My Blue Heaven

This Saturday, I go to my first airshow. I expect six or seven hours of neck-bending excitement and skin-reddening sunshine. The final act will be the above Blue Angels. Please note that they were off just a little bit in the picture. Tsk, tsk.

I will have camera and monster zoom lens in hand.

Be still, my beating heart.

What a Way to Go

I have no second thoughts about retiring. One reason is because of days like today. There was no air-conditioning at our institution of lower learning. The temp today was 96 with a heat index of 108.

You know, I could take the situation a lot better if there were just communication about the situation. But the folks in charge made nary an announcement about it. Not a "we're working on it" or "this could take a while". And most importantly, not even a "we're so sorry."

Teachers can take a lot. They can take the kids. They can tolerate the parents. They can even withstand the pay. But when you consistently tell them they're not important, they collapse under the strain and bail out of the profession.

This has been the modus operandi at my school for years. The best and the brightest have moved on or moved out. Left in their places are the naive or the incompetent.

Our society will pay the penalty for this nonsense. (Sidenote: put your kids in a Christian private school. Whatever the cost, it's worth it.) Oh, yeah...only 11 days to go!

Setting a Tone

I thought I had gone to my final assembly, but alas on Friday, there was the obligatory Cinco de Mayo program. Here are two notes from this DISD-sanctioned event:

It seems we can't celebrate somebody's heritage in our district without letting members of that ethnicity dance in a vulgar manner on stage. We had 12 dancers, six of each gender. There were several moments the males turned their backs to the audience and faced a female...and then began imitating pelvic thrusting. Naturally, the street-savvy kids in the audience went wild.

Then, our Hispanic assistant principal took the microphone and shouted the following: "We were here before the white man, we were here before the black man was brought here against his will, and we plan on staying here!"

There are two problems with this. First, there is questionable historical accuracy here. It all hinges on his definitions of "we" and "here". I won't go into this further. You can probably see what I mean.

But more importantly, why make such an inflammatory remark to middle schoolers in this time of huge racial tension in our country? We, I thought, were striving for racial harmony and this is like throwing gas on the fire.

I'm so glad I have only 13 days left as an employee of such an embarrassing employer.

Understanding Your Chances

I will bow to public pressure and, for the first time ever, explain how to interpret your rain chances. There is so much unnecessary confusion when the National Weather Service tells you you have "X" % chance of rain. I mean, it looks simple enough. You'd think that, say, with a 20% chance of rain, you'd have a 10% better chance than with just a 10% chance. But years of experience and study have taught me that numbers lie.

Let's break down the numbers and what to really expect. Remember now, this is groundbreaking stuff. I could have kept this kind of breakthrough material under wraps. But I'm first and foremost a public servant. Even though I could sell these secrets for many millions, I choose to stay humble and not mercenary.

10% chance: Rarely used and seen only in forecasts put out on the NWS's website. It indicates a total lack of confidence in rain chances and is used when a few cumulus clouds will interrupt a clear sky. Furthermore, I contend it shall not ever rain with a 10% chance.

20% chance: This is a cover-your-bases percent used by the NWS that unnecessarily gives hope to the masses. It should be discarded and never used. It mainly is used in August when the NWS knows that out of the 7500 cumulus clouds, two are going to produce rain. So they string along the public much like a 2 AM infomercial.

30% chance: I consider a 30% chance really half that. The NWS nerds use it when some over-estimated factor has grabbed their imagination...usually in the summer as they bow to public pressure to DO SOMETHING!

40% chance: This is a good percentage. It rains 62% of the time when there's a 40% chance. There is no explanation for this other than NWS incompetence.

50% chance: Not so good. Part of the problem is with the fact that "5" is an odd number. Odd numbers are not good. September 11, 2001 is really a combination of three odd numbers...9,11, and 2001. Crazy Chrissy Columbus "discovered" America in 1492, an even number. I was born on 10-12-48, three even numbers. I've made my point. My studies show that with a 50% chance, actual chances are really 31.3%, an odd number.

60% chance: Prepare for a good, soaking rain. My data says it'll rain 82.24% of the time.

70% chance: The public gets all excited with such a high number. They cancel picnics and outdoor weddings. They storm the hardware stores (so to speak) for rain gauges. Surprisingly, this is one guess that the NWS scores on. Personally, I think it's just God taking care of people less smart than I.

80% chance: Bingo! This is the one you pray for. It's an even number. And my research shows it's a sure thing. Not an 80% thing, a SURE thing. Need proof? I went through microfilm libraries around the world and discovered (amazingly) that there was an 80% chance of rain for these well-known events:
a. the Johnstown flood
b. Noah's flood (an unprecedented 40 straight days and nights of 80% chances)
c. Katrina

90% chance: This is a little creepy. It is rarely used and the great unwashed public (get it?) hardly knows what to make of it. They wonder, "If it's almost a certainty, what is it lacking?" Doubt clouds (get it?) their minds and gives way to unabashed hand-wringing (get it?). And with good reason. This odd number percentage has produced rain exactly 47.313% of the time since statistics have been kept. (Statistics have been kept since Joseph interpreted Pharaoh's dreams and Potiphar was given the first annual Troy Dungan award).

