do it ourselves. Reading "how-to" and self help books or even listening to sermon after sermon gives us information, but ultimately, it comes down to submitting ourselves to a Holy Father, laying down our flesh and allowing Him to change us, one layer at a time.

"For we are God's workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do." Eph 2:10

Free Dog

"Cuddles" Free to good home. Gentle with children, great lapdog.

We had to recently "adopt-out" our pit chihuahua/dingo mix. Linda couldn't stand her any more. For that matter, none of us could stand her any more. She had a brain the size of a pea and the intelligence of a rock. Phoebe was constantly tearing something up...didn't matter what it was... It could be plants, sticks, charcoal briquettes, a shoe, a toy, or whatever else got within her reach. She was particularly fond of my daughter's panties... the crotch especially.
I put a flyer up with her picture on it and gave her away within an hour. She really was a cute dog, and I'm sure someone with energy and time could make her into a good pet. But she didn't fit into this family. I will never have another little dog for a pet. I'll stick to beagles.
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Michael Shaivo has a wicked heart. I am still horrified over the death of this poor woman, Terry Shaivo. I can't imagine why, in America, we could stand by and let this happen. She was murdered, and cruelly so. There's NO WAY she could have passed away "beautifully and peacefully" as his (Michael's) slime, low-life attorney kept saying. I watched my dad die.....his death was quick, but he still suffered. Death is NOT an easy process. It's NOT like the movies, where they just close their eyes and stop. Had it not been for all the morphine in Dad, I'm sure it would have been even more painful for him. And if it was so peaceful and Terry had no pain, why were the hospice people giving her morphine?
I guess all this surrounds the issue of whether or not a spouse should have the say in whether or not the other spouse should be "allowed" to die. Who has that power except God? We have an out of control, unaccountable judiciary who has ignored congress and even our President, who represent THE PEOPLE. Michael Shaivo had already broken his covenant vows with his wife and had UNFAITHFULLY, SELFISHLY, and SHAMEFULLY taken another. He is an adulterer, a cheat, and a murderer. I believe he gave up all rights when he broke his marriage vows. I want to know: what would have been so bad about letting her LIVE??? All he had to do was let her go and give her back to her parents, who were more than happy to take on the responsibility of taking care of her.
So now the courts are deciding who is fit to live and who should die by starvation. This was NOT a matter of just disconnecting a life support system on a person that was about to die, who was being kept alive only by artificial means. She could have well lived another 15 years or more, and possibly been rehabilitated to a point of talking and eating on her own. She was starved to death! My God.....it took her 14 days to die! Can you imagine? That's how long it would take a HEALTHY person to survive if they did not eat or drink. This was an unnecessary and barbaric death. It was a murder, legalized by an arrogant judge.
What's to say, if I had a stroke, and was paralyzed from the neck down, and Linda had to feed me because I was unable to do it myself.... and say she got tired of doing that....or the state wouldn't pay for my care because I was deemed a "burden".... can the court now say, "Stop feeding him..."?????? "He can't take care of himself any longer, he's a vegetable, he's sub-human...."
Scary thought, but not that far from reality. I remember the stupid, useless and humanistic scenario we did in high school once.... We had to pretend we were in a group of people; a lawyer, a priest, a mother, an old person, a child, an architect, and a janitor..... then we had to imagine we were marooned on an island with limited food and only enough for all but one person....so who would have to die? I can't believe we actually had to discuss this and I thought then, just as I do now, that the exercise was one of the most useless and barbaric discussions we ever had. I think I got sent to the office for my "intolerance." Freaking * )(%@#!@#$_ liberal teacher. It was she that was intolerant.
I hope I am never faced with having to take care of someone I love that is in a situation like that. I think about my sister, who endured much suffering and pain when her husband had to overcome damage caused by surgery of a tumor attached to his brain stem. He lost all the motor skills on his left side. There are months that are a total blank to him. I remember going to see him. He could not talk, eat, swallow, or even breathe on his own. There were those that said he would never walk again, or function normally. That was 6 years ago, and today he walks, he eats by himself, and he is even in college. I'm so proud of my sister for sticking with her husband, even though she could have given up. I'm so proud of my brother-in-law for having the tenacity, persistence and determination to make it as far as he has.
I hang my head in shame for an America that failed Terry Shaivo, and have deep sorrow for the 80% of the (uninformed and naive) American public who thought it was OK and justified. We have let a horrible thing happen. It's a good thing the Pope doesn't live in Florida...

