Thinking Out Loud, Volume CCCLV

I was standing backstage, patiently awaiting my turn when Mrs. Knapp tapped me on the shoulder and said, "Okay, it's time." A spotlight followed me as I approached the microphone.  Although it was dark in the auditorium, the light brightened the room just enough for me to get some idea of the size of the audience I was facing, but for some reason, the capacity crowd didn't scare me. I was aware of the fact that my words were intended to be somewhat humorous, but I must admit the elation I felt was indescribable when I heard the laughter and applause coming from the audience. I was seven years old. One more example:  Once  when I was a teenager, the youth of our church traveled to another city where we performed a little play about some criminals who were on death row. Each performer had written his/her own part, and the young lady who was up just ahead of me was portraying someone who had only two weeks to live. When she finished her part, there wasn't a dry eye in the building. Then it was my turn. I had only one week to live.  Without really intending to, I transformed the somber mood in that building to one of hilarity, and the tears turned to howls of laughter. That wasn't the way it was supposed to go, and no doubt my teacher had some regrets about letting us write our own monologue, but I must tell you, I left there feeling pretty good. As a young adult, I actually went on the road on a part-time basis, doing a comedy routine primarily for church parties and conventions, as well as company socials. My audiences ranged from as few as about twenty-five people, to crowds of more than a thousand, and through it all, I experienced the horrific feeling of trying to be funny while no one was laughing, as well as that rush I would get when people are laughing so hard they're peeing in their pants. Then one day it all changed. While I still enjoy making people laugh, the urge to get on stage as a comedian has left me, and when it did, it went far away.  Nobody is in a funny mood all the time, and I found myself in a position where I just couldn't get people to take me seriously.  I can recall times when I felt frustrated when I would crack a joke and the other person would just look at me like I was an idiot, but that can't hold a candle to the frustration I would feel when I was being serious and people thought I was trying to be funny. Since then there have been times when I've been asked to teach classes at church, and I've discovered a new type of rush....the one that comes when it's obvious that the people in the class are soaking up every word I have to say. If you read my Facebook posts, you know that I still try to make people at least smile at what I have to say, but please allow me to be serious sometime too. It's important to me. Preston

Thinking Out Loud, Volume CCCLIV

When it's done right, it can be one of the most pleasurable social activities around. But it has to be done right. The trouble is, it only takes one person who's not doing it right to mess it up for everyone else. There's an art to it, or maybe I should say a skill, and not everyone has the ability to to work it properly so that it becomes a pleasant experience for each person involved. Although it can be done without it, most people prefer to consume either food or beverages while engaging in this activity. Now that we're living in the age of computers, iPads and smart phones, I sometimes worry that fewer and fewer of us will develop the skills needed to enjoy this activity the way we used to. I'm talking about the art of verbal, face to face conversation. A few weeks ago, Angie and I were invited to join a group of about twenty or so people at a nice restaurant to celebrate the birthday of a good friend. After it was over and we were on our way home, we discussed what a good time we had had that night, but it was what we did while we were there that made it so much fun. We talked. All of us. But if I was to say that's all we did, I'd be guilty of leaving out one of the most important activities of the evening...the one thing that brought the perfect balance to the party...we listened. All of us. More than likely, if we were asked to define the term "conversation," the first thing that would come to our minds would be the word "talking," and that would be half correct. That's where it becomes an art or skill. If only one or two people are doing all the talking, it becomes a boring activity for the rest of the people involved. The other half of the definition of "conversation" is "listening." However, listening also requires a skill that not every person possesses. Here's the weird part: If the same people are forced to spend almost all of their time as the listeners, they begin to lose their listening skills, because too much listening brings on boredom, and at that point the listener's mind will begin to wander as he only pretends to listen. A good speaker will notice immediately when that happens as he detects that he is no longer connecting with the other parties involved. A good conversationalist will listen more than he speaks. I heard of one man who said a person can only acquire knowledge while he is listening, because he can only speak of that which he already knows. I agree, although I have heard people speaking about topics of which they know nothing. To a good listener, that will become obvious as well. Yes, there have been too many times when I've spoken when I should've been listening, but in most of those instances, I realized it immediately after the fact, and I promise you I'm working on it. I love parties, but if I have a choice between playing games or mingling with the crowd, I'll choose to mix and mingle every time, so I can work on perfecting my conversation skills. So when I come to your party, I primarily want to engage in conversation...and eat. Preston

Thinking Out Loud, Volume CCCLIII

Am I wrong for feeling like this? I hope not, because I don't know how I could change it. There's no doubt that many of you have the complete opposite view of this subject, and that's fine. I promise to not try to get you to change your opinion, but please allow me to describe my point of view and explain why I feel this way. I lost my dad when I was only thirty-five years old, and I took it hard. That was twenty-six years ago, and there's still not a day that goes by that I don't think about him and wish I could take one more trip with him. Then, in 2007, my mom passed away, leaving me longing for just one more morning of sitting on her back porch, drinking coffee, and watching the squirrels in her fig trees as they would pass up what looked to us like ideal figs just so they could get to what they perceived as the perfect piece of fruit. Grief came my way once again in 2010 as I learned first hand what it's like to lose a sibling when my younger brother lost his battle with cancer. I think pleasant thoughts of all three of them every single day, and I hold their memories dear to my heart. Their graves are all together, just a couple feet apart, in the Nebo Cemetery, not far from the home where I grew up. My sister still lives in the general area, and although I don't get over there as often as I would like, I do get to visit two or three times yearly; but when I do, I rarely visit the cemetery. It's probably safe to say that I only visit their grave sites about once a year. It sounds horrible, I know, but other than just making sure that everything still looks okay and no work needs to be done, I just don't see the need. I knew an elderly man who would visit his wife's grave every day, and he would take a chair with him and just sit there for at least an hour...sometimes all morning. That was his choice, and I have no criticism of his actions at all. I have heard of parents who would spend the night at the grave of their teenage child as they tried to come to grips with their unbearable loss. What right do I have to make even one negative comment about them? Here's my position: My loved ones are alive in my heart, in my memory, and I believe, in Heaven. It's my belief that when their lives ended, their spirits left their bodies; therefore, when I visit the cemetery, they are not there...I'm visiting no one. I believe that my body is just temporary housing for the real me, and when my body dies, I'm moving out. I know there are some who feel that a person's spirit may linger near the body, but I just don't see it that way. As long as I'm able, I will continue to make occasional trips to Nebo Cemetery, and just like I've done at times in the past, I'll take some tools along to make sure the graves are still looking good and everything is in order. Like I said earlier, I still have that longing to spend time with each one of them again, and I firmly believe it will happen, but it won't be at the cemetery. Preston

Thinking Out Loud, Volume CCCLII

There are two ways we can look at it, and there are valid points on both sides of the issue. I've heard the debates from both sides, and each side used Scripture to back up their arguments. We'll take a look at both sides, but first let me set the foundation so we'll have a better understanding as to why there's a debate in the first place. Every sound minded individual reaches a point in his/her life that's commonly referred to as "the age of accountability," which is a stage of life where an individual becomes responsible for his own decisions and actions, including securing his soul salvation. Small children naturally have not reached the age of accountability, and the majority of their decisions are made for them, usually by their parents. Consequently, those innocent little ones are often made to suffer due to the unwise actions of their caregivers. That leads to the question of just how much responsibility does society in general have in helping to provide for these children. (When I use the term "society," I'm referring to individuals who may choose to help on their on free will, not government aid.) Some may argue that our requirements are great, while others may be effective in pointing out that our responsibilities are much more limited, so that we don't teach them that if they fail to take care of themselves, someone else will do it for them. Let's examine the issue. There can be no argument on this point: Children have no say whatsoever as to what type of family they are born into. In that respect, fortune smiles on some, while others are most unfortunate. One of the most powerful passages of Scripture used in favor of offering our assistance to these needy children is found in Matthew 25:35-40, where Jesus told his followers that "I was naked and you didn't clothe Me, I was hungry and you didn't feed Me, and I was sick and in prison and you didn't visit Me." When they questioned Him about just when they had failed Him so miserably, He responded, in essence, that when they failed to provide those services to those around them, it was as if they were failing Him as well. Wow!! Those are some strong words! On the other end of the spectrum, there are some equally strong words that condemn a man who will not provide for his family. In fact, according to the Bible, that man is worse than an infidel. That, of course, is referring to adults, but what about the children who make up that man's family? Go to the seventh chapter of Joshua and read the story of Achan. He blatantly disobeyed a direct command and had to die as a result, but his entire family had to die with him, although they were innocent. Does that not also happen in our world today? How about the children who have to ride in a vehicle driven by an intoxicated parent? What about the kids left at home when Dad has to go to prison? Are they not, in their innocence, also forced to pay for the crimes of their parents? Now, during this season of giving when our thoughts turn to "love and good cheer," what are we supposed to do about those less fortunate, especially the children? Yes, it's true that children must also help pay for the sins of their parents, but don't they already do that on a daily basis anyway? And besides, who appointed me to be the judge? I must stop to consider just how many mistakes I've made in my own life, and, but for the grace of God, my kids could be suffering for my sins. Before I start throwing stones, I should recite the verse that says, "Let he who is without sin cast the first stone." Or maybe I could read Matthew 7:1, "Judge not, lest you, too, be judged." In his Thanksgiving message, our pastor quoted a statistic that said if we have food on our table, spare change in our pockets, and any amount of money in our checking account, we are among the top six per cent of the wealthiest people on earth. We may not think we're rich, but we are. I urge each of you to find someone who needs help this Christmas season, and do what you can to make their Christmas just a little bit better. If you don't know of anyone in need, ask your pastor. Chances are, he'll know of several. Who knows, you may help change a life of some child for all of eternity. Preston

