Isaiah 40
28 Hast thou not known? hast thou not heard, that the everlasting God, the LORD, the Creator of the ends of the earth, fainteth not, neither is weary? there is no searching of his understanding.
29 He giveth power to the faint; and to them that have no might he increaseth strength.
30 Even the youths shall faint and be weary, and the young men shall utterly fall:
31 But they that wait upon the LORD shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint.
Sunday, June 28, 2020
Saturday, June 27, 2020
Jesus loves us best
Jesus said we should love everyone...except maybe that guy...and definitely not that group over there. I mean, the very idea! Oh, and not this group. Seriously, Jesus wouldn't love them and wouldn't expect us to, either.
And it goes without saying--but I'm going to anyway--that those folks who look different are certainly not worthy of being loved or forgiven. Jesus meant all these exceptions, but they slipped His mind what with all the healing and preaching and stuff.
Fortunately, He has us to shore up the cracks. If He didn't have us to condemn those who believe differently and live differently than us, who knows what kind of riff-raff would get into Heaven? I'm sure He appreciates our efforts. After all, He loves us best.
Doesn't He?
And it goes without saying--but I'm going to anyway--that those folks who look different are certainly not worthy of being loved or forgiven. Jesus meant all these exceptions, but they slipped His mind what with all the healing and preaching and stuff.
Fortunately, He has us to shore up the cracks. If He didn't have us to condemn those who believe differently and live differently than us, who knows what kind of riff-raff would get into Heaven? I'm sure He appreciates our efforts. After all, He loves us best.
Doesn't He?
Friday, June 26, 2020
Decision
I have decided--after long consideration and much soul searching and consulting with learned oracles--that I can't care about everything. Or even most things. It appears my care well is nearly dry, and thus I must conserve the precious care for things I actually do care about: my family, my friends, my community, my state, my nation...
That list still feels large, but it allows me to not care about other people's stances on statues, their impassioned pleas about movies and TV shows, their desperate defense of...cartoons, God help us.
Mind you, I think I may get more of this since I have friends all over the political spectrum from the far right to the far left and plenty in the middle. Sometimes my Facebook Timeline and Twitter Feed feel quite schizophrenic as the memes go from deifying President Trump to condemning him to the fieriest hell; from Black Lives Matter to Blue Lives Matter to All Lives Matter to LGBTQ Lives Matter; from COVID bubble buddies to COVID conspiracy theorists.
This is my fault, I guess. People who are good to me are my friends whatever their beliefs are and as long as they allow me to have mine. It's easy to be my friend as long as you're good to me. I don't require anything else.
But y'all are making me tired. You are so mean to people who hold different beliefs than you do. It's dismaying and discouraging. What I want from you, what I really, really, really want (Spice Girls reference!) is for y'all to treat each other the way you treat me. That would be awesome. It might help to remember that those labels you toss around--Republican, Democrat, Christian, Jew, gay, straight, etc.--all have real people behind them. People who struggle with this broken world just the way you do.
Anyway, see what you can do, okay? And remember, one day we will rise to greet a new dawn...together.
That list still feels large, but it allows me to not care about other people's stances on statues, their impassioned pleas about movies and TV shows, their desperate defense of...cartoons, God help us.
Mind you, I think I may get more of this since I have friends all over the political spectrum from the far right to the far left and plenty in the middle. Sometimes my Facebook Timeline and Twitter Feed feel quite schizophrenic as the memes go from deifying President Trump to condemning him to the fieriest hell; from Black Lives Matter to Blue Lives Matter to All Lives Matter to LGBTQ Lives Matter; from COVID bubble buddies to COVID conspiracy theorists.
This is my fault, I guess. People who are good to me are my friends whatever their beliefs are and as long as they allow me to have mine. It's easy to be my friend as long as you're good to me. I don't require anything else.
But y'all are making me tired. You are so mean to people who hold different beliefs than you do. It's dismaying and discouraging. What I want from you, what I really, really, really want (Spice Girls reference!) is for y'all to treat each other the way you treat me. That would be awesome. It might help to remember that those labels you toss around--Republican, Democrat, Christian, Jew, gay, straight, etc.--all have real people behind them. People who struggle with this broken world just the way you do.
Anyway, see what you can do, okay? And remember, one day we will rise to greet a new dawn...together.
Thursday, June 25, 2020
Cultivate our garden
I think work is good for us. It gives us purpose. It gives us a label. It gives us self-respect. When I was younger, I thought I couldn't wait until I couldn't work anymore. But when work ended, when my retirement was forced on me by health reasons, I realized that work was a blessing. It might be hard and frustrating--it often was--but now I realize what joy was in it, too. The routine, the challenges, the day-to-day of it all...it helped keep me going. Kept me young.
The world sells this picture of leisure as what we should be striving for, but work gives that leisure meaning. I'm not saying we should stay at a job where our soul is crushed, but it's that job that is bad. Work itself is a noble thing; it is a proud thing. We were made to work so that our times when we don't work are made more enjoyable by the contrast.
Of course, I'm not the first person to realize this and won't be the last.