Hope

16 years old....all hope lost. Too young to lose hope, yet here was this young man, hopeless and full of despair. How do we let these young people get there? Why do we, as a society, fail to recognize and come to the aid of these young, hopeless kids? Where is our compassion?
I am reluctantly linking this page to a story of Jeff Weise, the young man that was the suicidal murderer in last weeks shooting rampage. There is an animated video that he posted last October. DIDN'T ANYONE NOTICE????? It escapes me how we let stuff like this happen, when all of the signs are there. This young person was evidently in need of help long ago. What about his parents? Friends? Are there really that many that just never get reached? It is a sad comentary of our world.

"Butterfly on Lantana"

"Butterfly on Lantana" 3" x 3", Watercolor on paper, Framed

Someone asked if I could draw also. I love doing tiny paintings and sketches of things. This was my first attempt at a butterfly. I took the picture in my garden last Spring, and painted it from that. My Artwork link shows this along with other tiny paintings. I also have some larger ones on the site as well. I have some ideas for some very large works in my head....I just need to get around to do them. I'll post them as I complete them.

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Prayers

"Prayers" 14" x 18", Acrylic on Canvas
Scott Windrum has a unique ministry. He plays guitar and sings as he delivers powerful words of encouragement to the congregation. Last night, as he ministered in song, I got an idea for a painting, which I entitled "Prayers". I put in his CD and listened again today as I painted this work. Thanks, Scott, for the encouraging words. I really appreciate your ministry.
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A Company Without a Soul

I hate Bank One. Maybe I should say, I hate the the corporate philosophy of Bank One. It's all about the bottom line. People don't really matter. Situations don't matter....logic overrules the heart or soul. They keep people that don't belong there and fire or pressure good ones out. I know that everyone is under pressure by higher-ups to perform.... I know, I was on commission. I didn't need pressure from my supervisor to perform. I had pressure from my creditors to perform. I needed HELP from my company that I gave so much to, not pressure. When the company made announcements of having to cut territory, I stepped up to the plate and tried to make the transition more palatable for me, easier for the company, and best for the customers. I knew it was going to be hard to make it with 80% of my territory taken from me. I knew it would take time to ramp-up commissions.
In the meantime, my dad was dying, we were forced out of our apartment (that's another long story) by some moronic apartment managers who couldn't think beyond the present moment, we bought a house and had to wait a month after closing to move, so we rented a house temporarily for 30 days....having to move twice in 30 days is extremely difficult. I went to my company and asked for a raise in my draw, which I was summarily denied. I could understand if I was a new employee with no track record... or if I had performed poorly in the past, but I was one of the better producers with a proven track record. I honestly believe that a little help financially from my company would have made me a more viable player. I could have at least paid my bills and had more ability to concentrate on my job.
The Bank One Corporation has no soul. It is full of rules to make things "fair" for everyone, which only makes things very unfair. No one is willing to bend the rules to keep a drowning person from sinking. Things got progressively worse for me all last year, which eventually led to me quitting on September 30. It was better for me being unemployed.
Things with Bank One didn't end there. They contested my unemployment insurance claim, which was affirmed in my favor by a decision by Texas Workforce Commission. Then they appealed the decision and got a telephone hearing granted which led to the re-affirmation of TWC's original decision. A letter from Bank One's third party advocate (fancy name for bully shark barracuda attorneys) promptly followed with a plea for the TWC appeals tribunal to reverse their decision. I got a letter from TWC on Thursday reaffirming their decision AGAIN, but with ANOTHER opportunity for their bully shark barracuda attorneys to appeal, and consequently, charge more to the corporation...and ultimately, the customer.
Again: I QUIT ON SEPTEMBER 30th! TWC paid me a TOTAL of $3900 in unemployment insurance benefits. Bank One pays this through insurance premiums. It's not like it costs them the whole $3900. This is almost 6 months later and they are still hanging on, ignoring the cost of their bully shark barracuda attorneys and fighting a $3900 unemployment claim. I would guess, and this is just a guess, that the cost of the bully shark barracuda attorneys is more than $3900. (Do you ever wonder what all those "service fees" pay for?)The Bank One Corporation has no soul. Their logic goes beyond reason because no one wants to go outside the rules. I'm glad I am not working for that company anymore.
Enough of that rant.

Pauly the Rat

Update:
Situation resolved. 'nuff said.