Thinking Out Loud, Volume CCCLI

This guy sitting next to me is a very important person in my life. In fact, at this point in time, his value to me is beyond measure. Without him, I've got problems. "Who is he?" you may ask. Uh, I don't know his name. In fact, I have no idea where he lives, whether he's married, divorced or single, or if he has kids. There hasn't been a word passed between us, and chances are there won't be. What I do know is there are some areas where I'm extremely weak, and there are some things that I need someone else to do for me. I'm in desperate need of one of those things right now, and it's something this man can do. You see, I'm at an airport and it's time to go home, but I can't fly a plane. Thankfully, this guy is a pilot who is trained to fly the aircraft I'm about to board, and that's what he is gonna do. Without him, or someone just like him, I'd have to set out walking, and it's a long walk from Irving, TX. I'm typing these words onto an iPad, and it's working perfectly. All I have to do is touch the letters on the screen, and they magically appear for you or anyone else to read. If it was left up to me to build a device that would work like this, it wouldn't get done. This may surprise you, but I don't know how to build an iPad. Furthermore, practically every person who reads this will be doing so via the Internet, which I also don't know how to construct. (Thank God for Al Gore.) I had soup for lunch, and as usual, I had crackers with my soup. Trouble is, I don't know how to make crackers. I have to depend on people who do. I can't read without my glasses, so I'm thankful for those who know how to make prescription eyeglasses. I could go on and on with countless examples, but five is enough and you're starting to get the picture. It would be a tough life if we had to live our lives in a bubble, with no help from other human beings. Yes, I believe every able-bodied person should be responsible for providing for himself, but that includes knowing how to depend on the expertise of others, as we provide our own skills in return. My wife works for a heart surgeon. I've never known anyone who performed his own bypass operation. Hey, I have an idea! In the areas where I'm weak and you are strong, if you'll help me, I'll return the favor. If you don't have any weaknesses where I'm strong, let me do something for you anyway. It'll make me feel better. Preston

Thinking Out Loud, Volume CCCL

I'm not a fan of shopping, so if you're trying to find me, the mall might not be the most logical place to look. However, I admit, I probably average going there with my wife at least a couple times a year, and when I do, I like sitting on one of the benches in the hallway. As long as I don't have to stay there all day, I can actually enjoy sitting there, because I'm a people watcher. I really feel that after years of experience, I've gotten pretty good at reading people. I like to look at their facial expressions to see if I can determine their frame of mind and whether or not they're happy. When I use the term "happy," I'm not referring to their situation at that particular instant, which means that smiles on their faces won't necessarily answer my question. What I'm really wondering is are they living a happy life. Happy people can sometimes be angry. Happy people can sometimes be sad. By the same token, people who are generally unhappy can have moments of temporary elation. So what does it take to make someone genuinely happy? When we first start compiling that list, the things that we may typically want to include may not should be on the list at all. I'm referring to things like, "He's financially set," or "She usually ends up getting her way." In my few short decades of people watching, I've concluded that happy people are not "me-focused" people. Those who are constantly in a flux to get ahead of the next guy are not the ones who are living a happy life, although they will feel moments of satisfaction with each person they surpass along the way; then that moment is gone and they're back in a dither to move ahead of someone else. In essence, I believe the happiest people on earth are the ones who are genuinely at peace with themselves. I've known people who can make friends fairly easily, but when it comes to hanging on to those friends, that's an entirely different story, and that's because they start to use those newfound friends to achieve their own selfish wishes and whims. The next thing that happens is the friends begin to pull away, leaving them, once again, lonely and alone. On the other hand, the happiest people I know are the ones who are constantly looking to see what they can do for those around them with little consideration for their own convenience. I've come to the conclusion that the recipe for true happiness is to simply place the convenience and happiness of others ahead of your own. (Isn't it funny how when we actively work toward someone else's benefit, we end up benefitting ourselves?) Being able to spot those people while sitting on a bench in the mall is not always easy, but I think I'm starting to get the hang of it, although it would be difficult to explain. I guess the best way to explain it is there seems to be a look of peace in their eyes. Preston

Thinking Out Loud, Volume CCCXLIX

Considering the fact that I am now on the downhill side of sixty, it's natural to assume that I would be a fan of the oldies station. While it's true that I enjoy listening to the music that I grew up on, I have to tell you that many of the newer styles of music also appeal to me, and that includes both secular and Christian music. As a matter of fact, I sometimes look back at some of the styles of clothing, hair, and even the music that we thought was so cool and I have to ask, "Really?" Many of the fashions of yesterday now seem laughable, while I really have to question the messages in the songs we once enjoyed so much. And once again I'm speaking about both secular and Christian music. Many of the secular songs of my teenage years actually promoted drug use, and the Christian songs.....well, let's take a look at one in particular. In my view, it promotes church stagnation. First of all, let me tell you that I never actually liked this song, but it is typical of many of the songs of its day. And one little side note, also like so many songs of that era, it started with the word "well." Here are some of the lyrics: Well, they tore the old country church down, Built a big new church way up town, With a steeple so high It reaches to the sky, And pride has slipped in, Where love should have been. Even when that was a popular song and I was just a kid, I questioned its message. Maybe I have its overall purpose all wrong, but to me, it is implying that small country churches are good and big city churches are bad. Now, in no way, shape or form am I insinuating that small country churches are not good, but let's take a practical look at what this song is saying and see if it is in agreement with the biblical message that is sometimes called "The Great Commission." If I attend a small church, is it right for me to want it to stay small? Is there ever a point where we say that we now have enough people? If that is the case, should we put up a "No Vacancy" or a "You Are Not Welcome" sign? Maybe we could make a waiting list, and when a church member dies or moves away, we could allow in the person at the top of the list. Earlier this morning, I was sitting on a plane talking to the man across the aisle, and he was telling me how much he loves his little church and how he just doesn't think he could handle a big church. However, I also believe if I wanted to move my family to his church, he would be delighted to have us, even if our presence made it a little bigger. So, where is the stopping point when it comes to welcoming new people? I don't think there is one. I think any person who loves God, loves his church, and also loves people, like Christians are supposed to do, will not only always keep out the welcome mat for new people, but will actively work toward church growth. And that means we're continually working to change our little church into a big one, regardless of how many times we sing that song. Yes, I know it also says something about pride slipping in, but pride has been known to slip in little churches as well. I can recall just a few short years ago when our church was housed in a tiny white building, and everyone there loved their "little" church. But they also loved people, and as a result, that little white building is now just a memory. Today, strangely enough, all those same people love their "big" church. But they also still love people. I think we all know what is gonna happen as a result. Preston

Thinking Out Loud, Volume CCCXLVIII

Her name was Lou. That's almost all the personal information I can remember about her. I can't even recall her last name. However, there's one thing about her that continues to stand out in my memory even today. In the early 1980s, I was working as a store manager for a fairly large department store chain, and she was my office manager. That was a long time ago, and there's no way I can remember even half of the people I worked with during those years, but Lou was so conscientious about her work, a spot for her has been reserved in my memory for the rest of my life. As a result of the pride she took in her work, I still regard her as the best office manager I ever had. One of the most important duties of an office manager was to prepare a daily report known as a transmittal. Any errors on a transmittal could have an adverse effect on the profitability of the store, thus affecting my income as well. Each day when Lou finished it, she would place it on my desk for my signature. However, before I would sign the bottom of the page, I would go over it with a fine tooth comb, looking for errors. If there was a mistake, I was determined to find it, and Lou was equally determined that there would be no errors to find. We turned it into a game, and on the occasions when I did find a mistake, it would upset her. During that period of time, I could go to sleep at night with the assurance that we had turned in perfect reports....because we cared. More importantly, SHE cared, although it was not her income that was affected. If she had not cared, her job may have eventually been affected, but she was the type that wanted to do it right anyway. That's because she saw the big picture...that picture that shows how many lives and careers may have been altered by her actions. Not only that, she was concerned about how her performance made her look. I'm appalled when I look at social media and see the atrocious grammar and spelling errors on so many posts, but it makes me feel better when I see where someone has become aware of their mistakes and made an effort to correct them. What disturbs me is when I see obvious errors, and it's apparent that the person who made the mistake really doesn't give a rip. That reminds me of another former employee, although I remember this one for a different reason. She was a temporary employee who was helping us take inventory. We had an item in our store called a "Snug Sack," but when she listed it on the inventory sheet, she just wrote the word "Sag." When I asked her what it was, she looked at me like I was crazy. "It's sack," she said. I replied, "Sack is s-a-c-k." "Well, I spell it s-a-g," she said. I ended the conversation at that point, but about a month later I was in need of a permanent employee, and she applied for the position. I wouldn't have hired her if she had been the only person who wanted the job, and the reason was all because of her attitude. We all make mistakes from time to time, but our attitude about them determines whether we reduce them or not. When Lou first started working for me, I would find errors on practically every transmittal she put on my desk. However, due to her attitude toward them, by the time my company transferred me from that store to one in another city, her mistakes were extremely rare. That's the way she wanted it....and it's the way I wanted it. That made both of us happy. Preston