The following is from the novel Candide, ou l'Optimisme known in English as Candide written by Voltaire (François-Marie Arouet) and published in 1759:
“I know also,” said Candide, “that we must cultivate our garden.”
“You are right,” said Pangloss, “for when man was first placed in the Garden of Eden, he was put there ut operaretur eum, that he might cultivate it; which shows that man was not born to be idle.”
“Let us work,” said Martin, “without disputing; it is the only way to render life tolerable.”
The whole little society entered into this laudable design, according to their different abilities. Their little plot of land produced plentiful crops. Cunegonde...became an excellent pastry cook; Paquette worked at embroidery; the old woman looked after the linen. ...Friar Giroflée...made a good joiner, and became a very honest man.
Pangloss sometimes said to Candide: “There is a concatenation of events in this best of all possible worlds: for if you had not been kicked out of a magnificent castle for love of Miss Cunegonde: if you had not been put into the Inquisition: if you had not walked over America: if you had not stabbed the Baron: if you had not lost all your sheep from the fine country of El Dorado: you would not be here eating preserved citrons and pistachio-nuts.”
“All that is very well,” answered Candide, “but let us cultivate our garden.”
-- End --
So let us cultivate our garden, my friends, as best we can.
The world sells this picture of leisure as what we should be striving for, but work gives that leisure meaning. I'm not saying we should stay at a job where our soul is crushed, but it's that job that is bad. Work itself is a noble thing; it is a proud thing. We were made to work so that our times when we don't work are made more enjoyable by the contrast.
Of course, I'm not the first person to realize this and won't be the last.
The following is from the novel Candide, ou l'Optimisme known in English as Candide written by Voltaire (François-Marie Arouet) and published in 1759:
“I know also,” said Candide, “that we must cultivate our garden.”
“You are right,” said Pangloss, “for when man was first placed in the Garden of Eden, he was put there ut operaretur eum, that he might cultivate it; which shows that man was not born to be idle.”
“Let us work,” said Martin, “without disputing; it is the only way to render life tolerable.”
The whole little society entered into this laudable design, according to their different abilities. Their little plot of land produced plentiful crops. Cunegonde...became an excellent pastry cook; Paquette worked at embroidery; the old woman looked after the linen. ...Friar Giroflée...made a good joiner, and became a very honest man.
Pangloss sometimes said to Candide: “There is a concatenation of events in this best of all possible worlds: for if you had not been kicked out of a magnificent castle for love of Miss Cunegonde: if you had not been put into the Inquisition: if you had not walked over America: if you had not stabbed the Baron: if you had not lost all your sheep from the fine country of El Dorado: you would not be here eating preserved citrons and pistachio-nuts.”
“All that is very well,” answered Candide, “but let us cultivate our garden.”
-- End --
So let us cultivate our garden, my friends, as best we can.
Sunday, May 24, 2020
From "A Meditation on (Barely) Walking"
Recently, I tried those compression walking shorts that supposedly help your muscles stay relaxed and energized. I felt and looked like a bratwurst sausage.
There was a physics problem of trying to place too much of me into too little of the shorts. I couldn't solve it and was only able to remove the garment with the aid of WD-40. At least the fire department didn't have to cut me out of them.
Again.
(Excerpted from the forthcoming book Floozy Goes Forth, copyright 2020. All rights reserved.)
There was a physics problem of trying to place too much of me into too little of the shorts. I couldn't solve it and was only able to remove the garment with the aid of WD-40. At least the fire department didn't have to cut me out of them.
Again.
(Excerpted from the forthcoming book Floozy Goes Forth, copyright 2020. All rights reserved.)
Saturday, May 23, 2020
Lies & More Lies
There's a certain logic behind some lies. By that, I mean a person who lies for advancement or profit or protection has an understandable motive. You may disapprove, but you can understand why the person lied. Perhaps even in certain situations be willing to lie yourself for whatever reason you deem sufficient.
But what about someone who just lies all the time? Lies as easily as talking. Lies upon lies. So many that you begin to wonder if the person really knows what the truth is. Pathological lying. So many lies that the person can't keep them straight, and neither can anyone else. And the motives are unfathomable by anyone, perhaps even by the person telling them.
In times past, people would say a "lying spirit" had taken the person. That the person had lost hold on reality. That they had gone mad. Such people would be put away quietly to be studied by doctors and professors.
These days, we elect them to Congress.
But what about someone who just lies all the time? Lies as easily as talking. Lies upon lies. So many that you begin to wonder if the person really knows what the truth is. Pathological lying. So many lies that the person can't keep them straight, and neither can anyone else. And the motives are unfathomable by anyone, perhaps even by the person telling them.
In times past, people would say a "lying spirit" had taken the person. That the person had lost hold on reality. That they had gone mad. Such people would be put away quietly to be studied by doctors and professors.
These days, we elect them to Congress.
Friday, May 22, 2020
Forest for the Trees
How are you this Friday? I've been busy the past several days finishing a monthly newsletter that's a month behind! The process is not necessarily hard, but it's long and somewhat complicated. Well, not really complicated, but...lots of steps to do in order. No step is particularly hard, but they have to be done in order, and they all have to be done. Maybe it is complicated.