100% chance: Amazingly, this is the 2nd biggest fraud ever perpetrated on the American public. An Oak Ridge Boys tour is number one. This percentage is the kiss of death. It never rains when the NWS is suckered into this "sure thing". There are no sure things, except an 80% chance of rain, or Richard Sterban showing us his chest hair (singular).

Feelings

Today, I told my six classes that I was retiring at the end of the school year. I didn't know what to expect but generally they went "Awwwww" in a nice sort of way. I don't want any to-do made over this but I also felt like they deserved to know.

What I find myself doing is monitoring how I feel as the time grows nigh. Already, I'm finding myself walking away from situations in the halls of our hallowed institution - reminding myself that, at this point, a scuffle just isn't worth it. I'm paying attention to my joyous/melancholy meter. Thus far, no sadness has crept in...just happy expectation.

I guess in a couple of weeks, I'll be reporting in on how I feel after my last lecture, after my last exam, and when the last class walks out. I may break down and sob like a baby, not out of sadness, but out of respect for the Father, who has gotten me through so many tough times in 36 years. Of course, I may also yell, scream, holler, and laugh uncontrollably as another phase of my life begins.

A Different Saturday

The day began nicely enough. I was privileged to speak to a men's breakfast at the nearby Eastridge Church. Easy topic: "Secrets of Good Parenting". Praise the Lord that Carole and I have been blessed with super kids. I basically told them what we had done that might have been different from other parents. Hope it helps a few fathers in the difficult job of being a parent.

But I get home and Carole reports she doesn't feel good and soon thereafter, she's chunking her cookies. I hope it's a 24-hour (or less) bug. Of all the things in the world to hate, she hates nausea more than any.

So I've stayed indoors, trying to be a good nurse. Got to see the Mavericks beat Memphis for a 3rd time in the playoffs. Dirk picks up a loose ball with a couple of seconds left and drills a three to tie the game. Mavs had all the momentum at that point and won the game easily in OT.

Say What?

I recently went to the blog of a minister in New York City and mildly chastised him for his crude language. I figured I was speaking for the silent majority of Christians who detest profanity and pseudo-profanity ("sucks" and "pissed off").

To my utter amazement, I was the voice of one crying in the wilderness. 95% of those who subsequently responded railed against me and my Victorian ways. Don't you know, they said, that you are showing yourself to be "real" and "authentic" when you use such words? Don't you realize that you are showing yourself to be vulnerable and approachable to the lost when you express yourself that way?

Only by using these words, they said, can you truly express your deep inner feelings. Ordinary, proper language can't do that, they moaned.

Oh, please.

Maybe all those respondents live in New York.

Interesting Quote

I ran across this quote from Mother Teresa the other day. I'll paraphrase it since the book isn't in front of me at the moment.

"When the person who has suffered more than any other human ever...arrives in heaven and experiences God's glory, the time spent in pain on this earth will seem nothing more than a night spent at an inconvenient hotel."

Sounds like she was familiar with my favorite verse, 2 Cor. 4:17..."For this slight momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison."

Lasik Update

About three weeks ago, my 20/16 eyesight began to change. I noticed that when I looked at printed matter from a distance of 2 to 6 feet, the image was slightly double. Since then, the situation has continued to worsen, slowly and in small increments. Now I have some eye strain...which creates a slight headache that rarely goes away.

I had hoped that I would avoid the "enhancement" phase of lasik. That's where they take the first procedure and improve on it. Looks like I'm a prime candidate now.

I had made an appointment with Dr. Boothe for next Wednesday some time ago. I can't wait for them to explain why this has happened. It must be fairly routine, since there are regular checkups throughout the first year. Best case scenario: I get the checkup on Wednesday and they do the enhancement on Friday.

Stay tuned.

Just One Thing...

I had looked forward to this morning all week. It had been a taxing week at school with lots of lecture and lots of disturbances and I pushed myself through it by envisioning a photo shoot at the airport this morning. The only kicker was that for this to be successful, I'd need morning sun.

So, I packed my gear last night and set the alarm for 6:20 this morning. When I woke up, I checked the weather at Love Field. "Cloudy, 68 degrees." Groan. I decided to wait until 7 in hopes that the skies would improve. Sure enough, "Partly cloudy, 68 degrees." I wolfed down breakfast, threw on my jeans and t-shirt and headed out. All during the drive west, I was encouraged because the skies were improving the whole way. This was gonna work out.

Pulled into the parking lot at Love Field a little before 8. I unzipped my camera bad and discovered to my horror that there was no camera. Lots of lenses, no camera. I had taken it out last night to recharge the battery and had forgotten to repack it.

I've been kicking myself all day. Only bright spot is that I bet I never make that mistake again.

Geesh.

More DISD Madness

Try this one on for size: On Monday, I wrote a referral on a guy who has caused lots of problems on my bus, created havoc in my hall during passing periods, and made a mockery of the school's dress code by wearing his pants below his derriere.

Well, I hadn't heard anything about the disposition of his case, so today I asked about it. The reply? "We won't do anything about it until after the TAKS test is over next week."

Down is up, bad is good, real is fake, and DISD is a great district.

Things I'm tired of...