Thinking Out Loud, Volume CCCXLVII

It's interesting to watch. On the second weekend in October, a group of men and women from practically every section of our country converge on Los Angeles for our company's annual sales meeting. Practically every one of us arrive on Thursday, but since our flights are spread throughout the day, it's later on in the evening, at Happy Hour, when we all gather into one spot as a group. At first there are a lot of handshakes and "great to see you's," and then the big group begins to break up into smaller groups, and that's where it starts to get interesting....just to observe the makeup of each of the smaller groups. Each person will eventually end up joining the group with whom he/she feels most comfortable, and upon closer observation, you will notice that each group is made up of people who are basically from the same region of the country. My group will normally include representatives from Texas, Louisiana, Arkansas, Mississippi, Alabama, Tennessee, Kentucky, and the Carolinas....in other words, a group of southerners. Of course, no one is banned from any of these clubs, but it's just human nature to gravitate toward the people with whom we feel that special camaraderie. It's like a brotherhood. If we were to organize a gathering of men, with no two of them knowing any other person there, and this group was made up of hunters, fishermen, golfers, runners and cyclists, within a matter of minutes, each of these sub-groups would have sniffed each other out and divided up accordingly. It's like we feel a special kinship with other individuals who share our values and interests. As a runner, when I'm out on my early morning runs, I may or may not wave at vehicles as they pass, and when I do, it's usually a "Thank You" wave to the ones who give me a wide berth as come by. But if I see another runner out on the street, you can bet I'll be saying "Good Morning." It's that brotherhood....that common bond. With that said, I can report that I now find myself a part of another group, or club, one that I never in my life dreamed that I would be joining....and that's the group of people who have a loved one with Down Syndrome. That fact occurred to me a couple days ago when I was planning my fall schedule for work. I have one client who has a thirty-one year old son, named Joey, who works with her in the store, and Joey has Down Syndrome. Every time I visit that store, I find myself looking around for Joey, and making sure I go speak to him while I'm there. Just three years ago, before I had a granddaughter with DS, I was not that way at all, but I can honestly say that, although she doesn't know it, that little girl has changed me. She has made a new man out of me. When I see someone, child or adult, with DS, I now feel that special kinship with him/her and his/her family It's like a special brotherhood. Preston

Thinking Out Loud, Volulme CCCXLVI

I would like to have more money. Have you ever looked at your bank balance and said, "Okay, this is all I want?" Probably not. I make a modest living, but to be honest, there are some nicer things we would like to have that we just can't quite afford. However, when I talk to the people who have those nicer things, they're saying the same thing I'm saying. We always want just a little bit more. Here's why I think we're never quite satisfied: It has to do with that phrase, "just a little bit more." Think about it. It has no end. We've never made "just a little bit more." We've never loved "just a little bit more." We've never given "just a little bit more." "A little bit more" is something we never quite attain. That's because when we make a little bit more and we're asked if we still have the need for a little bit more, the answer is always, "Yes." The richest among us still crave for "a little bit more." Why aren't we ever fully satisfied? Sometimes I wonder if humans are the only creatures who have this void that seems impossible to fill, or if other cultures within the human race have the same issues. Think about the drug addict, for example. Whatever it takes to attain his "high" will not be enough the next time. The same is true for the porn addict. Whatever he views this time won't be enough next time. Is one tattoo enough or do you always want just one more little one? How much jewelry does it take to completely satisfy one person? When the speed limit is seventy, we drive seventy-five; then they raise it to seventy-five, and we drive eighty. Will our leaders in government ever achieve as much power as they crave? What will it take to make us happy? Are you happy now? If you are, is it possible for you to be happier? If it is possible, what will it take to get you there? If you could achieve whatever it would take to get you to that point, would you then be totally satisfied? I wonder if God would say to me, "I'll give you twenty-four hours to give me a list of what it would take to make you completely satisfied, and I'll grant your desires," would I in one week be regretting some things that I left off that list? Maybe God placed within us an unfillable void so that we would always have the urge to progress and move closer and closer to Him, but instead we have perverted it and used it for our own selfish lusts. It's just a thought. I'm convinced that none of us will ever attain pure satisfaction while living on this earth. However, if I channel all my unfulfilled cravings toward Him, I'll someday hear the pearly gates click shut behind me, and at that point, complete happiness will finally be mine. Preston

Thinking Out Loud, Volume CCCXLV

Have you ever heard the old cliche', "Like father, like son," or "Like mother, like daughter?" Have you ever looked around and observed just how accurate those phrases are? Think about it. If Dad is a cowboy, chances are, the son will be a cowboy; if Mom loves to shop, chances are, the daughter will love to shop. That can be a good thing or it can be a bad thing. Today I want to focus on one aspect of that old saying. If Mom and Dad grow up in poverty, chances are, the kids will do the same. I'm of the opinion that if we want to eradicate poverty, we have to start with young children, with the understanding that it will take a generation to begin seeing results. I believe much of it depends on the expectations that parents have for their children. Although colleges and universities have been around for centuries, it has just been in recent years that the percentages of students who attend them have risen to the levels they are today, especially in the more rural areas of our country. As a matter of fact, during the period of time that my parents grew up, not many in their area even received a high school diploma. Neither my dad nor my mom had a high school education. Looking back at my ancestral up line, as far as I know, my generation was the first ones to attain college degrees. I now have two adult children, both of whom have university degrees, but I never thought for one second that they wouldn't...it's what I expected of them. The children of educated parents are highly more likely to receive a degree than those from uneducated parents. What about those who live in poverty, depending on the government for survival? More than likely, the majority of them will grow up the same way, mainly because it's the only life they know. Until we figure out a way to intervene in the lives of these children so that we can teach them that EACH ONE of them can have a better life, that cycle will never be broken. That will be a major undertaking, due to the fact that a child's home life has the biggest impact on his/her future. Every parent who loves his children will want to see them become more successful than he has been, and in the cases where that wish comes true, those children were taught basic work ethics and the basic principle "Where there's a will, there's a way." It disturbs me when I hear school teachers talk about some of their students, and the type of atmosphere they have in their homes. All I can do is shake my head and say, "Those kids don't have a chance at life." And the trouble is, when they grow up, their kids will be in the same boat...just one big vicious cycle. I wish I could tell you that I have the answer, but I'd be lying. However, I'm thoroughly convinced that more government handouts are not the answer. In fact, in my opinion, that's part of the problem. Since today we seem to be stuck on using old cliche's, let's end with this one: "There ain't no free lunch." Preston

Thinking Out Loud, Volume CCCXLIV

She was a beautiful lady. As a matter of fact, she still is. With some of my friends, I can still remember the day we met, especially if there was some type of unusual circumstance associated with that meeting, and others I don't recall at all. With her, that circumstance was there, so I remember it. We ended up with adjoining booths at a trade show and on that first morning of the show, we had introduced ourselves and then each of us went back to work. She then received a call from her husband and walked out of the area for the conversation. She came back just minutes later with tears in her eyes, and said to me, "I have to go home." There had been a tragedy back home, and a family member was not expected to survive the next twenty-four hours. I still recall how my heart went out to her as she packed up and started out on that long seven hour trip back home. In the three or four years after that first meeting, I would see her at various trade shows about four times a year, and although we never became close friends, I guess you could say we were friendly acquaintances, never having more than five to ten minute conversations at a time. Then our paths went different directions, and I never saw her again....until yesterday. As in the old days, it was at a trade show. I was sitting in my booth when she walked by. I looked up, and we recognized each other at the same time. She stopped for a chat, and we had our normal five minute conversation before she moved on. So, what's the big deal? Why is this worth talking about? Well, it has to do with what was going on in my mind during our brief dialogue. I hope it wasn't apparent that I was somewhat distracted while we were talking, but I definitely was. It was light conversation, mainly about business, but when we had been chatting about a minute, the thought occurred to me that if I had just been meeting her for the first time, I would view her as an older woman. My next thought was that if we hadn't gone a few years without seeing each other, I wouldn't have noticed how much she had aged. I have no doubt whatsoever that she had the same type thoughts about me, but I don't notice it so much on myself, because I look in the mirror every day and gradual changes are not as noticeable. The thing that gets my attention the most is when I look at a picture of myself from about ten years ago and see how much younger I looked back then, but it's easier to accept anything as long as it's brought about on a gradual basis. I'm not gonna mention my friend's name for obvious reasons, but I have to wonder if those changes in her that I saw are as obvious to her as they were to me. Now, please refer back to the first two sentences of this article. I always viewed her as a very attractive lady, but here we are years later and I still do. That may have something to do with the fact that as my body has gradually aged over the years, my tastes have too. One of the main things about my wife that attracted me to her when we first met forty-two years ago was her beauty, but I've seen her most every day since then. I feel certain that she has aged over the years just like I have, but if she has, I haven't noticed. Preston