Too funny

Thanks Amy. Diary of a Dog, Diary of a Cat

Everyday Choices

There are some things that just don't make a lot of sense. I was taking a back way to school today and ran across this intersection. Blew my mind. But I got to thinking....aren't I faced with this dilemna every day? "There is a way that seems right to a man, but the end thereof leads to death." Prov. 14:12, and "I set before you today life and death, blessing and cursing; therefore, choose life, that both you and your descendants may live." Deut. 30:19. Sometimes the clear choice really isn't that clear. The signs say to go left, and another says to go right. Without all the information and discernment, the obvious choice may be clouded or confused by different signs. If we take the time to examine all of the information and ask God for direction, we can be sure He will tell us which way to go.

"Sunday"

"Sunday" Acrylic on canvas, framed, 16" x 20"
I don't usually do abstract art, but I thought this was kindof cool. It actually is my first full sized work with acrylics on canvas. I have done some smaller studies, but I finally got in "the zone" last week and created this. I got a nice frame and hung it in my office, and it makes my whole office look different.
There is a real deep, emotional and intimate feeling I get when I paint. I can't explain it, but it is better than any high I can think of. I can't beleive that when I was younger, I used to think I had to smoke pot to be able to paint...My artwork from that period reflects my stifled thought patterns. I can't even think of getting high or even having a glass of wine now before I paint. Somehow it would destroy the purity of it. I am so very thankful for this talent I have. I can no longer take it for granted. I know part of my purpose is to paint, and I love it.

Spring Fever

I am definitely feeling crazy. There is a restlessness in me that surfaces from time to time. I think it comes after a period of boredom. School has me a little overwhelmed, my job is still at a standstill, and there's too many temptations to go find something more fun to do than study all the time. The weather has been just right to get out to the golf course too, and I finally just gave in yesterday and put my clubs in the trunk. Spring is officially here now! I was out at the driving range the other day....it was beautiful...65 degrees, sunny, the ground was a little wet, so we didn't actually get out on the course. Nevertheless, it was nice to get out there and hit some solid drives again. I feel the extra inch or so around my middle though. Time to get that off so I can swing a little better.
OK...I guess it's Spring Fever.

Truly Amazing

I read this story and thought, would I spend the last seconds of my life snapping pictures? I've never seen a tsunami, but I think if I were on the beach and saw a huge wall of water closing in, I'd be headed for high ground in a hurry. So sad, so many people were just oblivious.

Photographs from the camera of a Canadian couple killed in Asia's tsunami include their final shots of a huge wave as it rushed toward them at their beach resort in Thailand.

The Next Level

It was already September of last year, Christmas was approaching, and the year had been full of setbacks and losses. I had been passed up twice for promotion, and it was apparent to me that my life was at a standstill. I felt like I was losing ground staying where I was, and was extremely restless and discontented. . I needed some time to reflect on where I was, where I had been and where I wanted to go. I remembered one of my favorite authors, John C. Maxwell, made the statement, "The road to the next level is always uphill." I finally decided I was tired of coasting and needed to make some changes.

The first thing I had to do was determine what it was I really wanted to do. I knew that more than anything else, I wanted to finish college and get a degree. I didn’t have the money, knew nothing about getting into college, or even exactly what type of degree I wanted to pursue. I only knew if I wanted to move forward, I was going to have to get out of my comfort zone and get a degree.

Linda and I had discussed my restlessness many times, and she was well aware of my state of mind. We talked about some of the things I had dreamed of, one of which was flying professionally. "You’re too old and don’t have enough life insurance," she told me. She has a way of saying just the right thing, even when I don't want to hear it. Having 28 years of work experience has its advantages, and we decided that staying in the field of investments would probably give me the best opportunities when I finally graduated. After all, I'll be 50 if everything goes according to plan. We talked about some of the things I would need to do in order to afford college, if I was not going to work while being a student. It was evident we needed to have a long-range plan.

My first major action was leaving my job of four years. I decided that even being unemployed would be better than staying in a job that was going nowhere. Since I was now unemployed, I thought I might qualify for a Pell grant. I visited the college financial aid office and found out where I needed to apply online. I then sat with a counselor who helped me formulate a degree plan. I collected a large amount of information and knowledge that I needed to sort out and pull together into a workable solution.