1. War.
2. Politics
3. Kids with attitudes
4. College-ruled paper
5. Green beans that aren't "Blue Lake"
6. Drivers who signal left and turn right
7. The clutter in my garage
8. Cloudy weather when I have a day at the airport to shoot planes
9. Wiping the frost off the bar code on the sherbet I buy just so it'll scan
10. Our cat Alex...he may not be long for this world
11. Profanity...from adults and kids alike
12. Nut grass
13. Pro sports...never thought I'd say that
14. Coca-cola's taste...never thought I'd say that either
15. The pain that my beloved mother-in-law is experiencing

Hypotheticals...for men only

Whose body would you rather have...Gabe Kapler or Josh Howard?

Would you rather have blinding speed or enormous jumping ability?

Would you rather be able to sing bass like Gary Evans or write like Max Lucado?

Would you rather be 6'4"/ 210 lbs. or 6'8"/240 lbs?

Would you rather be Mike Modano or Dirk?

Would you rather people call you witty/funny or smart/intellectual?

Would you rather be poor/handsome or rich/ugly?

Would you rather have an Olympic gold medal or a Super Bowl championship ring?

"Airside"

"Airside" is aviation lingo for being on the inside of the airport as opposed to peering at planes through a chain-link fence. Today, I once again was treated to two hours of being airside at DFW with a guy who works there.

The weather service had teased me all week by predicting sun or partly cloudy skies. It's critical to have sun if you want good photographs. By Thursday, the forecast had changed to cloudy. But this morning, I awoke to the good news that there would be "partly cloudy" skies this afternoon. Hooray!

Uh, I got five minutes of sunlight in two hours. Fortunately, this big FedEx came rumbling in from Memphis during that five minutes. BTW, this plane was sitting abandoned in the Mojave Desert until recently. Out-of-work aircraft are stored there to avoid the inevitable decay and rust that moisture brings. FedEx bought this one and painted it and is now giving it a new career. Maybe some employer will do that to me soon.

The Passage I Hate

There is a verse that's giving me fits right now. I so wish it weren't there. You see, I've got 41 days left in my career and things are getting really stupid and stressful at my school. From no pencil sharpeners to Mexican walkouts to no toilet paper, the working conditions are abysmal.

And I have the sick days to use that would extricate me from this morass. It's a very painless process to inform the dean that I'm gonna be out. It can be done clinically and easily.

But with every fiber of my being screaming for a break, God whispers in my ear through Paul's pen:

"Slaves, obey your earthly masters with respect and fear, and with sincerity of heart, just as you would obey Christ." Eph. 6:5

So, you see, I can't. I'm serving Christ, not just DISD.

Diversion

There I am at Bachmann Lake on Friday, awaiting the takeoff of a beautiful 747 (see blog entry below). But as I waited, God sent a little reminder that His creations are pretty good, too. I'm not a duckologist...to me this is just a duck. But as she (has to be a she...too beautiful) swam by, I couldn't resist taking my eyes from the sky and snapping off this shot.

One Man's Toy

The above airplane belongs to the 5th richest man in the world. He's a Saudi prince and this is one of his toys. It has been at Love Field recently because its interior was redone by a company there. Now a lot was done to the exterior as well, but it's the inside that staggers the imagination. Gold and marble to the max. Plasma TV's everywhere, including the restrooms. The bill? A mere $80 million. Eighty million just on the interior. That's more than I make in two years!

I invited a couple of Christian friends to join me on the inside of the plane today. We were unanimous in our assessment: this poor man has issues with his priorities.

Well anyway, the aircraft is off to Paris tonight, then on to Saudi Arabia after some sleep for the crew. I got this shot as it was tucking in the wheels.

March Madness

Point: I was informed Tuesday that it was time to take my annual physical that all bus drivers take. Usually, the way this is handled is that I go over to the bus headquarters and let the staff physician knock it out in 10 minutes. (If you have a pulse, you can drive.) But for reasons known only to Lucifer, this one was farmed out to a local clinic.

I arrived at 4:10. I walked out at 7:00 having not seen a doctor yet. Hungry, mad, exhausted, I was beyond exasperation.

But at least they will let me do it the old-fashioned way tomorrow...allowing me to get a day off from teaching (heh-heh).

Point: How terminally ignorant is the DISD? Get this. We have to buy our own pencil sharpeners. Reason? "They're not in the budget," said the dean of instruction.

#%@#+%&!!!!!

This....is a "winglet".

Have you noticed them before? It's actually called a "blended winglet". They are retrofitted on an aircraft's wingtips and give the appearance of a wing with a curl at the end. I got this picture of one yesterday at the maintenance area for Southwest Airlines. This one had some paint damage and was going to be tidied up before being re-attached. They run a cool $150,000 each.

Some folks think the airlines have put them on because they're cool looking. Nay, nay. This little design change increases speed, takeoff climb, turning ability, and even lowers emissions somehow. But the biggest plus is fuel savings. The 500 737's that are fitted with winglets in the world today save 50 million gallons of fuel each year. If every commercial aircraft had them, the savings would be $1.8 billion a year.

Maybe we can somehow attach 'em to SUV's.

Such Fun...

It's not what you know, it's who you know. Two Decembers ago, I'm sitting alone in a far corner of DFW airport...waiting for random jets to taxi by. A car pulls up behind me and out steps Stan Steadman. Stan is in charge of the 911 dispatchers in Lewisville and a confirmed aviation nut.

All we did for the next hour was talk planes. He was super nice and I got his email address. Later, I wrote him and thanked him for the time well spent. He wrote back, saying he noticed the scripture I used for my email signature. Turns out he is a fantastic Christian. Since then, we have shared prayer requests and gotten to know each other very well.