Things often are when you look at a whole project rather than breaking it into steps. Looking at the forest can keep you from seeing the trees. And vice versa, of course.
Many people claim that seeing the forest is more important than seeing the trees, forgetting that the trees as a group are the forest. You can lose one tree, obviously, and still have a forest, but how many can you lose before the forest is no more? One tree is not a forest. Nor is two or three or even 10. How about 100? 300? 1,000? There's not a true definition of a forest. We simply know one when we see one.
That brings us back to the importance of a single tree. If you lose enough single trees, then you don't have a forest anymore. So every tree has to be important because, without it, the forest is diminished. Always beware of someone who is willing to sacrifice a tree or two for the sake of the forest. They're ignoring what a forest truly is.
And no, I'm not really talking about trees. I'm actually talking about government and how politicians sacrifice individuals--us--to benefit the greater public, even though each of us actually is a part of that "public."
Politicians talk about making the hard decisions, but have you ever noticed their hard decisions never impact them? They hold themselves apart. They're not part of the public. They're the overseers, the rulers--the sacrificers, never the sacrifices.
Make no mistake about this: If you're a Republican or Democrat or any other political party, you're supporting people who will claim--with pride--that they can make the hard decisions for us, that they know better than the individual, that sacrifice is necessary for the greater good.
They're protecting the forest, you see? The forest is more important than a tree, right? And it's only after a forest is clear cut that people realize something vital has been lost. Fortunately, at that point, our overseers will exhort the values of an empty land. We are so lucky.
Aren't we?
Things often are when you look at a whole project rather than breaking it into steps. Looking at the forest can keep you from seeing the trees. And vice versa, of course.
Many people claim that seeing the forest is more important than seeing the trees, forgetting that the trees as a group are the forest. You can lose one tree, obviously, and still have a forest, but how many can you lose before the forest is no more? One tree is not a forest. Nor is two or three or even 10. How about 100? 300? 1,000? There's not a true definition of a forest. We simply know one when we see one.
That brings us back to the importance of a single tree. If you lose enough single trees, then you don't have a forest anymore. So every tree has to be important because, without it, the forest is diminished. Always beware of someone who is willing to sacrifice a tree or two for the sake of the forest. They're ignoring what a forest truly is.
And no, I'm not really talking about trees. I'm actually talking about government and how politicians sacrifice individuals--us--to benefit the greater public, even though each of us actually is a part of that "public."
Politicians talk about making the hard decisions, but have you ever noticed their hard decisions never impact them? They hold themselves apart. They're not part of the public. They're the overseers, the rulers--the sacrificers, never the sacrifices.
Make no mistake about this: If you're a Republican or Democrat or any other political party, you're supporting people who will claim--with pride--that they can make the hard decisions for us, that they know better than the individual, that sacrifice is necessary for the greater good.
They're protecting the forest, you see? The forest is more important than a tree, right? And it's only after a forest is clear cut that people realize something vital has been lost. Fortunately, at that point, our overseers will exhort the values of an empty land. We are so lucky.
Aren't we?
Thursday, May 21, 2020
A Quickening of the Winds
I wrote a column today that I'm quite proud of. Not that I haven't written better ones with more laughs. No, it's because I wrote it when I didn't feel like I could. It's nearly a month overdue so today I planted myself in my chair and told me to write anything as long as I filled up that space. And I did. All the recent stress has taken the wind out of my sails, but today I felt a breeze.
Friday, November 01, 2019
YULE TIDINGS ON SALE NOW!
Yule Tidings, the latest anthology from the writing group Prosateurs, is on sale now. The holiday-themed anthology celebrates Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Year’s with works of fiction and nonfiction.“Besides making the perfect Christmas gift, Yule Tidings is great for planning your parties and get-togethers, too,” said Kathy Akins, Prosateurs vice president. “We have articles on easy party preparations and, of course, delicious recipes. And the stories, memoirs, essays, and poems will get you into the holiday spirit. It’s the perfect book to curl up with.”
Yule Tidings features works from these authors:
Kathy Akins has won several awards with her poetry, devotionals, and short fiction. Her short stories and poetry have been published in Prosateurs: Tales & Truth, Blackbirds Third Flight, Creations 2015, and Creations 2014. She is a member of Oklahoma Writers Federation, Inc., Society of Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators, and American Christian Fiction Writers. Visit her website at kathyakins.blogspot.com.
Debbie Anderson wrote the suspense novel Friend or Foe in 2018. Its sequel, Predators Among Us, will be published in early 2020. She writes short stories, memoirs, novels, children’s stories, and how-to books. She has been published in Prosateurs: Tales & Truth, Creations 2018, and Creations 2017.
Stephen B. Bagley's latest book is Floozy Comes Back, a collection of humorous essays. He co-wrote Undying, a book of dark poetry. His other books include: Murder by Dewey Decimal, Murder by the Acre, Tales from Bethlehem, Floozy and Other Stories, and Endless. His plays include: Murder at the Witch’s Cottage, Two Writers in the Hands of an Angry God, There’s a Body in the Closet, and Hogwild. His poetry, articles, short stories, and essays have appeared in Prosateurs: Tales & Truth, Writer’s Digest, Blackbirds First Flight, Blackbirds Second Flight, Blackbirds Third Flight, ByLine Magazine, Nautilus Magazine, Pontotoc County Chronicles, Tulsa World’s OKMagazine, Free Star, Dark Prairies & Deep Rivers, the Creations anthologies 2012-2015, and other publications. He is a member of Oklahoma Writers Federation, Inc. Visit his website at StephenBBagley.blogspot.com.