I had to make several more visits to the college for counseling, testing and registration. This was definitely getting to be an uphill journey! Since I had not been in school for the last 30 years, I had to take college entrance exams, which I took reluctantly, having been miffed and intimidated at first. Actually I was pissed I would have to prove my worthiness for college. But after receiving my scores, I was glad had taken the test because my scores were high enough to keep me from having to take remedial courses. In fact, I think they over-qualified me for my college Algebra class, which I struggle daily with.

After several weeks, all the requirements and preparation were complete. I had qualified for and received a Pell grant, and I went to register. I felt pretty damned proud of myself, knowing I had just overcome the first major hurdle in getting an education. I remember having a big grin on as I left the counselor’s office. I had just registered and knew that everything would be paid for. I thought of the promise I made to my father before he died, that I would go back to school, and how proud he would be. For the first time in years, I was excited I had a plan, and knew it would be worth the investment. I was ready for the challenge and focused on a new goal.

The last several weeks have been full of challenges, because I am taking a full schedule of college courses, and also working full time. I have been challenged in balancing my school and work time with family and personal time. It has been hard to complete all the assignments for school and learn all the new things I have to learn. I keep focused on the fact that I am going to the next level, and I have to take one step at a time.

The most influencial man in my life was my father. All of my life he told me over and over, "This is America, and you can do whatever you want to do, you can be whatever you set your mind to be. If you're going to dream, you might as well make it a big dream." Well, Dad, I'm doing it. I've decided to pursue something I've always wanted to do...I just never had the balls to do it before. I believe he would say, "It's about damn time, son...I'm proud of you."

San Diego

I've been in San Diego for the last 3 days. It gave me time to think some more. Typically, whenever I go out of town, I wind up keeping mostly to myself. There's some comfort in the little "Wall" that protects me.....but sometimes it get pretty lonely. I was nice, however, to have a few people to talk to during the day....even if it was business. And we had a nice social dinner with about 8 of the office staff and one of the wholesalers on Thursday night. At least I had some company, and the conversation was lively.
Rarely do I ever connect with anyone else, but last night's flight was different. I dropped my "wall" and had a nice conversation with my "aisle-mate". It's interesting how it's easy to drop my guard sometimes with a complete stranger. For some reason I felt perfectly comfortable doing that. So out of character for me.
I grew up totally different. Because we moved almost every year, my relationships were always surface. Each time we moved I would have to make new friends, but I knew they would not be around after a year or so. It was that way until I was in the fifth grade, but still, my ability to be on any intimate level with someone was stifled by the fear of losing them someday. So, I disconnected for the most part. I was one way at school, and another way at home. I never exposed my sensitive side for fear of being thought of as weak. Breaking away from high school was a relief.
It was in my first year of college I discovered I could paint. I became quite productive back then. I don't quite know how many paintings I completed, but Dad and Mom framed quite a few of them and Dad saved all the others. For some reason, maybe I got too busy with life, I quit painting around 1979. He gave me his stack of paintings, most of which were elementary and incomplete, a few months before he died. I promised him I would start painting again, because he always encouraged me to do so and he loved my artwork. Since May of last year, I have completed 9 works, 2 of which were in that stack Dad gave me. It has been healing and therapeutic to do so and has kept me from looking for other things, like pot and alcohol, to deal with my grief and depression.
Anyway, I talked to this complete stranger, Minda, all the way to Austin. I intended to do the crossword puzzle in the America West magazine, but never even touched it. It was nice... no pressure, no expectations... and she wasn't shy to ask some pretty personal questions, which was OK because I knew she was asking not to be nosy, but for something that she had been asking herself. I love to have conversation like that...personal, open, honest. Small talk does nothing for me. It was nice to drop my wall and just have a nice conversation last night.
I'm glad to be home. We're going down to SA to see Mom when the girls get back from the gym. I'll write something a little deeper later. I've been reflecting on some things that I need to get written down.

Valentine's Day after 22 years

Lots has been said by people about why they're glad to be single today, but I'd like to throw in some reasons I am glad for today: After 22 years of marriage, Valentine's Day has some different meaning.

There is anticipation, but not expectation of something romantic.

It doesn't have to be expensive, but it's nice if it is.

We don't (and won't) wait in line for an hour and a half, with reservations, to eat dinner. A simple dinner at home is sufficient. We can go out to eat any other night and make it just as romantic.

She's not my only Valentine....it's ok if I get Valentine's cards for my daughter, granddaughter and Mom. But she's my favorite and best Valentine and she knows it.

Knowing she still likes kissing me is enough.

We give each other cards because we want to, not because we want to.

When we sleep with each other we really sleep.