Fast forward to today. One of Stan's buddies is Jay Oros, a former detective for the Lewisville PD. Last November, Jay was hired by Southwest Airlines to head up security for their corporate offices. Jay had seen some of my photos and wanted to get me "airside" at Love Field. Today, the three of us met at noon and spent an hour and a half around the runways and taxiways there. And that's how I got the above shot.

I think my next blog entry will be about a small chunk of metal that some Southwest jets have that costs a mere $150,000. I know I've got you on the edge of your seat.

March Musings

1. The seasons are changing. There are trees and bushes that are blooming and their fragrance is a reminder that with nature, as with God, there is renewal.

2. Got a call today from an old teacher friend of mine who retired ten years ago. He and his wife spent their free time RV-ing around the country. Two years ago, he lost her to breast cancer. He admitted he's looking for another wife who shares the thrill of the road. Joy isn't joy unless you can share it with someone.

3. Friday, I get to go "airside" at Love Field. Airside means inside. A friend of a friend is gonna let me have access to the runways and hopefully I can get some cool landing shots. Unfortunately, rain and cold is causing me to cancel a similar experience scheduled for Saturday at DFW. But hey, we need the rain.

4. Carole is so blessed to have recovered from the flu so quickly. I certainly didn't want her to spend her week off in bed.

5. I used to love this time of year for the thrill of severe weather. Used to get all pumped up when a line of storms was approaching. Maybe I'm wiser now. I've seen what hail can do to my house and my pocketbook. I live in an area outside the earshot of tornado sirens. Severe weather is serious business.

5. 53 days left and counting in my career. 6500+ down, 53 to go. Should I be writing a book already on my experiences in a large, urban middle school? Would people believe me when I pull back the curtain on some of the ridiculous stuff I've seen and experienced? Like the time a girl told another girl that her mother's head was shaped like "a Russian bullfrog"?

Carole is Better!

There's this medicine called "Tamiflu". If you've got the flu and can start this drug before 24 hours has elapsed, it'll do wonders.

Carole was the typical flu patient...nauseated, fever-stricken, and achey to the max. We got her on Tamiflu Monday afternoon. She felt some better by Monday evening and quite a bit better by Tuesday. No fever since Monday. She still hurts behind her eyeballs, kind of typical for a flu patient, but is up and about today. She's not well enough to be out running errands, but she's incredibly better than she was Monday morning.

What a crazy name for a medicine...Tamiflu, pronounced "Tammy-flu". Would they name a drug "Ellenmeasles"?

Ugh, the Flu

My beautiful wife is the healthiest person I know. She eats right, knows the latest findings on nutrition and medicine, and gets a flu shot every year.

Uh, she's got the flu. Maybe airline travel is to blame. Airplanes are notorious for the air they recirculate through the cabin. We took a short trip to San Antonio Saturday morning, spending less than hour in the cabin. And then back again yesterday evening. By bedtime last night, Carole was sick.

By the middle of the night, she had 101.5 fever. We were blessed to get her in to see a great internist today and she will be taking something called Tamiflu, a drug that is supposed to cut in half the days spent in the grips of influenza.

Poor Carole. She finally gets a free week and this happens. I promise to give her the best care I can. It may not be based on knowledge of medicine, but it'll be borne of great love...and that is the best I can provide at the moment.

Post-script: If you are a sports fan, the above plane is the team plane of the Houston Rockets. Brett and I observed it arriving in San Antonio on Saturday.

Miracle Workers

I rarely recommend a television show since I rarely get involved in a series. I tend to watch historical and scientific documentaries.

But Monday night, ABC showed a new program called "Miracle Workers". The show's premise is to take hopeless medical cases and turn them over to doctors who use cutting-edge techniques. The first show featured a Houston lady who pretty much had no disks in a portion of her spine. The bone-on-bone that was left pressed on nerves, causing her immense pain.

Also featured was a guy who lost his sight at age 12. He had been given penicillin even though he was fiercely allergic to the drug. The ensuing complications seared his corneas. He was married with three kids, but had never seen his family members.

To make a long story short, both got the desired results. The lady is now pain free. The guy can now see.

I can't wait to see the next show. This is much better than the usual garbage the networks feed us.

How Much Does God Control?

Lately, I've heard Oprah mention that "there are no coincidences" and "there's no such thing as luck". I think to a Christian, these statements do have some validity.

When something wonderfully fortunate happens in my life, I'm hesitant to attribute it to blind luck. When something terribly unfortunate happens, and I'm the only one suffering, I wonder if it falls in the category of God's discipline.

Now, is God involved to the extent that He's the reason my pencil lead breaks? I think not. To a degree, things in our lives are simply the natural course of affairs.

But I'm convinced God is involved more than we think, particularly if we have asked Him to be. I have no reservations praying about seemingly ultra-mundane things...such as my 4th period class coming in ready to work or good weather for a trip. To me, that acknowledges God's power and His care and His love. And when 4th period DOES come in ready to work, I don't view it as happenstance and I really DO thank God for it.

So, score one for Oprah.

Excellence

I don't really have a blog. I just wanted you to click on the above photo. It's about as good as airline photography gets.