Wendy Blanton wrote Dawn Before the Dark, the first book in a fantasy trilogy, which was published by the Christian fantasy publisher Bear Publications in the fall of 2019. She also co-wrote three fantasy novels, The Dragon’s Lady, Rogue Pawn, and Sword and Scabbard, under the name Elizabeth Joy. Her short stories, articles, and recipes have appeared in Prosateurs: Tales & Truth, Blackbirds First Flight, Blackbirds Second Flight, and Blackbirds Third Flight. She is a member of Realm Makers and Oklahoma Writers Federation, Inc. Visit her website at wendyblanton.com.
Debra E. Chandler’s debut novel, Bone Sliver, was published in 2015, and the sequel, Nova Wave, in 2018. Weathered, a collection of her short works and poems, was also released in 2018. Her short stories, poems, photographs, and articles were also published in Prosateurs: Tales & Truth, Blackbirds Third Flight, The Green Country Guardian, The Sapulpa Herald, and Sapulpa News and Views. She is a member of Oklahoma Writers Federation, Inc. and Oklahoma Bloggers and Influencers. Visit her website at dechandlerwrites.com.
Barbara Shepherd is the 2019 Voice of the Fair Poet, the Poetry Society of Oklahoma’s 2019 Poet Laureate, and recipient of more than 350 writing awards in local, regional, national, and international contests. Her books include: The Potbelly Pig Promise, River Bend, Vittles and Vignettes, and Patchwork Skin. Her writing has also appeared in: State Cops Cooking in the Heartland - More Than We Can Say Grace Over, Candle Flames: PSO’s 70th Anniversary Anthology, Oklahoma Centennial Heritage Collection, Harp Strings, A Centennial Celebration of Oklahoma Stories, travelin’ Music, Elegant Rage, Poetry Is For Everyone, Imagination Turned Loose, Beads On a String–Peace, Joy, and Love, From the Heart of Galaxy, Ain't Gonna Be Treated This Way, and other publications. Visit her website at barbarashepherd.com.
Joanne Verbridge was born in Oakland, California, spending her early life experiences in Northern California. Family brought her to Oklahoma where she enjoys writing memoirs and crafting. She works to inspire her young nieces to take an interest in storytelling and writing. Her memoirs, short stories, and articles have been published in newspapers and Prosateurs: Tales & Truth, Creations 2015, Creations 2014, Creations 2013, and Creations 2012.
Yule Tidings is now available at Amazon, Barnes & Noble, BooksAMillion, Lulu, and other online retailers, and from the Prosateurs members while supplies last. For more information, including book signing dates and locations, visit Prosateurs.blogspot.com.
Wednesday, September 25, 2019
In the Valley of the Dead
In the Valley of the Dead
Make no songs that say our names;
we will not listen now.
Don’t compose poems to sing our virtues;
past small things, we do not care.
Do not praise us in speeches
written to glorify the cause;
eulogies are said by sly politicians.
If you truly would honor us,
walk quietly among white wildflowers.
Share memories of your families,
the children we cherished, the babies’
first steps, the turning of the world—
the stones hold us down, down, down,
and we cannot see beyond the loam.
Was our falling worth the cost?
Some say yes and others say no;
we do not care about the words,
the many falsehoods. the justifying.
Let us lie quietly here; our sorrows
vanquished as strife is not—wait,
what sound is that? A trumpet calls—
Copyright 2019 by Stephen B. Bagley. All rights reserved.
Make no songs that say our names;
we will not listen now.
Don’t compose poems to sing our virtues;
past small things, we do not care.
Do not praise us in speeches
written to glorify the cause;
eulogies are said by sly politicians.
If you truly would honor us,
walk quietly among white wildflowers.
Share memories of your families,
the children we cherished, the babies’
first steps, the turning of the world—
the stones hold us down, down, down,
and we cannot see beyond the loam.
Was our falling worth the cost?
Some say yes and others say no;
we do not care about the words,
the many falsehoods. the justifying.
Let us lie quietly here; our sorrows
vanquished as strife is not—wait,
what sound is that? A trumpet calls—
Copyright 2019 by Stephen B. Bagley. All rights reserved.
Wednesday, September 04, 2019
Review: "Dawn Before the Dark"
by Wendy Blanton
This exciting new entry in fantasy fiction is worth your coin. In the country of Slan, women ride dragons and men cast spells. It's been that way since the Curse of Ailin was invoked centuries before by an abused woman who suffers at the hands of a power-madden king.
But one day, Vask, an ancient dragon, discovers Briant, a young boy who isn't afraid of dragons and wants to ride one. Briant may be exactly what the prophesies say is needed because a terror is brewing on Slan's borders. How Briant and his friends chose to confront this new reality is both entertaining and thought provoking.