We say "I love you" because that's what we do every day anyway.

Before I sound like "the Last of the Great Romantics," let me just say that Linda and I are deeper in love than when we were when we first got married. Hell, we hardly knew each other when we first got married. It's taken a lot of years to grow in love and I can truthfully say I love her more today. We were talking about my trip to San Diego the other day.... she said she was going to miss me.
I asked her, "Why are you gonna miss this fat old cranky Meskin guy, anyway?"
"Because you're MINE," she replied.
Makes sense to me. That's what makes me want to come home.
I love you, Linda....Happy Valentine's Day.

Happy Birthday, Grammo Pita

Today is my grandmother's, "Grammo Pita", as I called her, birthday. I can't remember how old she would be. I only know this....it doesn't matter to her any more because she is in eternity, and this year she has her son, my dad, to be there with her.
Weekends are especially sentimental to me. I used to talk to Dad just about every weekend, no matter what. We'd talk about the weather, my job, the family....nothing deep, just catching up... when I was down in SA, we'd go visiting. When Grammo Pita was alive, we'd go over there and have some coffee with her, and sometimes she'd have some fresh taquitos and beans. I always remember her smile and her laugh. It was always a warm welcome when we went over there. And the coffee was always the best. She perked it in a little pot on a gas stove...the same gas stove she taught me how to make a quality tortilla on.
She had a living room that was reserved only for special occassions. It was always dark and the door was always closed. It had her best furniture in there, and had a mysterious air to it. There was a painting of Jesus Christ and a photo of John F. Kennedy on the same wall. And a painting of the Last Supper hung there as well. I remember a coffee table with a glass top that had a painting my father did under the glass. (I wonder what happened to that painting) It was a special room, opened only for the bigger gatherings, Christmastime when her tree was up, and when we could sneak in there. I never played in there when I snuck in. There was such an awe to the room, kindof sacred, almost like a sanctuary, that even as a child, I was reverent when entering that room alone.
She was all of 4' 8" x 4' 8". I could barely get my arms around her when I hugged her, but she was one I always wanted to hug. Her little hands would work so fast creating the best meals you could ever want. She cooked beans in a clay pot. There was always a comal on the stove, ready to make tortillas, and there was always a little jug of cold water in the refrigerator. I don't know why exactly I remember that, but it was always the BEST tasting water... Her kitchen was tiny, not much room for more than just 3 or 4 people, but so cozy, and never seemed crowded.
I miss her. I miss my dad.... Happy birthday, Grammo Pita.

Unbelievable.

I thought I was something when I taught my dog to sit.... sheesh. Check this out for an incredible bird act!

Dear President Bush

I ran across this blog today. I thought I'd throw in my letter to the stack. One thing gets to me though: am I the only one in America who remembers we don't call the President of the US by his FIRST name? (or "W", or "Bush") What happened to "President Bush"? As much as I disliked the character deficiencies of the former president, I never lost respect for the Office of President, and respectfully referred to him as "President Clinton". Not "Bill", or "Clinton", or "Mr. Clinton", or any other reference other than "President Clinton". And he is still "President Clinton", and if I recall correctly, he keeps that title even after he is no longer in office.

I encourage you to make your voice heard too. Thank God we still have the freedom in this great country to express our views, even if they are dissenting ones. I am amazed, though, at the sheer HATE that comes from the "tolerant and liberal" left.

Even though I hated the things I heard President Clinton did, and disagreed with his policies, I never HATED him, and prayed for him and the Office on a regular basis. I wonder how many liberals can say that? Oh....they wouldn't mix religion with politics....or pray publicly.... or try to force their religion down your throat... (they do though) ... nevermind.... silly idea.

Enough of that. Here's a copy of the letter.

Dear President Bush:
This is a time for our country that we desperately need firm, unwavering leadership and people who are not afraid to do whatever is necessary to maintain our cherished freedom. It is also a time for Americans to support our leadership. With great respect for the office of President of the United States, I give you my support. Thank you for bringing leadership and dignity back to the office. I am a fifth-generation American Veteran who proudly served our country in the Armed Services. My father and his grandfather are both buried at national cemeteries. My grandfather served in the US Navy during WWII. We are of Mexican descent, but we always knew we were Americans first. When I pledged allegiance to our flag, I really meant it. I am proud, as were my ancestors, to be an American. I salute you. You are a great American and it is an honor to call you "Mr. President".
Respectfully,
Paul Tamez
A proud American