One Final Assembly

Today I endured my final Black History Month program. I've never been quite comfortable with the idea of devoting a month to celebrate one race over the others...seems counter-productive to the idea that we are all Americans equally, with none inherently superior.

With regard to the programs, I've seen it all. Once we had John Wiley Price as our speaker, and he railed against Anglos throughout...and this was after he did not stand for the Pledge of Allegiance.

In the '90's, there was never any "history" to our programs. Just vulgarly gyrating dancers exhibiting what I assume was their culture.

Today we had DISD board trustee Ron Price enlighten us. Ole Ron is a character. He is a convicted wife-beater, but is nonetheless allowed to sit on the school board. He is well-known for being, shall we say, disingenuous. Knowing beforehand that he loved to stretch the truth, particularly about himself, I listened keenly. Here are the gems:

"I am the chairman of a $2 billion company." (Name of the company, sir?)

"The Alamo was fought because of slavery." (Just check any Texas history book)

"Stewardesses (sic) make $100,000 a year."

Uh, maybe our assemblies should be Price-less.

Three's

3 Favorite Holidays
1. Columbus Day
2. Thanksgiving
3. Memorial Day (summer is here!)

3 Favorite Stooges
1. Curly
2. Moe
3. Larry

3 Favorite Cartoon Characters
1. Foghorn Leghorn
2. Yosemite Sam
3. Tweetie

3 Surprising Favorite Places
1. Hawn Fwy. Service Road at Hillburn (this is where I sit in my bus every morning and prepare mentally and spiritually for what lies ahead)
2. On my lawn tractor in the summer. I used to wear radio headphones until I realized that I was zapping my hearing by cranking up the volume so high. Now, I use it as prayer time...sometimes 2 hours of prayer time.
3. Seat 1 and Seat A on my bus. Sometimes after my elementary school bus run in the afternoon, I get back to Hood in time to stretch my body across the first two seats. I close my eyes and relax for the first time since 7:30 AM. Most days it's only for 10 minutes, but it is rich, sweet time.

3 Great Voices
1. Luciano Pavarotti. People hate the guy for his vanity, but few can quibble that voice.
2. Ann Murray. Something about rich alto voices that make me turn into a lover-boy. And I'm 57.
3. Dave Edmonds. Sings bass in our praise team at Highland Oaks. Such an effortless effort producing smooth, rich low notes. I want his voice in heaven.

3 Saints
1. My mother-in-law.
2. Anne Thomas. Was one of my Sunday School teachers growing up. An humble servant of the Lord. They named a street for her at Christian Care Center.
3. Carl Ketcherside. The greatest example of intellectual brilliance, humble character, and courageous attitude I ever witnessed.

T-minus 63 and counting...

I think I've got the days counted right. Pretty silly thing to do when you think about it. Happiness isn't predicated on attaining earthly milestones. But I'm starting to sense the sweet relief I'll feel when I'm done with the madness known as public education.

Today, I have one of the finer cases of laryngitis in recorded history. I can make a sound or two, but they in no way sound like speech tones. To top it off, I'm administering the TAKS writing test to my 1st period class. So far, they've been very understanding.

I'll take tomorrow off to see if there can be some improvement. A teacher without a voice is like Elvis without a chocolate cake.

Uh, 62.5 days now.

A challenge to the men of my family

I just watched Dirk Nowitzki win the 3-point shooting contest for this year. With that still fresh on my mind, I hereby suggest a similar competition with the men of my family. Except for Ralph. Not to suggest he's a woman. But you know what I mean. Ralph is excellent in other fields besides athletics.

I hate to brag, but not really. I once scored 63 points during a game in the fog one evening on Ambler Blvd, Abilene, TX. I saw all the shots go in; some of my teammates and opponents missed seeing some of them because of the meteorological conditions. It was their loss.

I have never had trouble scoring or beating my sons or my brother in basketball. Charles, not John, of course.

Now I am limited by a left leg crippled by a combination of nerve damage and a land mine I stepped on in Vietnam. I wear a leg brace with more titanium than the Eiffel Tower. But I can still bring it.

I am very interested to see if (1) Brett can still shoot given his advanced age and belly, (2) Blake can do something besides dunking over shorter opponents, and (3) if new son-in-law Michael (Detention) Hall can stand up to Perkins mystique.

Blake, it's up to you to arrange the shootout. You have the keys to DC's facilities. I'll wait a year if I have to. If I'm still alive.

My Wonderful Family

Time for payback since my family has been so nice to me in their blogs.

Carole: My bride and roommate for nearly 34 years. She is so beautiful. I don't know how she does it, but she looks very much like she did in 1972. I catch myself looking at her when she's not aware of it...and I thank God that I could be so blessed.

She is also enormously intelligent. This is both good and bad. It's good when I need her input. It's bad when her smartness makes me look stupid.

She is the finest mother our kids could want. She can raise a baby better than any woman alive.

And I get to spend eternity with her.

Brett: Ah, the firstborn. Were it not for the way blogs let folks open up more than usual, I might have a different take on this guy. But through his blog, I have discovered incredible sensitivity toward his family and toward his fellow man. The way Brett is so single-minded about serving God really warms my heart and brings joy that a lot of parents never experience.

I love how he dispenses financial wisdom that normally comes from someone much older, and how that wisdom is anchored around giving to God.