Thinking Out Loud, Volume CCCXLIII

Today's article is as much a conversation with myself as it is a message to others. I guess you could say I'm "Thinking Out Loud." It's just that I have a decision to make, and the time to do so is now. Although this is being written specifically for today, and will give the impression that I'm writing it the same day that you're reading it, in actuality, it was written more than two weeks ago. They say you're not supposed to shop for groceries when you're hungry, and you shouldn't discipline your children or have family discussions when you're angry; so if that's true, I probably should not try to make decisions about physical activity while I'm sick...like I am at the time of this writing. I have severe sinus congestion and a sore throat, and all I want to do stay in my recliner, so the thought of any type of physical activity sounds horrible to me right now. Back to the present: Hopefully I'm feeling better by now, and I'm excited about the fact that we're about to board a plane to Chicago for a fun-filled weekend with friends and family. We do this on a regular basis, and it's always so much fun spending time with people that I love, but it's the primary purpose of the trip that's putting me in this decision-making mode. We're going to run a marathon (26.2 miles). Here's my dilemma: I just don't know how many more marathons I want to run. First of all, I'm not even considering quitting running or discontinuing these trips...that's all a part of who I am and what I love. I've told you before that there will probably come a day when I'll decide to cut back to half marathons (13.1 miles), and I think that time may be now. When Mark Twain was born, Halley's Comet was making its appearance, and he once said "I rode in on Halley's Comet, and when it comes back, I'll ride out on it." That turned out to be a true statement. My first full marathon was Chicago, and it just seems fitting that it also be my last. It's amazing to watch people and their range of emotions as they cross the finish line of their first marathon, with many of them bursting into tears. I can only say that I felt a mixture of pure elation and touch of disappointment because, although my wife and a few friends were in the crowd watching for me, there were so many runners crossing the line at the same time, they couldn't pick me out of the crowd and didn't see me finish. The elation came because I had accomplished a goal that I once thought was out of reach. I no longer had to wonder, "Can I do it?"....I had done it! Since then, it has been an awesome ride. This journey has taken me to places such as Nashville, Washington, DC, Dallas, New Orleans, Jackson, Mobile, Philadelphia, and Minneapolis/St. Paul....and some of these cities multiple times. If I count half marathons, I can also add Ft. Worth, Oklahoma City, and Portland, Maine. As I look forward to next spring, I see half marathon trips to Little Rock, Arkansas and Fargo, North Dakota. Training for and running a full marathon is a commitment, and it's something you have to WANT to do....because you have the desire and weren't just talked into it by someone else. Who knows? I may change my mind a dozen times over the next few years, but as of now, this Sunday will be my last one. I no longer have that desire. Preston

Thinking Out Loud, Volume CCCXLII

Sometimes I look at Lake and Lennon, my two little grandchildren, and I wonder if it's even possible for a stronger love to exist than what I have for them. They are six and two respectively, so they are still at ages where they are completely dependent on adults for their care and supervision. Fortunately for them, they were born to an intelligent set of parents who would be willing to give everything, including their lives, for the sake of their children, which means I can go to bed at night without worrying about how they will be cared for in their home. I can only wish the same set of circumstances held true for every child in America...or the world. You see, some children, through no fault of their own, were born into families where the degree of love of which I've been speaking is just not present. I've often wondered how I would react if I knew that Lake and Lennon were being physically abused, but I believe I can get some idea of what my reaction would be when I think of how angry it makes me to hear of kids I don't even know who are being tormented by those who are supposed to be their caregivers. As I mentioned earlier, when they are very young, like mine are, they are totally dependent on adults for their survival, which means that they have to trust their parents and grandparents with their very lives. If a child can't even trust their own parents or grandparents, what kind of chances do they have at life? Though they are sometimes difficult to enforce, there are laws on the books to protect innocent children from adults who would physically abuse them, but unfortunately, those laws only cover "physical abuse." In my opinion, there is another type of abuse that can have just as devastating and long-lasting effects on children, and that is verbal abuse. I'm not an attorney, so I can't speak with authority on what laws exist and what they cover, but I believe verbal abuse would be much more difficult to control. The trouble is, words may be even more damaging to the future of a child than clubs would be...and it doesn't take many destructive words to do the job. Earlier today, I was thinking about times in my life when I've received compliments and other times when I've been told how badly I've performed. (I'm talking about what I've heard from people in general, not my parents.) To my dismay, it seems like the ones I remember most vividly are the words that hurt, but I believe that is human nature. If I'm that way as an adult, how much more true it must be for a child. It makes me want to pray every morning, "Dear Lord, please help me guard my tongue today so that I don't say anything that would destroy the confidence of any child. Instead, let my mouth speak words that build and encourage." As far as Lake and Lennon are concerned, when they are in my home under my care, there will be times when I will have to give them words of correction and instruction, but they will be done with love and with directions on how to do right. Furthermore, they will hear me tell them that they can be anything they want to be. It doesn't matter that one of them was born with special needs....she can be anything she wants to be. I'm so thankful God gave them to us, and I have to also say, thank God they have the parents they have. The opportunities for those two precious children are limitless....they have a family that is gonna see to it. Preston

Thinking Out Loud, Volume CCCXLI

Don't try to tell me our troops aren't brave. I know better. Don't try to tell me our troops aren't scared out of their wits when they're in the heat of battle. I know better. So that leads to the question, "Is it possible to be scared and brave at the same time?" Let's think about this and see what we come up with. Now please keep in mind that what I have to say is strictly my opinion and not some scientific explanation that I've researched. First of all, we'll discuss the word "fear." I personally believe that all living creatures experience fear at various times throughout their lives, and that's because fear is a God-given instinct that aids in self preservation. Without it, we would constantly be walking into life threatening situations with absolutely no apprehension whatsoever, resulting in much shorter life spans for man and beast alike. Therefore, fear is healthy. It prolongs our lives. So, what is courage? Is it the absence of fear? Not at all. I think John Wayne said it best when he said, "Courage is being scared to death, but saddling up anyway." As a child, I had some misconceptions about fear and courage, and I often wonder if others looked at it the same way I did. I thought fear and courage were opposites, but I was wrong. We can have fear and courage at the same time. My dad was one of the soldiers who stormed the beaches of Normandy on D-Day during World War II, and not long before he passed away, he told me how scared he was as they were running up onto land, but they kept running. That's courage, my friend. There's no way anyone could convince me that Todd Beamer and his cohorts on Flight 93 felt no fear as they purposely crashed that plane into that Pennsylvania field on September 11, 2001, but that fear didn't stop them from doing what was right. What about the firemen who rushed INTO the burning towers in New York that same day as others were rushing out? Surely they were experiencing fear. So if fear is not the opposite of courage, then what is? I think the best antonym for courage is "cowardice." A coward is someone who allows his fear to prevent him from being brave. Instead of controlling his fear, he lets his fear control him. When we are rearing our children, it's good to make them understand danger and to have a healthy fear of it; yet at the same time, we teach them courage by showing them that there are times when we have to hold our heads up and walk straight into scary situations. Those lessons are taught by example. It may be something as simple as, "I know it's frightening being the new kid at school, but we have to do it anyway." One other point: Notice that I've used the term, "healthy fear." Being a person of courage doesn't mean we take unnecessary risks. There's another word for that, which we'll get into later. God gave us a brain for a reason. Let's use it. Preston

Thinking Out Loud, Volume CCCXL

As a child, I used to love to listen to my grandparents as they would tell me about the "good old days." (Or is it supposed to be "good ole days?" I never really learned for sure which one is correct.) It never occurred to me to question exactly what period of time the good old days took place, so all I knew was they had ended some time before I came along. I felt cheated because I had been born much too late to be able to experience such a romantic period of history. After all, they got to ride in a horse drawn wagon everywhere they went, while we had to travel in a car. Besides that, they got to do fun things like pick cotton by hand, and chop firewood, yet my parents made me do such horrible chores as sitting on the porch shelling peas and butter beans. It was a disgrace, I tell you. That brings us back to our main question: When did the good old days take place? I can remember my parents laughing when my younger brother asked my dad if he was alive back in the old days, but I couldn't understand what was funny about it. I thought it was a legitimate question. Since I'm nearing the period of life where I can be referred to as a senior citizen, I've started giving some thought to the good old days and what I missed out on. One of the first things that comes to mind is if I had lived back in that period of time, I'd be dead by now. That thought takes some of the appeal away from the good old days. Then I started thinking about the things I've experienced that would seem to my grandparents like science fiction. For instance, there was one day not too long ago when I ate breakfast at my house in Louisiana, ate lunch in Salina, Kansas, and was back home again for dinner...all the same day. Just this morning, I participated in a conference call with colleagues from around the country, and when I would speak, my voice was heard by co-workers in practically every corner of the United States. Those are just two examples of things I've experienced that the people from the good old days couldn't even dream of. So...again I ask, when were the good old days? Let me tell you why my mind has been on this topic. Just a few nights ago, Lake, my six year old grandson, was spending the night at our house, and at bedtime, he asked, "Poppa, will you lie down with me and tell me a story before you go to bed?" "Sure," I replied, "What story do you want to hear?" He responded, "I like it when you tell me about when you were a little boy." That's when it occurred to me that, although he didn't use those exact terms, he was wanting to hear about the good old days. "That's it!" I thought. "Now I know the exact period of time that's known as 'the good old days.' It's any period of time in history, other than the present." You see, today is not one of the good old days. But when today becomes tomorrow, it will be, and the further we move away from today, the more it qualifies to be called a good old day. Today Lake is just a little boy in a great big world, but many years from now when I'm long gone and he has assumed the position I now hold as "Poppa," it will dawn on him that, although it doesn't seem like it at the time, this period of time we're experiencing right now will be the "good old days" for his offspring. I guess the words to that song are true after all: "These are the good old days." Preston