The only criticism I have of the book is that it ended too soon. I'm ready to read what happens next.
(Disclosure: I read an advance copy of the book. I received no compensation for the review and will receive none from the book sales.)
Available on Kindle HERE
Friday, August 30, 2019
Have Some Laughs!
Floozy and Other Stories
by Stephen B. Bagley
Got two nuns and a goat? Do you enjoy Sabbath Night Fever? Or own a flying robot monkey army serving our Alien Masters? If you do - and even if you don't - this is the book for you! Enjoy humorist Stephen B. Bagley's views of our world in more than 80 hilarious tales from his decidedly different life.
Floozy Comes Backby Stephen B. Bagley
Humorist Stephen B. Bagley returns with a new collection of wild and wacky tales from his decidedly different life. Enjoy these stories: Spice Boy, A Tale of Two Goldfish, Tanning My Hide, Kindle the Barbarian, The Fine Art of Sighing, Pumpkin Pinterest, Mr. Manners Speaks, Much Ado About Carbs, Congress & Other Monstrous Things, Work in Your Underwear, The Terrible Truth About Women, and many, many more!
Buy on Amazon!
Wednesday, August 14, 2019
Satisfaction
Dear Black Truck,
Yes, you were annoyed that I was driving just about a mile below the speed limit. You rode my bumper so close that I really thought your truck and my car might be conceiving a baby. And when you roared past me--on a double line no less--I'm sure you found much satisfaction. Short-lived satisfaction as it turned out because you discovered why I was being so careful in my observance of the speed limit: I was following a police car. But you know that better than me because the police officer flashed his lights and pulled you over. Meanwhile, I crept past and might have enjoyed a deeply felt and longer lasting satisfaction in knowing you were being ticketed.
Sincerely,
Me
Yes, you were annoyed that I was driving just about a mile below the speed limit. You rode my bumper so close that I really thought your truck and my car might be conceiving a baby. And when you roared past me--on a double line no less--I'm sure you found much satisfaction. Short-lived satisfaction as it turned out because you discovered why I was being so careful in my observance of the speed limit: I was following a police car. But you know that better than me because the police officer flashed his lights and pulled you over. Meanwhile, I crept past and might have enjoyed a deeply felt and longer lasting satisfaction in knowing you were being ticketed.
Sincerely,
Me
Tuesday, August 13, 2019
Opportunities Abound
Ordinary Truth: Forgiveness is hard. Very hard to do. But it's better than a stretch in the pen. I guess.
No, it is.
Forgive, but never forget. Is that right? My point is forgiveness is hard. But we should try to do that as often as we can.
Unfortunately, we're going to get a lot of opportunities down here.
No, it is.
Forgive, but never forget. Is that right? My point is forgiveness is hard. But we should try to do that as often as we can.
Unfortunately, we're going to get a lot of opportunities down here.
Monday, August 12, 2019
Poem: "There is a creature"
"There is a creature"
By Stephen B. Bagley
Within me, there is a creature
who seeks the broken shards
to spill opaque blood on razor edges.
to sanctify unnatural furies
to purify what cannot be
Within me, there is a storm
that twists and rages and burns
to shatter hollow cathedrals
to bring low the exalted
to raise up the castoff
Within me, there is a child
who is tormented and torments
to share its unknowable sorrow
to bring low those who judge
to weep for unreachable peace
Within me, there is a creature
that twists, rages, and burns
to share its unknowable sorrow
to purify what cannot be
to raise up the castoff
to weep for unreachable peace
There is a creature.
Copyright 2019 by Stephen B. Bagley.
Copyright 2019 by Stephen B. Bagley.
All rights reserved. Thank you for reading.
Saturday, August 10, 2019
Ocean view
You seem to have done okay while I was gone. Some of you still happy, some of you still sad, some of you still between, some of you sadly still freakishly paranoid, but most of us are still at sea, battling the waves, enjoying calm days under the sun, and being braced by the wind that fills our sails.
In other words, that's life, and I'm glad we're making the journey together. I'm going to try to post more often here. Hope some readers are still with me. I promise more jokes, more stories, more books, more life, God willing.
And sometimes we will just gaze at the far horizon together and drift, thinking of things to come.
Tuesday, February 12, 2019
Fitness Goal = Insanity
"Fitness Goal: Just Another Way to Say Insanity"
By Stephen B. Bagley
A friend of mine set a fitness goal to climb a mountain. Naturally, we immediately attempted to have her committed on grounds of general insanity, but a judge told us that climbing a mountain is not a sign of mental illness. We have to abide by his ruling, although it’s hard to trust a man in such an unflattering dress. A bit of color on his collar and sleeves would brighten up the whole courtroom and give it a much needed festive air, particularly during sentencing.
I’ve always had a love/hate/hate/LOATHE relationship with fitness goals, mostly because I never reach one. If I do set one, there’s a good deal on tacos, and that’s the end of that. But they’re good. I mean, the tacos are good, not the goals.
