Month: August 2011

The Greybeard Chronicles: The Prince of Thieves in the Land of Venti

Once upon a time (this morning), in a land far, far away (Mobile, Alabama), a handsome young prince – or pauper, if you will (yours truly), journeyed (by pickup) to a dark swamp in a dense forest (Starbucks) where highway robbers lurched in waiting (behind the counter) to pounce on unsuspecting innocents (customers too stupid or stubborn to pass on a $5 cup of coffee), when he beheld a damsel (coworker) in distress (or in the grips of a very intense, life-draining, bad mood.) The gallant prince unleashed his wit and charm to rescue the poor damsel from her drab existence, or at least wake her from her comatose trance. Alas, his chivalry was rebuffed by an icy glare (or was it a blank stare?) and slight curl of the upper lip. This was precisely the instant our hero pondered the question: “What crawled up you’re a…?” He was then struck by the epiphany that some occupants of the Forest of Life are incurably discontent and innately dull, and this one may just be a grade “A” b… He was mid-thought when the robber proved to be Robin (or maybe Robyn) Hood and handed him a Venti Caramel Macchiato. Thus, his anger was sated, the damsel was spared a severe tongue-lashing and the handsome prince kept his job another day. The End?...

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The Greybeard Chronicles: Obama, Elvis, Jesus and Me

President Obama said that Congress needs to get busy serving the American people, rather than campaigning for the next election. He said this WHILE in IOWA, where he was CAMPAIGNING for the next election. Meanwhile, Rick Perry, the Texas Ken doll of a governor, whom I suppose I am supposed to love because he is a conservative and a “Christian,” is throwing his ten-gallon hat into the ring. (Yes, that was a long, heavy sigh you just heard from me. Long. Heavy. Weary.) When did American politics devolve into nothing more than posturing , finger-pointing and buck-passing? Oh, wait. I know: When it became politics. In other news, Elvis Presley is still gone. It was 34 years ago today that the world heard the devastating words, “The king is dead.” Thirty-four years! Imagine this: An American today can be old enough to go through a mid-life crisis, but have no personal recollection of Elvis. This makes the gray in my goatee feel more like a poignant identifier of age than any sort of indicator of wisdom. You know you are getting long in the tooth when an icon of your youth is now simply an historical figure. In other other news, the King of kings lives. So, today it’s politics as usual, mixed with an iconic reminder of our own mortality and the brevity of life… And hope. Because He lives,...

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