Thinking Out Loud, Volume CCCXXXIX

When you drive through a school zone, especially during the intervals of time between 7:00 & 9:00 am and 2:00 & 4:00 pm, you're supposed to slow down. It's the law, and there's a pretty steep penalty if you choose to disobey. It should be obvious to anyone why that law is in place. So....do you slow down in school zones? I think we all know it's the right thing to do, but what if there was no speed limit or penalties for not reducing your speed? Would you still slow down anyway? As children, most of us were taught right from wrong. And, for most of us, as part of the learning process, we received some type of punishment when we did wrong. The purpose for that punitive action was to get us ready for adulthood when there would no longer be someone there to watch over us, making sure we always did the right thing. The ideal situation would be that all adults would choose to do what's right, thus making many of the laws we have on the books unnecessary. It's apparent that we don't live in an ideal world. Sometimes I ask myself what kind of person I would be if there was no penalty for doing wrong. Is fear of punishment the driving force behind my title as a law abiding citizen? I'm the type of man that many people refer to as a "devout Christian." Why? Do I live this life because it's the best way to live, or because I fear Hell? If it's the latter, I'm afraid I may have a flaw in my motivation. Can I honestly say I love God if my primary purpose for obeying Him is a fear of what will happen to me if I don't? Do I love God or am I simply scared of Him? If my relationship with God is based on fear, then my motivation is selfishness....all about me. If I'm a believer of the Bible, which I am, then I have to believe in Heaven and Hell, but as I meditate on the points I've just mentioned, I firmly believe that if there was no Heaven to gain or Hell to shun, I would still want to live the kind of life I live. Just like everybody else I know, I still mess up so much more than I care to discuss, but I really feel that the reason I strive to be the man I need to be is simply because it's the right thing to do. If I speed through the school zone, I'll have to pay a fine. If I get caught shoplifting, I may have to spend a few days in jail. If I rob a bank or commit rape, I may have to go to prison for several years. So....I don't do those things. However, if all those penalties are removed, I'm still not gonna commit those acts, because my parents brought me up in "the way I should go," and when I became older, I didn't "depart from it." I want to live right simply because it's a better life than living wrong. Preston

Thinking Out Loud, Volume CCCXXXVIII

It was a dreary evening in northern Louisiana. Menacing clouds were hanging low with a fine mist in the air; it was unseasonably warm for November, and I could see lightning in the distance toward the northeast. After spending practically an entire day working in the Shreveport area, I was tired and glad to be on the interstate heading home, but it turned out to be a trip I won't soon forget. Within minutes that distant lightning became not so distant, and almost as quickly it was all around me, the rain was coming down in sheets, and it felt as if the wind would either blow me off the road or blow a tree down in front of me....or both. I turned on my flashers and slowed my car down to about twenty miles per hour. Even the big tractor-trailer rigs were traveling about the same speed as me. Suddenly, from out of nowhere, a late model Chevy pickup truck passed me, and it had to be going at least eighty miles per hour. All I could think was, "What an idiot! I'll probably be seeing him wrapped around a tree in a few minutes." I was wrong about the tree, but in no more than five minutes, I saw him in the median, buried up to his axles in mud. All I could say was, "That turned out good. He's better off there than on the road." No, I didn't stop to help. Maybe I should have. At the moment, I was just happy to see him where he was. Later on, as I would tell that story to my friends, some would suggest that maybe he had a good reason for driving so fast, like an emergency at home, etc. Really? Does that excuse him for putting his life and the lives of everyone else on the highway, including mine, in danger? Doesn't arriving a few minutes later beat not arriving at all? The truth is, none of us will ever know what his motivation was that evening. What I do know is he wasn't using wisdom. I'm not really sure why the events of that November evening have stuck so vividly in my memory. Maybe it's because I found out later that night that several tornadoes had touched down in the area, with the town of Olla almost being wiped off the map. I must say, however, that it has served as a reminder for me to use this little brain I have at all times. In other words, to think before I act...or speak, and to ask myself what will be the consequences of my actions or words. At the time that I'm writing this article, I'm sitting in a hotel room in Fort Smith, Arkansas, and I just left a restaurant where a new waitress was on her first night on the job. I know she was nervous, and was more than likely feeling a little awkward. But she could've at least smiled, or is that something she has to be told to do? I had to wonder if it ever crossed her mind how she might be viewed by the patrons in that restaurant. I'm aware of the fact that I'm being a little hard on her, but she'll never know it. You see, I'm an observer of people, and I learn from them. Without knowing it, some of them instruct me how to act, while others are teaching me how NOT to act. All of them remind me to use my brain. Yes, I do see the faults in other people and learn from what I see, but I also see many of my own shortcomings....I just keep those to myself. What I'm really trying to do is become perfect. I've got a long way to go, and so do you. I've been watching us both. Preston

Thinking Out Loud, Volume CCCXXXVII

It was a day that changed my life forever, but when I woke up that morning I had no idea that it would be that kind of day. Can you look back and recall some of those days in your life? Let me tell you about mine. It was Halloween Day...Saturday, October 31, 1970. My best buddies were twins...Ricky & Rocky Melvin. (I'm happy to report that almost forty-two years later, that friendship still thrives.) That morning they had invited me to go duck hunting with them, and after a fruitless hunt, we had planned to try our luck again just before dark that evening. It was not to be, because someone else had made some plans, involving me, that I didn't know about. A Halloween party had been planned for the youth at our church that night, but I wasn't planning on going since I had another duck hunt in the works. About mid-day I was just hanging out at the house, wearing a pair of my dad's old coveralls that were about six sizes too big, and my grandpa's old hat. I had not shaved in over a week. Our pastor's daughter, Mary Gray, who is about my age (also still a friend), just "happened to drop by" looking for some old dresses she might could wear to the party that night, and she had a beautiful friend with her who had come to spend the weekend. That's when Mary introduced me to Angie Fontenot. Wow! Suddenly that evening's all important hunting trip began to lose its luster, and my priorities for the day began to change. We had some weights in one room of our house where Angie impressed me with how much she could lift. Soon afterward, I was showing off by displaying my talent on the keyboard. Actually, I think we were both smitten immediately. So I called the Melvin boys and told them I would not be available for the duck hunt that evening, because I had a party to attend. By nightfall, I was clean-shaven and was wearing some stylish clothes that were actually my size. After spending some time at the party, I asked Angie if she would like to sneak away with me and go to the Burger Barn for a Coke. She and I lived more than a hundred miles apart, but after that fateful Halloween night, it was a trip we both made often. The reason I'm telling you this story is because in just two days Angie and I will be celebrating our fortieth wedding anniversary, and we're more in love now than we've ever been. I also think she's even more beautiful now than she was the day we met. One little joke that I've told down through the years is "we met on Halloween and I'm still trying to decide if I got a trick or a treat." I guess we can say our life together has been a bed of roses, if we consider the fact that a bed of roses has a few thorns. Our union has produced a beautiful daughter and a handsome son that have turned out to be the type of adults that would make any parent proud. I've done some foolish things in my life, and I've also done a few things right, but the best move I ever made was when I asked Angie Fontenot to be my wife. I'm so glad she said yes. That was a pretty smart move on her part too. Preston

Thinking Out Loud, Volume CCCXXXVI

Just a few short weeks ago our nation was shocked by yet another mass shooting rampage, this time in a movie theater in Aurora, Colorado. Now that some of the dust has settled, I would like to take this opportunity to share some of my thoughts and opinions on this disaster and the controversy that has ensued. When something like this happens, I, and probably most everyone else, have a tendency to surmise how we would react if we had loved ones who were victims of such a senseless act of cowardice. It's hard to image the degree of outrage I would feel, and just how much I may feel the urge to seek revenge on the perpetrator. As a general rule, I am not considered to be a person who is an over reactor, but chances are, in a situation like this, it would be a different story. Therefore, I feel that it is imperative for those of us who were not personally affected by this event to keep a clear head and not allow our emotions to cause us to jump to some conclusions that are not well thought out and based on common sense. Activists on both sides of the political spectrum like to follow the adage, "Never let a good tragedy go to waste," but I believe we come to better decisions when take the time to consider the pros and cons of both sides of the issue. Gun control advocates, like New York's Mayor Bloomberg, started preaching their convictions while the bodies of the ones who died in the massacre were still lying where they fell on the floor of the theater. I have my opinions, and I'm sure you have yours, but let's step back and look at this logically. Do average citizens need assault rifles that are designed to shoot more than a hundred rounds per minute? Those weapons were not created for hunting; they were designed to kill people. My answer is, "No, we don't need them," but does that mean they should be banned? Let's answer that question with a couple of other questions, "How much of our freedom are we willing to sacrifice for the sake of security?," and "Would banning guns make us more secure?" I happen to know that illicit drugs are illegal, yet they are becoming more plentiful in our society with each passing year. What if we just outlawed murder? Wait, I think we've already done that, but it didn't seem to stop that deranged young man in Colorado. I don't have any hard facts to back up my claim, but I would venture to guess that less than one hundredth of one per cent of gun owners in our nation would ever even consider shooting at another human being, so is it fair to take away the constitutional rights of the 99.99% of the population just to get at the .01%? Maybe we should just enforce the laws that are already on the books, especially the ones pertaining to convicted felons and those with mental illnesses. I heard of another group who wanted to ban violent movies. Really? Do we actually want our government telling us what movies we can or cannot watch? As for me, I despise violence, so I refuse to pay my hard-earned money to go see something I hate, but that is my personal choice, and I certainly don't want politicians telling me I can't watch them if I decide that's what I want to do. I heard one report that said the youngest victim of the shooting was six years old. My initial reaction to that information was, "Who would take a six year old to the midnight showing of that kind of picture?," but as strong as my opinion is on that subject, it was not my child, so it's not my place to tell those parents how to raise theirs. The last time I checked, making unwise decisions is still legal, and is one of the privileges of living in the United States. As Americans, we have so many issues that need to be corrected, but I don't believe curtailing our freedom is the proper way to solve our problems. I really do think I know the answer however. It seems to me that our downward spiral began in the 1960s when we began to push God out of our schools and government. Let me refer you to 2 Corinthians 7:14: "If My people who are called by My name will humble themselves, and pray and seek My face, then I will hear from heaven, and will forgive their sin and heal their land." Notice the last three words of that verse, "heal their land." What is it gonna take to get us to the point to where we will put that promise to the test? Hopefully not much more. Preston