Okay, fine, fitness goals are good. But they’re hard to achieve, particularly if your trainer is so small-minded that he/she doesn’t accept Recliner Lounging as an exercise, even though it takes a lot of skill to balance a plate of food, dessert, a drink, a bucket of fried chicken and biscuits, napkins, and several remotes on your stomach as you watch the latest episode of My 600-Lb. Life. As you watch the show, you wonder how those poor people got that large as you eat a couple of biscuits slathered in brown gravy. It’s a mystery.
Probably giving up biscuits and fried chicken should be one of your fitness goals, but let’s not talk crazy, man. Instead, maybe you could get one of those fitness watches and gradually increase your steps until you’re walking over 100,000 steps a day! Then you look around and wonder where you are and why bears are circling you. Probably you should have taken up running, but instead you’re giving the wild animals lean meat, which is so much better than the fatty tourists they usually dine on.
I have a fitness watch. At first, it was fun to count how many steps I had and read the little messages of encouragement that showed on its tiny screen. “Go, Stephen! You’re doing great!” But after a few months, the messages took a mean tone: “So...that’s all you’re doing? Are you even trying? I’m ashamed. I’m the laughingstock of all the other watches, buddy! LAUGHINGSTOCK!” I find forgetting to charge its battery shuts it up.
You can choose to eat healthy, but it’s hard to choose a diet among all the thousands out there. It’s even harder because every diet says the other diets don’t work and might probably possibly perhaps KILL you, although this statement hasn’t been evaluated by the Food and Drug Administration and probably never will be if their lobbyists are effective.
Still, you must choose. Pick one of these: Mediterranean, DASH, Flexitarian (the favorite among Vulcans), MIND, Volumetrics (Defender of the Unibelly), TLC, Ornish, Fertility, Nordic, Flat Belly, Nutritarian (sworn enemies of the Flexitarians), Vegan, Glycemic Index (you don’t what to know the GI of Hostess Twinkies), Zone, Abs, Macrobiotic (not just biotics, but macrobiotics!), Optavia, Paleo, Raw Food, Supercharged Hormone (the favorite of all the super heroes), Keto, Spark, Weight Watchers, SlimFast, Mayo Clinic (which is not based on mayonnaise as I had excitedly thought), and so on. I found more than 100 different diets while exhaustively searching the Internet for a second or two. I’m sure there are more out there, but I can tell you now that none of them allow you to devour Hostess Twinkies(TM) by the box. Life is bitter.
Let’s say you’ve chosen your diet, and now you must choose your exercise routine. Fortunately, hundreds of routines are available. Thousands. Pick one. Or two. Several. Doesn’t matter. You will hate it soon after you start. A friend started a rigorous exercise plan and said he loved it from the beginning. I’ve never trusted him since then. A man who will lie about that will lie about other things, too.
Besides sweating like a horse and also smelling like one, maybe you want to spend a lot of money on machinery that’s dangerous and ugly. You can buy a fitness machine! There are many models to choose from. They will let you walk, run, gallop, row, flex, bend, perforate, shred, shriek, cross country ski, hike, bicycle, mountain bike, climb stairs, jump hurdles, float like a butterfly, sting like a bee, plank, kayak, vibrate, invert, box...and you can do all these things without leaving your home. Which means emergency services won’t have to waste precious time looking for you when the time comes. And it will.
I would have said “without leaving the privacy of your home,” but many new machines feature a “social aspect” where other people can chart your progress—or lack thereof—and even see you on their machines’ monitors. This is supposed to inspire friendly competition, much in the way the Romans inspired competition by tossing people in an arena and letting them run from hungry lions. This both revealed the fastest and the tastiest.
You might also need a bigger house. Some of the machines are large. If you can fit, say, a 1965 Dodge Dart in your bedroom, then you can safely have an exercise machine to hang clothes on.
The curious thing about all this running, hiking, biking, rowing, etc. is that you’re not actually going anywhere. After all that activity, you will still be in the same room. When you’re walking outside, you will end up somewhere—probably an ER—but somewhere besides where you started.
Another curious thing—well, I’m curious about it even if you’re not—is people are actually dressing up before they exercise in their OWN HOME. Women put on makeup, men put on pants, and then when they’re finished, they have to shower and get dressed again! I guess if you run around in sweat pants and t-shirts all day, you’re set. Otherwise, it seems a waste of laundry. A friend of mine has an expensive bike with video camera. She covered the camera with a towel and says she won’t uncover it until she looks as good as the people in the bike’s TV commercials. She says to check back with her in five years. It’s a good plan, particularly since all sorts of things could happen to the bike before then. They don’t last forever. They do break down. Accidentally sometimes.
My friend who is planning to climb the mountain says you’re not the same person at the beginning of an exercise regimen as you are at the end. You’re a fitter, better version with more confidence and discipline that will make your entire life better. She’s always saying crazy crap like that. I think the judge is plain wrong, and I will file an appeal as soon as I finish off this lovely box of Twinkies.
(Copyright 2019 by Stephen B. Bagley. All rights reserved. No copying or sharing without express written permission of the author and publisher. Thank you for reading.)