He is probably the wittiest person on earth, and seems to effortlessly have something funny to add to any remark. What a gift!

He married well and has blessed us with two wonderful grandsons.

Thanks, Brett...for all you've done and will do to make us proud.

Blake: Son #2 has his father's good looks, mixed with incredible caring and love for those around him. My mistake with Blake was to always underestimate him throughout his life. He knows how to overcome adversity and triumph over tough times.

I can't really pinpoint why I've sold him short. Was it because that always happens with the 2nd son? Was it because it seemed things came easier for Brett? Was it all those broken bones in junior high school? Don't know, but he has proved me wrong so many times.

He and I share so many values in life. We both approach discipline the same. We agree on how to budget. Because we both teach, our outlooks on education are the same. If ever I'm locked in an elevator for four hours, give me Blake as a fellow prisoner and the time will fly by pleasantly.

He also married well, and has blessed us with our beautiful granddaughter.

Thank you, Blake...for making me proud every single day.

Brooke: This kid has never experienced a single day in life when she wasn't beautiful...much like her mommy. She is a fierce Christian warrior and would have made a great apostle.

None of our kids went through such a transformation as Brooke. She went from being an extremely shy, quiet child to an effervescent, talkative extrovert within the course of about four years. Still don't know who or what flipped her switch.

I don't know anyone who is as fiercely Christian as Brooke. She gives Satan fits. She has every reason to live off her good looks and be a lazy, conceited snob. Instead, she is full of compassion, love, and energy for good works.

She didn't marry until the perfect guy came along...and Michael is indeed our 3rd son. I can't wait to hold their kids in my arms.

Thank you, Brooke...for showing the rest of us how to live life in a godly manner.

He Shoots, He Scores!

The main reason I got up at 5:40 on this Saturday morning to stand in the 20 degree wind chill at Love Field was to try and photograph one of Southwest Airlines' special scheme planes.

Success!

Faith or Works?

Our salvation is dependent on Christ's blood, for sure. But what is our role in the salvation process?

According to Paul, we are saved by grace through faith (Eph. 2:8). According to James, faith without deeds is dead. (James 2:26) What's a Christian to do?''

What I'm about to offer is easy to type, difficult to live out. For indeed, from our infancy we are drilled that reward comes from work. Those who don't work deserve no reward. To get something undeserved makes us uncomfortable.

But here's the deal.

Works are not a condition of salvation. They are a consequence of salvation. Any true believer (emphasis on "true") cannot keep from being a servant. An inert Christian is not one. Much as Peter and John in Acts 3 said they couldn't help but speak about what they had seen and heard, if we're truly saved, our servanthood will be spontaneous and joyful.

A State of Readiness

I'm convinced we are in the "last days". This morning, I watched Dr. Jack Graham of Prestonwood Baptist on TV, and he said he thinks all the prophetic criteria of the last days have been met. I'm not so sure, but he's a lot smarter than I.

Most scholars who study this say that one sure sign will be nations ganging up on Israel. This is surely happening now, witness Iran.

What does this mean for a Christian? Excitement and urgency. Our reunion with our Savior is nigh! The everlasting defeat of Satan and sin is imminent! The time we have left to save the souls of others is rapidly filling up the bottom of the hourglass.

Each day I awake now, I sense this could be THE day. Hopefully, this means more commitment, less frivolous talk, more prayer and Bible reading. More of saying those things that need to be said to loved ones, less concern about material possessions.

Since singing ruins my voice for a few days, during worship I tend to just close my eyes while hymns are sung...and soak up the lyrics. This morning, the singing was so good at Highland Oaks that I let myself imagine the "choral anthems" ringing in my ears as all saved believers praise their King.

Bring it on.

Lasik Update

It's been a month and a half since I let Dr. Boothe do a burn on my eyes. This week I returned for another post-op checkup and my eyes tested out at 20/16. They may be better than that. With my distance eye, I could read the lowest line on the eye chart. With my close-up eye, I read the smallest print on the card they handed me.

I guess they'd have to give me more stringent eyecharts in order to see if I'm indeed better than 20/16.

I can't tell you how pleased I am with the results. All of the things that were nuisances during the first couple of weeks are gone. I have the ability to switch from looking at fine print to looking at a faraway object with no lag time. I wake up in the morning with perfect vision and no glasses or contacts to mess with.

I want Carole to experience this freedom. Her vision problems are more complicated than mine, but I'm confident they can handle it.

Smart Kids!

Every Friday before the Super Bowl, I have my students guess the final score. They really get into it. But some seem, uh, somehow athletically challenged. I guess they've been living under a rock.

Here are some of the guesses through 5 periods today:

Seattle 1
Pittsburgh 0

Pittsburgh 16
(that was all that was listed)

Pittsburgh 206
Seattle 150

Seattle 3
Pittsburgh 1

And then...

Pittsburgh 18%

Uh, it's been a long year.

Echo

Yesterday as I was lecturing for the umpteenth time in my teaching career, something happened that I assume happens to all teachers or ministers every so often. I caught myself listening to myself.

It is very uncomfortable, comparable to hearing oneself on tape. You pull back and say, "I sound like that?" It made me wonder if all my students were hearing me just as I sounded to myself. That made me feel sorry for them.

Much better to teach without this personal feedback.

Duck!

Actually, the title is not about the picture.