Thinking Out Loud, Volume CCCXXXV

I've had to face up to a few facts. I remember a few years ago I saw a little prayer that a friend had in a picture frame hanging on her wall that said, "Lord, grant me the serenity to change the things I can, to accept the things I cannot, and the wisdom to know the difference." I thought it was a nice prayer for a picture frame, but recently I've been reminded about it as I've had to apply it to my own life. If you will notice, it's a three-part prayer, so I will describe each section and discuss how it applies to me. Part 1: "Grant me the serenity to change the things I can." Things are going to change. Even if I sit here and do nothing, my body will get soft and flabby, my endurance level will evaporate, and my self discipline and work ethic will go out the window. It just doesn't have to be that way, because there's something I can do about it...I can affect that change. It is within my power to change that situation for the better, and with God's help, I'm going to do it. That's why it's important for me to pray that first part. Part 2: "To accept the things I cannot." In the past few weeks, I've had the opportunity to help a couple of individuals that I want to tell you about. In a prior article, I've already mentioned one of them. When my son was stripping out the old flooring from his house in preparation for a new floor, I was there to help. It was hard work, and we had to take quite a few rest breaks. The only trouble was, my breaks were more frequent and longer lasting than his, mainly because he's twenty-eight years younger than I am. The second one is a friend who is fifteen years older than me, and he needed a hand in moving some things around in his office, and I was glad to oblige. This time it was him who was having to stop more often to rest. It made me realize that I'll never again have as much stamina as my thirty-three year old son now possesses, and chances are, I have as much now as I'll ever have. It's a fact of life that I have to accept. Part 3: "The wisdom to know the difference." If I have the ability to view my life as it really is, to know where to place my efforts, and the areas where I would be spinning my wheels, I'll be a happier person. Just the knowledge that I'm putting as much into life as I possibly can, and giving it all I've got, will make me feel better about myself and keep my attitude more positive; and that good attitude will make all the difference in the world. The man I quote the most, T.F. Tenney, once made the statement that "getting old is not for wimps." The older I get, the more I realize just how much wisdom can be found in that short phrase. Accepting the fact that we're aging can be one of the most depressing hurdles we'll have to overcome, but a failure to accept it can make life even more difficult. Now if you're thinking that I'm suggesting that we should just roll over and die, please refer back to "Part 1." If there's something I can do to improve my situation, you can rest assured that I'm gonna be doing all I can to make it happen. However, if it's completely out of my control, I refuse to waste my precious energy trying to change it. I'm enough of a realist to understand that this battle against old age is one I will eventually lose, but I firmly believe that it is within my power to push that inevitable occurrence further into the future. That's where I'm putting my efforts. Lord, give me the wisdom to make it happen. Amen. Preston

Thinking Out Loud, Volume CCCXXXIV

It was just a dream. To be more specific, I was daydreaming. With my job, I spend a lot of time behind the wheel of my car, which gives me time to think. On this particular day, my youngest child, a son, had just gotten married, and as I was driving down the highway, I was giving some thought to the new situation that Angie and I found ourselves in and wondering how we would handle the empty nest syndrome now facing us. Naturally, my thoughts moved into the future as I faced the very real prospect that in a couple years or so, there would be some new, tiny little feet walking on our floors. At first it seemed weird that I may actually soon become a grandparent, but as I thought about it, the daydreaming began. With my mind's eye, I began to picture the "grands" as toddlers, old enough to walk and enjoy spending some time with "Poppa." In this vision, I was walking along the Ouachita River, holding the hand of a small child, as I answered questions that would automatically come from a young, inquiring mind. We walked a long way downstream, which naturally required an equally lengthy stroll back up the river, just to get back to the car. The conversation was non-stop. As the dream continued, we reached the Endom Bridge which has a designated area for pedestrians, so with a tiny hand in mine, we strolled across the river and back. When we finally began to tire, without even being asked, this perfect grandparent offered to stop at the store for a Coke and a candy bar. Of course, I dreamed of several other exploits, but for some reason, the stroll along the river stuck in my mind. Now, let's fast-forward four or five years. The dream about the tiny little feet turned into reality. Then one day I received a text from my son asking if I would be available that afternoon to pick up my grandson from Pre-K. When I had him safely buckled in the car, my mind suddenly went back to that dream from a few years past. What a perfect time to make it happen! With just a few minor changes, that vision came true, almost verbatim to the way I had dreamed it. As I think back, I can only recall two variations from the original version: I was asked to stop by the store before I ever had a chance to offer, and it was to get an Icee instead of a Coke. One other slight change from the dream was the fact that I hadn't foreseen the possibility that he would inherit (from me) a fear of heights, which made the walk across the bridge a little less enjoyable than what I had visioned. Otherwise, it was a dream come true! Ladies and gentlemen, I am one lucky individual! To have dreamed the dream, and then have reality become a carbon copy of that dream, is almost more than I could've asked for. Rest assured, the dreams are continuing, and they're phenomenal! In fact, there's another little set of feet that are now following that first pair, and the dreams for her are just as wonderful as they were for her big brother. Shame on me if I don't thank the Lord every day for blessing me so much more than I deserve. Some great days are ahead! I know, because I dreamed them. Preston

Thinking Out Loud, Volume CCCXXXIII

I'm a salesman. That's what I do for a living. In my industry, I'm what's known as a multi-line rep, which means that I'm a self employed contractor who sells merchandise for several different companies. Too many times in my career, I've seen instances where the salesman will successfully promote his product until it gets to the point where this formerly unheard of brand becomes a household name, and then the company will feel that their product is so popular that the salesman who built it up is no longer needed. I'm speaking not only from personal experience, but also from what I've heard from some of my cohorts. That has forced me, and men and women like me, to change our tactics when we're pushing our products. My new method of salesmanship is to sell the customer on me, with the product being secondary. Believe it or not, that plan works. I've actually had companies, who have felt that they could sell just as much product without me working the field, call me up and admit that they had no idea how loyal my customers are to me, and ask me to come back. Sometimes I go out on a limb and do favors for my clients, and when I do, I always make sure they know it was me doing it for them, not the company. That's how I operate in the business world, but I have to confess that I sometimes find it difficult to separate my business life from my personal life. What that means is sometimes I will try to do a personal favor for a friend, or maybe even for a stranger, and then toot my own horn so that the world will be aware of just what a nice guy I am, although I'm acting like a politician. According to the way I've been taught, if I do that and receive personal recognition as a result, that recognition is all the reward I will ever receive for my acts of kindness. But more than that, it's a character issue. It means I've acted selfishly. Although I was helping someone in need, I was doing it for my own glorification. Sure, the person I helped still benefits, but I've done myself a disservice, and I'm letting the world know just how shallow my character actually is. When I go to church, it's okay for others to see me worship or hear me pray, as long as I do the same thing when there's no one else around but God and me....and as long as I'm not doing it just to put on a show. If I'm asked to sing, play an instrument, teach, etc., I can only perform those activities in view of other people, so the real issue comes down to motive. Sometimes I do all those things I just mentioned, and when I do, I believe in giving it all I've got, so as a result, at least one time that I heard about, I've been accused of being a showman. It hurt my feelings, but it also made me stop to take inventory of my motives, just to make sure that I'm not simply trying to bring attention to myself. The real test comes when there's an opportunity to give of myself, and share my blessings when no one else will ever know anything about it. I've heard it said that the difference between reputation and character is my reputation is what others think I am, and my character is what I really am. Whether or not any of us want to admit it, we are concerned about our reputation, but how much effort do we put on character? I've come up with a plan that I firmly believe will settle the issue once and for all. Even though it's important that my fellow man has a good opinion of me, I need to quit worrying about my reputation. Instead, I should place all my emphasis on becoming a man of honorable character. If I'm a man of character, a good reputation will automatically follow. It doesn't work the other way around. Preston

Thinking Out Loud, Volume CCCXXXII

Dad made a mistake. I'm not being critical...I'm here to defend him. As a matter of fact, he's the one who told me he had messed up. For a little better perspective, let me give you some background details. Dad was born in 1917, which means if he was still living he would be ninety-five years old. Just like you and me, he witnessed a lot of changes in this world during his lifetime. As a young man, Dad purchased a 16mm movie camera which took high quality pictures, even by today's standards. As a result, he left a treasure trove of memories for my siblings and me, including videos of me being pushed in a stroller by my mother and my sister's first steps. He was employed by the railroad, so naturally trains held a special interest for him, but the trains he was accustomed to seeing were totally different from the type of locomotives that you and I have seen all our lives. In his day, steam engines were the norm. Then a new phenomenon hit the industry....big diesel engines....the kind you and I are accustomed to seeing today. When the first big diesel-powered train pulled in to the depot where he worked, he grabbed his movie camera, which in those days was never far from his side, and recorded it. What a moment that must have been!  I can remember so well as a child watching those old home movies as he described seeing that first big diesel engine, so we naturally asked, "Do you have any pictures of the old steam engines?" No, he didn't. It never occurred to him that some movies of the old things that were common to him may someday hold more value than the new inventions that so intrigued him at that time.  By the time he realized his error, it was too late. Even if I felt like being critical of his lack of foresight, I don't think I have any grounds to criticize him. Can you put put yourself in his shoes and think that you would've acted differently?  What kinds of pictures and videos are you recording today that capture images of old technology that will soon disappear...things your kids and grandkids will someday want to learn about?  How many pictures have you taken of records playing on the record player? Did you record any of the old forty-fives with the wider hole in the center that had to be played with the use of an adapter?  Do you still have any pictures of your old 8-track tape player? What about regular light bulbs, land line telephones, dollar bills, gasoline powered automobiles, lap top computers, wire-rimmed notebooks, riding mowers with steering wheels, etc.?  All those things, as well as countless other items that we now take for granted are likely to soon disappear. Who would have ever thought that typewriters would become a thing of the past? As much as I would love to see some old home movies of my dad working around an old steam engine, I can't be mad at him for never filming it. I have a camera. Why am I not capturing images of my family using products that will be gone tomorrow? To be honest, Dad did a better job of that than I've done. Preston