By Stephen B. Bagley
A friend of mine set a fitness goal to climb a mountain. Naturally, we immediately attempted to have her committed on grounds of general insanity, but a judge told us that climbing a mountain is not a sign of mental illness. We have to abide by his ruling, although it’s hard to trust a man in such an unflattering dress. A bit of color on his collar and sleeves would brighten up the whole courtroom and give it a much needed festive air, particularly during sentencing.
I’ve always had a love/hate/hate/LOATHE relationship with fitness goals, mostly because I never reach one. If I do set one, there’s a good deal on tacos, and that’s the end of that. But they’re good. I mean, the tacos are good, not the goals.
Okay, fine, fitness goals are good. But they’re hard to achieve, particularly if your trainer is so small-minded that he/she doesn’t accept Recliner Lounging as an exercise, even though it takes a lot of skill to balance a plate of food, dessert, a drink, a bucket of fried chicken and biscuits, napkins, and several remotes on your stomach as you watch the latest episode of My 600-Lb. Life. As you watch the show, you wonder how those poor people got that large as you eat a couple of biscuits slathered in brown gravy. It’s a mystery.
Probably giving up biscuits and fried chicken should be one of your fitness goals, but let’s not talk crazy, man. Instead, maybe you could get one of those fitness watches and gradually increase your steps until you’re walking over 100,000 steps a day! Then you look around and wonder where you are and why bears are circling you. Probably you should have taken up running, but instead you’re giving the wild animals lean meat, which is so much better than the fatty tourists they usually dine on.
I have a fitness watch. At first, it was fun to count how many steps I had and read the little messages of encouragement that showed on its tiny screen. “Go, Stephen! You’re doing great!” But after a few months, the messages took a mean tone: “So...that’s all you’re doing? Are you even trying? I’m ashamed. I’m the laughingstock of all the other watches, buddy! LAUGHINGSTOCK!” I find forgetting to charge its battery shuts it up.
You can choose to eat healthy, but it’s hard to choose a diet among all the thousands out there. It’s even harder because every diet says the other diets don’t work and might probably possibly perhaps KILL you, although this statement hasn’t been evaluated by the Food and Drug Administration and probably never will be if their lobbyists are effective.
Still, you must choose. Pick one of these: Mediterranean, DASH, Flexitarian (the favorite among Vulcans), MIND, Volumetrics (Defender of the Unibelly), TLC, Ornish, Fertility, Nordic, Flat Belly, Nutritarian (sworn enemies of the Flexitarians), Vegan, Glycemic Index (you don’t what to know the GI of Hostess Twinkies), Zone, Abs, Macrobiotic (not just biotics, but macrobiotics!), Optavia, Paleo, Raw Food, Supercharged Hormone (the favorite of all the super heroes), Keto, Spark, Weight Watchers, SlimFast, Mayo Clinic (which is not based on mayonnaise as I had excitedly thought), and so on. I found more than 100 different diets while exhaustively searching the Internet for a second or two. I’m sure there are more out there, but I can tell you now that none of them allow you to devour Hostess Twinkies(TM) by the box. Life is bitter.
Let’s say you’ve chosen your diet, and now you must choose your exercise routine. Fortunately, hundreds of routines are available. Thousands. Pick one. Or two. Several. Doesn’t matter. You will hate it soon after you start. A friend started a rigorous exercise plan and said he loved it from the beginning. I’ve never trusted him since then. A man who will lie about that will lie about other things, too.
Besides sweating like a horse and also smelling like one, maybe you want to spend a lot of money on machinery that’s dangerous and ugly. You can buy a fitness machine! There are many models to choose from. They will let you walk, run, gallop, row, flex, bend, perforate, shred, shriek, cross country ski, hike, bicycle, mountain bike, climb stairs, jump hurdles, float like a butterfly, sting like a bee, plank, kayak, vibrate, invert, box...and you can do all these things without leaving your home. Which means emergency services won’t have to waste precious time looking for you when the time comes. And it will.
I would have said “without leaving the privacy of your home,” but many new machines feature a “social aspect” where other people can chart your progress—or lack thereof—and even see you on their machines’ monitors. This is supposed to inspire friendly competition, much in the way the Romans inspired competition by tossing people in an arena and letting them run from hungry lions. This both revealed the fastest and the tastiest.
You might also need a bigger house. Some of the machines are large. If you can fit, say, a 1965 Dodge Dart in your bedroom, then you can safely have an exercise machine to hang clothes on.
The curious thing about all this running, hiking, biking, rowing, etc. is that you’re not actually going anywhere. After all that activity, you will still be in the same room. When you’re walking outside, you will end up somewhere—probably an ER—but somewhere besides where you started.
Another curious thing—well, I’m curious about it even if you’re not—is people are actually dressing up before they exercise in their OWN HOME. Women put on makeup, men put on pants, and then when they’re finished, they have to shower and get dressed again! I guess if you run around in sweat pants and t-shirts all day, you’re set. Otherwise, it seems a waste of laundry. A friend of mine has an expensive bike with video camera. She covered the camera with a towel and says she won’t uncover it until she looks as good as the people in the bike’s TV commercials. She says to check back with her in five years. It’s a good plan, particularly since all sorts of things could happen to the bike before then. They don’t last forever. They do break down. Accidentally sometimes.