Thinking Out Loud, Volume CCCXXXI

I've heard it said that "all people are created equal, but some are more equal than others."  I guess it all depends on the perspective of the beholder. Do you view everyone as equals, with no regards to wealth, skin color, education, or family background? Do you ever wonder how you are viewed by others? I've seen studies that show where good-looking people have a better shot in life than than their less beautiful counterparts, as unfair as that may seem. If you're completely honest with yourself, do you have to admit that you act more favorably toward the more attractive, better dressed, maybe even younger members of society, especially those of the opposite sex? As I write this, I'm sitting in the busy waiting room of a doctor's office, and I have to admit that I tend to look more often and longer at the better dressed, more attractive visitors who come through here, but as I observe the the entire room, I notice that the majority of the people in here are just as guilty as I am. And to take it one step further, there's a game show on their television, and I find myself pulling for the better looking contestants. Am I, and the rest of the patrons in this waiting room, being totally unfair? What if the "beautiful people" put forth more effort on their appearance than the others? Doesn't that effort earn them a little more recognition? Does the person who jumped out of bed this morning at the last minute and threw on her clothes with no consideration as to how she looks have a right to be jealous of the attention being paid to the one who got up early enough to spend some time on her appearance?  What about the doctors who work in this office?  Don't they deserve a higher income after they worked so hard and sacrificed so much to get through medical school? Sometimes I find myself being nicer to the people who have been nicer to me.  Surely that's fair, huh?  If I'm in a position to do a special favor for someone today, isn't it logical for me to give it to the person with the smile on his face instead of the one with the sour attitude? As a young man, fresh out of college, I soon found myself in a management position, with the responsibility of hiring and firing employees. With a strong desire to be as compassionate as possible, and to also have a positive impact on society, I made up my mind to base hiring decisions to a great extent on the prospective employee's need for the job. My motives were pure, but my plan was a failure. I've been asked on occasion who was the best employee I ever hired, and every time, my mind goes immediately to a young lady named Nancy, the daughter of one of the wealthiest men in town.  As a matter of fact, her dad promised her if she would get a job, he would match what she earned, dollar for dollar, which meant she was actually making double the amount I was paying her.  I'm still grateful that I had the privilege of working with Nancy, but I would never have known her if that hiring decision had been based solely on "need." Sometimes I struggle with the issues I've just put forth, trying to find the proper balance between what people need and what they deserve. I understand that only God has the ability to look into a person's heart and mind to see their true intentions to know what they actually deserve, but as I try to pattern my life after Christ, I must keep in mind that some issues, such as beauty and financial position, are not as important to Him as they are to me.  I don't think God has a problem with beauty and wealth, which means that He won't withhold blessings from those who have it....but, neither will He favor them because of it. Trying to be "Christ-like" is not always as easy as it sounds, but I'm still working at it. He knows that, too. Preston

Thinking Out Loud, Volume CCCXXX

The auditorium at George Welch Elementary School was filled to capacity, with standing room only, as parents, grandparents, uncles, aunts, cousins and family friends gathered to watch as eighty-three  students marched down the aisle for the 2012 kindergarten graduation.  When the processional began, hundreds of cameras began flashing as proud family members began snapping photos of their favorite little graduates, and no one there could've been more proud than I was.  It was a noisy place as several hundred people all seemed to be talking at the same time, until my little grandson stepped to the microphone and said, "Let's all stand for the prayer and the pledge."  Maybe I'm bragging a little bit here, but he said the sweetest little prayer that actually brought tears to my eyes.  Yes, I was (and still am) proud, and I told him so.  My heart swelled just a little more when they began giving out awards and he was selected to receive the Sportsmanship Award.  But it was that last seemingly small recognition he received that touched me the most, although in the whole scheme of things, it came across as a relatively minor honor as he and a few other students were recognized for "Perfect Attendance."  I think the reason it affected me the way it did is because it confirmed to me that one of the life lessons that I tried to instill into my children was now being passed down to another generation...the lesson of dependability.    He was supposed to be there every day; he was expected to be there every day; and so he was.  I firmly believe that when habits of dependability and faithfulness are taught to our children, those same habits will stick with them throughout adulthood.  One of the greatest, most valuable character traits that any man can attain is the fact that he is "a man of his word."  How many people do you know who will tell you with the best of intentions, "You can depend on me," when we know from their past actions that what they promised may or may not happen.  That's because they allow other distractions to gain a higher priority than their word; then when they are forced to explain or offer excuses for their failure to keep their word, those same "high priority" distractions begin to appear somewhat lame.    None of us are exempt from occasional catastrophes that throw up a roadblock in the path of our good intentions, but to "a man of his word," those events are rare, and that's because of the importance he puts on his word and the value he places on being dependable.  One of the definitions of a Christian is someone who is "Christ-like," and Jesus Christ is the perfect example of "a man of his word."  Selah.  Pause and think about that.  What does your reputation say about you when it comes to faithfulness, reliability, and dependability?  Whatever it says, it can be changed, both for good and bad.  If it says good things about me, I can lose that if I don't remain diligent; and if says I'm undependable, I can change my ways and, with time, transform a faulty reputation into one of honor.    Have you ever wondered what epitaph will be placed on your tombstone?  I can think of no greater honor than if mine would say, "He was a man of his word."  I love the way a friend put it to me one day a while back when he was talking about a mutual friend, "If he said it, you can put it in the bank."   Preston

Thinking Out Loud, Volume CCCXXIX

Some people just get on my nerves. Mainly because they're idiots. Well, I don't guess it's really fair to call them idiots because when it comes to intelligence, they're fairly normal. It's more like...well...they have some annoying habits. And...in addition to those stupid habits, you should hear who they voted for in the last election. Then, for some odd reason, one of them is a big Wake Forest fan, and he wears that ugly W/F sweatshirt everywhere he goes. And you should hear his wife. She has that squeaky, whiny voice that reminds me of someone scraping their fingernails on a chalk board. What I'm trying to say is I could accept them much better if they were...well, if they were more like me. Take those annoying habits, for example. While I'm not totally habit-free, I have only two or three that would be considered annoying, and they have at least...well, I can think of two. Okay, we'll forget the annoying habits. Let's talk about how they voted. I will accept the fact that they voted for the person they thought would be the best candidate, but, you see, I voted for the one that I thought would be...the best candidate. Are you starting to see why they get on my nerves so much? You're not? Well, if you had to see that old ugly gold and black sweatshirt with the big "WF" on the front, you'd understand. Yes, I wear my team's shirt too, but it's not gold and black, unless you're talking about my NFL team. Well, at least my voice is not squeaky. Granted, my accent may annoy a few people, and perhaps my singing voice may be a little unnerving, but I don't squeak. Of course, I have to admit that his wife can hit the high notes like few people can. Actually, those annoying people have been nice to me. That makes me wonder if I've ever gotten on their nerves. If I did, they didn't let it show, but then, neither did I. That makes me ask one more tough question: Am I holding them to a higher standard than what I can attain? Shame on me! I think I'll give them a call. They may become my new best friends. Preston

Thinking Out Loud, Volume CCCXXVIII

Just for the record, I'm a Christian. A pretty good one, actually...even if I have to say so myself. I'm also a business man. One thing I've learned as a business man and as a Christian is the fact that many of the same principles hold true for both. One such principle has to do with my competition. In the business world as well as in my Christian walk there are forces who desire to stifle any successes I might achieve and turn them into progress for their own agendas. Therefore it would serve me well to study the tactics of my competitors and always be aware of the methods they're using to further their causes. When I do that, I will see the techniques they're using that appear to be working, and when it's proper to do so, I can adopt those same methods for my own purposes. It would not be too difficult to find people who would readily admit that they do that in the business world, but is it okay to follow the same practices in our lives as Christians? I think it is. Allow me to explain. First let me tell you how this idea came to me. My son and daughter-in-law were preparing to have new flooring installed in their home, and I was helping them strip off the old wood and tile. Believe me...that was a tough job, especially for us who had never done that type of work before. Whoever installed the old floor glued it really well, making our job much more difficult. We were constantly looking for some little tricks that would make our task easier, and Charlie, my son, said, "I've figured out that if I look for a weak spot and attack it, it works much better." I replied, "That's how the devil operates." Charlie joked, "That's where I learned it." I came back with, "Yeah, I guess we could take a few lessons from the devil." Satan is my enemy and I hate him, but I have to admit that he's pretty good at what he does. Can you think of some of his methods of operation that we might should emulate? Think about it! He never ever gives up on anyone. No matter how old I live to be, he will continue to work on me as if I was an adolescent. He doesn't discriminate against any individual, regardless of their race, religion, age, gender, or financial condition....he treats everyone the same. He's constantly on the lookout for any type of opportunity that may come available, which also means that he's always on the job. He's not lazy. He has learned to take good work habits and use them for evil intent, and he has made some great strides toward his wicked purposes by using those techniques. What's stopping us from adopting some of his methods and using them for good? I have no doubt that if we copy his ideas that do not go against the laws of God, we'll beat him at his own game. There's nothing wrong with that. Preston