My friend who is planning to climb the mountain says you’re not the same person at the beginning of an exercise regimen as you are at the end. You’re a fitter, better version with more confidence and discipline that will make your entire life better. She’s always saying crazy crap like that. I think the judge is plain wrong, and I will file an appeal as soon as I finish off this lovely box of Twinkies.
(Copyright 2019 by Stephen B. Bagley. All rights reserved. No copying or sharing without express written permission of the author and publisher. Thank you for reading.)
Monday, December 31, 2018
"Turn Does the Year"
"Turn Does the Year"
By Stephen B. Bagley
the old year turns
either onto a new path
or onto the same
with only minor changes
we raise a cup or not
hoping a toast brings luck
even as we realize
it might not be as wished
in this changing moment
between then and now
and what will come after
drink deep the bittersweet
promised nothing, we still
scheme and plan
and if the fates be kind
a plan or two will bloom
we make promises
we might not keep
even though we will try
and cry and laugh and run
dance with me
love with me
pray with me
kiss your sweet lips now
think of what we leave behind
walk toward what is before us
most importantly hold my hand
as the old year turns new
(Copyright 2018. All rights reserved.)
By Stephen B. Bagley
the old year turns
either onto a new path
or onto the same
with only minor changes
we raise a cup or not
hoping a toast brings luck
even as we realize
it might not be as wished
in this changing moment
between then and now
and what will come after
drink deep the bittersweet
promised nothing, we still
scheme and plan
and if the fates be kind
a plan or two will bloom
we make promises
we might not keep
even though we will try
and cry and laugh and run
dance with me
love with me
pray with me
kiss your sweet lips now
think of what we leave behind
walk toward what is before us
most importantly hold my hand
as the old year turns new
(Copyright 2018. All rights reserved.)
Thursday, December 27, 2018
Surviving Christmas Again
So...how ya doin'? You enjoyed/survived/tolerated/rejoiced in/bah humbugged/delighted in Christmas. And you're still here. Good for you. Be proud of you.
If you know anything about me, you know I love Christmas. Yet, like many of you, my Christmases carry loss and sorrow as we mourn those who aren't here with us. I miss my parents so much that it hurts. Not all the time, of course, but sometimes the pain takes my breath away, still so sharp and clear after all these years. And other precious family members and dear friends, all lost now...I remember them, too. Even so, I still rejoice in Christmas. Not because of the gifts or the food or the shopping or the TV specials on PBS, although they are all enjoyable--except the shopping, but that is the price we pay for wanting to give to those we care about.
No, I rejoice in Christmas not for any of those things, but for the hope. The idea that the birth of a small child would cause a ripple in history. A child who would grow up and go forth and preach a message of love and acceptance. He would suffer terribly and he would be killed for his words.
A huge story started then, a story that would change the world and set in motion great times and small things, terrible events and glorious actions. That's the story of Easter: tragedy and terror, loss and sorrow, murder and miracle, redemption and glory.
But on Christmas, we remember the beginning, the trembling fear and overwhelming joy every parent feels when they hold their newborn, the expectation of things to come, that moment when it seems the world pauses in expectation, the first lusty breath and then a baby's first cry rings out in a silent night....
I rejoice in Christmas because it is a reminder of those things. A reminder of hope and how things can change. It's a new beginning. That's what Christmas is for me. I hope it is that for you, too. Whatever you believe, that's what I pray for you.
If you know anything about me, you know I love Christmas. Yet, like many of you, my Christmases carry loss and sorrow as we mourn those who aren't here with us. I miss my parents so much that it hurts. Not all the time, of course, but sometimes the pain takes my breath away, still so sharp and clear after all these years. And other precious family members and dear friends, all lost now...I remember them, too. Even so, I still rejoice in Christmas. Not because of the gifts or the food or the shopping or the TV specials on PBS, although they are all enjoyable--except the shopping, but that is the price we pay for wanting to give to those we care about.
No, I rejoice in Christmas not for any of those things, but for the hope. The idea that the birth of a small child would cause a ripple in history. A child who would grow up and go forth and preach a message of love and acceptance. He would suffer terribly and he would be killed for his words.
A huge story started then, a story that would change the world and set in motion great times and small things, terrible events and glorious actions. That's the story of Easter: tragedy and terror, loss and sorrow, murder and miracle, redemption and glory.
But on Christmas, we remember the beginning, the trembling fear and overwhelming joy every parent feels when they hold their newborn, the expectation of things to come, that moment when it seems the world pauses in expectation, the first lusty breath and then a baby's first cry rings out in a silent night....
I rejoice in Christmas because it is a reminder of those things. A reminder of hope and how things can change. It's a new beginning. That's what Christmas is for me. I hope it is that for you, too. Whatever you believe, that's what I pray for you.
Wednesday, December 19, 2018
2018 Prosateurs Christmas Book Catalog!
🌟
Do
Do
you
need
any last
minute gifts?
The Prosateurs have
the books for you! From
cooking, children's books, humor,
mysteries, horror, inspirational, and
more, you can find the right book for all
the lucky people on your list--and for you!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)