Thinking Out Loud, Volume CCCXXVII

Ahhhh! I love those days, those nights, those places, those people with whom I can just sit back and relax, forgetting about all the worries that plague us all practically every day of our lives. And those good times leave us with pleasant memories that will stay with us for a long, long time. I don't have to reach very far back into my memory bank to recall such events. Just a few weeks ago we took a running trip to Oklahoma City, and on the Friday night that we arrived in town, we went to Starbucks in the Bricktown area, bought us some coffee, and just sat outside enjoying the breeze, conversing with friends, and watching people go by and the baby ducks playing in the water. So relaxing. We have a family trip planned in the next few weeks to the mountains of North Georgia, and I'm hoping it turns out to be a worry-free event that will give us happy memories for the rest of our lives. Just remembering those special times can brighten our days when we're in the middle of the chaos of our normal lives. Do you have any of those special times in your life that bring smiles of joy to your face when they come to your mind? If not, you need to try to make it happen. It's good for your health, and it can prolong your life. During the times when I'm making an effort to count my blessings, I find myself so overwhelmed by the number of close friends we have, and also at the harmonious relationship we have with our family that I have to just say, "Thank you Lord for blessing me the way you have done." I may not have as much money as many of the people I know, but I have to look long and hard to find someone who is more blessed than I am. There's just one tiny problem that I've been working on trying to fix, and I often wonder how many of you have to deal with the same issue. It seems that I can never get to the point to where I'm just totally one hundred per cent at ease. Are you that way too? I feel like I can move my problems and negative thoughts off the front burner, but they just never seem to completely leave my mind. I guess what I'm saying is I don't feel like I'm ever fully relaxed. Am I the only one who has to deal with this issue, or is it even possible to flush every negative or worrisome thought out of our minds? I can get there to a point, but never as far as I want to go. Now please don't forget that I just told you how much I love those times of relaxation with friends and family. I really mean that!! I'm just trying to see if there's a way I can make them even better. I'm sure trying! Preston

Thinking Out Loud, Volume CCCXXVI

I don't use profanity. Well, not now at least. In the third grade, it was a different story....for a while. One of my buddies at school "cussed" every other breath, and I took it as an opportunity to greatly expand my vocabulary by learning a few choice words from him. I was a quick learner and everything was going great until the day I came home from school and proudly used some of my newly acquired colorful language in front of my mother. Oh! My! Goodness! She explained to me in ways that I'll never forget that I was not to ever use that type of vulgarity again. Her method worked! Well, it worked until that time a few years ago when, as an adult, a couple bad words slipped out before I knew what was happening. Here's how it happened. I had spent a couple of weeks working around some potty mouth guys, and then, at a most inopportune time, their influence had an effect on me in front of a guy that I greatly respected, and it came out before I knew it. If anyone around was surprised that I talked like that, their surprise was not nearly as great as mine. And that brings me to my point of the day. Sometimes I think we're much more easily influenced than we think we are. More than likely all of us feel that we're tough enough and strong willed enough to not let the actions of those around us have an influence on us. Really? Well, try this experiment. If you're from the South, try moving to Minnesota for a couple years and then move back south again. Even though the people you talk to in Minnesota will always notice your southern accent, when you get back to the South, all the southerners will think you now talk like a Yankee. There's one place in the Bible where Paul instructs us "when in Rome, do as the Romans." I believe if we stay in Rome long enough, we'll do that anyway. That's why it's so important to be particular about the company we keep on a regular basis. I also believe that all of us have our strong points and we all have our weak points. Therefore, if I have a history of being weak in certain areas, I should avoid other people who share the same weaknesses. For example, if I'm a reformed alcoholic, I should not keep regular company with people who drink. If I'm a person with a history of cheating on my spouse, even though I feel that I've had a transformation of heart, I should still avoid allowing myself to get into situations where I may be tempted to fall back down into that same old pit. Some days we're just not as strong as we are on other days, and we never know what days they will be. I'm reminded of the movie "Fireproof" when the main character who was trying to overcome an addiction to pornography finally took his computer out into the back yard and chopped it up with an axe. I guess my main point is we should never feel that we're at a point in our lives where we're beyond being influenced by our peers. None of us are as insulated as we think we are. If we stay in Rome long enough, we'll become Romans. Preston

Thinking Out Loud, Volume CCCXXV

This article may not be without controversy. It has to do with my thoughts on hunting. Now, before you get your feathers all ruffled, let me make it clear that I don't have even the slightest objection to hunting as a sport, especially when it's done to help put food on the table. Although as a teenager I would hunt squirrels, rabbits and ducks, probably the main reason that I only kept it up for a short time is because I never really acquired a taste for wild game. Another reason may be that for many years I had a job that left me no time for any type of extracurricular activities. I barely had time for my family, much less for anything else. So now that I've reached age sixty, I can't foresee me developing a taste for wild game or becoming a hunter. I realize that many of my family and friends, including many who are regular readers of my blog, are avid hunters, so let me re-emphasize that I have no problem with that whatsoever. I also understand that with fewer predators, there has been a population explosion of deer. I'm amazed at how many deer I see just down the street from my house, in the middle of a large residential area, and I live in the heart of town, only a block away from the city hall. For the general health and survival of the species, the herds need to be thinned in many areas, and hunting is a good way of helping to accomplish that goal. Hunting also provides some perfect bonding opportunities, especially for fathers and sons. Dads who spend quality time, such as hunting, with their sons will be much more likely to see those boys turn into quality, responsible men. So where's the controversy? There's one type of hunting that I think is just plain wrong. It's referred to by many as "high fence" hunting. It is a situation where wild game is kept in fairly small areas, surrounded by a fence that is too high for a deer to jump over, and hunters are charged some pretty high fees for the privilege of "hunting" in those pens where the game has no chance. In my opinion, there is no sport in high fence hunting. As I was discussing last week, it wouldn't be considered a sport without the possibility of failure. When the hunter is guaranteed a kill, then the sport is gone and the hunter is out there simply for the joy of killing an animal. I just don't understand how people find pleasure in that type of hunting. I'll make my point one more time--if you enjoy the sport of hunting, I'm wishing you success and I hope you have a good time. If you have a son who would like to go with you, please take him and teach him how to be a real sportsman, which includes hunting animals who at least have a chance of survival. Please don't teach him to kill just for the fun of killing. Where's the sport in that? Preston

Thinking Out Loud, Volume CCCXXIV

One of my friends was telling me that she has been reading about a Native American tribe in the Dakotas who has one of the highest suicide rates in the country. When the experts were brought in to evaluate the problem, one of the things they noted was that the members of this tribe are totally dependent on the government for their livelihood. How can that be? Here's a group of people who should have no worries, no pressure, or no insecurity. They never have to worry where their next meal will come from, because all their needs are being met by you and me...the taxpayers. I'm sure that when Congress made the decision to totally support this group of people, they were doing what they thought was fair and proper, especially after the way they had been treated by our country a hundred years ago. I don't think anyone would disagree with the fact that they got a raw deal as their land and way of life was taken from them when they were rounded up and forced to live on reservations. Now, however, we must ask ourselves if we are still giving them a raw deal by removing their reason for living. Sometimes when I come home from work at the end of a long day or a long week, I think about how nice it would be to just be able to sit back and relax all day without a care in the world. I could sleep until I decide I want to get up, I could leave when I like and not come home until I'm ready. I wouldn't have to worry about my kids, because they would be living the same lifestyle. What a life! Then I take a look at reality. I've observed people who've reached retirement age and that's exactly the life they live. The problem is, they don't live long. I've noticed other of my elders who have retired, but they find something to keep them busy, something to challenge them, and they live a long life. There must be some connection there, and I think I may know what it is. Since I'm a runner, please allow me to use a running analogy to try to describe what I'm talking about. Running is my passion, but if you see me at the eight-mile point of a thirteen mile run and you ask me if I'm having fun, the answer will most likely be a resounding, "No!" If that's the case, then why do I continue to run? I believe there's an inherent need in all of us for a challenge. Although during the run I can't honestly say that I'm having a good time, the joy comes when I'm able to say, "Mission accomplished." No sports fan wants to see his team lose, but he would not enjoy the games if losing was not a possibility. The chance of failure keeps us going, and as we get better at what we're doing and failure becomes less likely, we then have a tendency to up the odds. No one wants to fail, but I don't think we can feel like our lives have value if the chance of failure is removed. The time will come in all our lives when we'll be forced to slow down...it's just a fact of life...but we must not stop. Let me refer you to Isaiah 40:31: "They who hope in the Lord will renew their strength. They will mount on wings like eagles. They will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint." Notice the order of events in that scripture. First you fly, then you run, then you walk, but stopping is not even mentioned as an option. If we want to be successful, we must keep striving with the possibility of failure continually in front of us. Preston