It's about today in my classroom. At wonderful John B. Hood Middle School, we have hall issues...namely, too many hallwalkers, particularly during our 3 lunch periods. It's easier for them to cut class or lunch then since school personnel are assigned to handle the enormous security logistics at feeding time in the big school and aren't available to check the halls.

Last week, it seemed that each day, someone would bang on my door while I was in the midst of my (ahem) quality instruction. Or they'd kick my door. Or they'd scream like a banshee before vanishing down the nearby stairs. My 4th period Einsteins think this is real funny.

Today, someone tossed a half-filled soda can through the transom above the side wall in my classroom. It barely missed one of my kids before splattering to the floor. Another few inches and we'd be on the Channel 8 News tonight.

I really don't think the average person on the street has any idea how bad public schools in Dallas are.

To-Do List

I really, really try to live in an anticipatory frame of mind concerning Jesus' return. I want to go home, NOW.

That being said, I have a mental list of things I want to do before I croak. And here they are:

1. I want to have an aquarium with exotic, equatorial fish. The almost infinite variety of color and shape fascinates me no end.

2. I want to see a Shuttle launch in person. I actually have an idea as to how to pull this off. Stay tuned.

3. I want to ride the Concorde. Uh, this could be a challenge since those beautiful planes have been permanently grounded. There is some talk in Britain about reviving the birds and paying for it by charging even more than British Airways was in the past. So this item has two strikes against it.

4. I want to spend a late July without the impending gloom of a school year approaching. This one is close.

5. I want to see Richard Sturban die. Just kidding, Blake.

6. I want to hear the Mormon Tabernacle Choir in person again. Carole and I have experienced this twice and the power of those voices digs deep into the soul. Too bad those folks are clueless religiously.

7. I would like to revisit Fort Jackson, S.C., the site on my basic training 36 years ago. I had so many unsettled issues when I was there...where would I work as a teacher, who would I marry, would I survive the lonliness that enveloped me. Seeing some of the sights again would reaffirm that God was and is in control.

Maybe next, I move to the next realm and tell you the people I'm gonna look up in heaven.

Survey Says....

Of necessity, I had to kill some time with my classes yesterday, so I passed out a survey I'd created. Some interesting results:

"What time do you get up on a school day?" (Our first bell is at 8:20.) Earliest time given: 5 AM. Latest time given: 8:15 AM.

"What time do you get up on a Saturday when you're allowed to sleep late?" Earliest answer given: 6 AM. Latest time given: 1:30 PM.

"Do you go to church?" Most answered in the affirmative. BTW, all surveys were anonymous.

"If you could spend 15 minutes with anyone in history, alive or dead, who would it be?" Got a couple of Harriet Tubmans, a couple of Abe Lincolns, a few "grandpas", several MLK's, and one George Bush.

"What scares you more than anything?" "My brother and sister." "Clowns." "My dad." "Getting shot." "A naked body." "Darkness." "God." "My brother's face at night."

I Used to be a Runner

I used to run...

Oh, it's been many years since I went running. Mercy, do I miss it. A bad hip followed by several surgeries on my back and left knee have made this a distant memory. Or is it so distant?

I can conjure up so many pleasurable recollections from my running years. Very seldom did it fall into the category of "work". Most days, it was an act of pure rejuvenation. Something about blood flow, sweating, and exertion that come out of the blender as pure joy.

It's been proven that at a certain point in a long run, the brain begins to kick out chemicals (endorphins?) that produce a natural high. I could just about count on this happening about the 15 mile mark. It was as though my feet weren't touching concrete while mentally, all was right in the world. Oh, I miss that feeling.

Many, many of my miles came while my kids were very young. Carole was left to deal with them while I was out getting high. Not fair, was it? She had to deal with increased stress while I was jettisoning my own.

There was stupidity involved this preoccupation with fitness. I would get up at 4:15 AM, drive to White Rock Lake, and "run the lake", a distance of 9.3 miles. Then I'd return home and prepare for a day's work. At times I would train for a marathon and try to get in 50 miles a week. That's a ridiculous time investment at a point in my life where those hours would have been better spent being a husband and a father.

So maybe my body deterioration was God's way of telling me to slow down. I accept it. I have no choice. But do I ever miss those feelings of transcendent joy generated by a wildly pumping heart.

Trusting, Not Trying

Here's some great stuff from Edward Fudge:

'TRUSTING' NOT 'TRYING'by Edward Fudge
"Christ is the end of the law for righteousness," writes Paul, "to everyone who believes" (Rom. 10:4). The word translated "end" here is telos, and it means "goal" rather than "termination." Many Jews in Paul's day tried to keep God's laws so well and so thoroughly that God would examine their record of obedience and pronounce them "righteous" (Rom. 9:31-32; 10:2-3). Their goal to be found right with God was commendable but they were ignorant of the way to attain it.
Their approach would never work, according to Paul, because no human besides Jesus ever obeys God's laws perfectly. The problem with the "trying" approach is not in the Law but in the people trying to keep it (Rom. 8:3). Meanwhile, says Paul, God was pronouncing believing Gentiles "righteous" -- acquitted of guilt in his sight -- who were not even trying to obtain such a result by their own performance (Rom. 9:30).
Moses described righteousness-by-law, says the Apostle, as he quotes from Deuteronomy. No one has to climb up to heaven and bring down God's laws, said Moses, and no one has to go to the underworld to find the divine rules to keep them. No, the great Lawgiver explained, God's commands are right here in front of you, ready for you to hear and do and keep (Rom. 10:5; Deut. 30:11-14).
Indeed, that is the what it takes to obtain God's favor by the approach of personal obedience. One must keep God's laws. Not merely memorize them or admire them, or explain them. Keep them -- all of them, all the way, all the time (Rom. 10:5). And this is what the best of the Jews were desperately trying to do (Rom. 10:1-3). Sadly, it is what many weary Christians are trying to do today as well. Their approach would never work, according to Paul, because no human besides Jesus ever obeys God's laws perfectly. The problem with the "trying" approach is not in the Law but in the people trying to keep it (Rom. 8:3). Meanwhile, says Paul, God was pronouncing believing Gentiles "righteous" -- acquitted of guilt in his sight -- who were not even trying to obtain such a result by their own performance (Rom. 9:30).
* * *
Many who consider themselves zealous Christians today are wearing themselves out trying to obey God's commandments in hopes they will obtain his favor. Yet their zeal is misguided (Rom. 10:2), for they seek the divine acquital, "not by faith but as though it were by works" (Rom. 9:32).
The way to God's approval is altogether different, Paul affirms. That way is to trust God. To illustrate this, Paul borrows and adapts the very language from Moses which he had just used to explain "righteousness-by-trying." We do not need to go up to heaven to bring down a Savior, Paul says, for the Savior has already come (Rom. 10:6). We do not need to descend to the underworld to rescue this Savior, for God already has raised him from among the Dead (Rom. 10:7). Again it can be said, "The word is near you." This time it is not a word of law for us to keep, however, but a word or message of faith -- of trust -- in One who has kept all God's commandments perfectly and who has offered that obedient life to God in our stead (Rom. 10:8).
The obedience which sets us right in God's sight has already been accomplished on the earth -- by Jesus Christ our Savior and substitute! We cannot complete it, improve on it or make it better than it already is. We can only trust it, rely on it and respond to it. We cannot contribute to our salvation or right standing before God. We can only agree with God ("confess") about Jesus Christ and depend ("believe") on Jesus' work to obtain our acquital (Rom. 10:9-10). And we can confidently expect just that result, for "whoever believes in Him will not be disappointed" (Isa. 28:16, quoted at Rom. 10:11).
As the old spiritual song put it, "Believe, obey -- the work is done!" Jesus did it all, 2,000 years ago. This is the truth for Jews and it is the truth for all the nations (Rom. 10:12), for "whoever" calls upon the name of the Lord will be saved" (Joel 2:32, quoted at Rom. 10:13). The gospel message rings clearly through the centuries. It's not by trying but by trusting. And none who trusts in God's salvation will ever be left hanging in the breeze.

Smelling the Fumes

I have a friend who works for and at DFW Airport. He and I have gradually let our friendship develop to where he trusts me a little more each time I'm invited for a "ride-along" with him.

Monday, I was off for MLK and he took me along as he did his job...which is basically "runway control" at DFW. And on Monday, he edged me even closer to the runways than ever before. That's how I was able to get the above shot.

Man, I hope nothing ever happens to him.

Growing Pains

I heard an interesting debate yesterday on the radio. The two sides were debating whether a baby felt pain during delivery. I can't speak for you but I remember it hurting. Toughest 10 minutes of my life.

Transition often is painful. Since I will not be teaching next fall (unless God has a surprise job for me), I will have more expendable time. No more lesson planning or weekends spent grading papers. No more total exhaustion from lecturing six straight classes without a break.

The stupidest thing for me to do would be to plan on sitting around more. I confess that I'm being pulled in a surreptitious way by God. He's already telling me that there's going to be spiritual activity and serving involved.

Does He want me doing something I'm very uncomfortable doing, like visiting lonely senior citizens at the Christian Care Center? Or will I be interviewing clients for my church's benevolent outreach? Or something I haven't even considered?

All I know is there will accountability for my time, just like now.

Time Flies

This watch is a "Breitling". It's famous for being the watch of choice for pilots. Looks great, eh?

When worn, it fairly shouts, "I am pilot-man. I fly large aircraft at high speeds. I am special. Able to handle any emergency in the air or on the ground. I am pilot-man."

You can own one for a mere $5000.

And people will think you spend your days at 40,000 feet.

What it does is tell time.

Isn't it amazing the games people play?

How Dry I Am

I took the above picture at DFW last Saturday. It's a bit of a rare shot because you can only get the dust flying like this if (1) it's a 747, whose outside engines extend outside the runway, and (2) if it's dry.

Uh, it's dry. Amazingly, we got 5 minutes of heavy rain here in Rockwall tonight with the passage of a cold front. It was so great hearing thunder again and the sound of big drops hitting the windows. I had almost forgotten what it was like.

Transition

I feel funny.

I have never particularly enjoyed my profession; oh, I enjoy those magic moments of connectivity with students when you know ," They got it!", but with all the negatives that have come with territory of teaching in a public school, the thrill is gone. It doesn't keep me from giving my best effort, but it saps my energy.

Now that I'm into my final 18 weeks of 36 years of doing this, I'm trying to figure out how I "should" feel, rather than letting my feelings flow naturally. It's way too early to let euphoria seep into my perspective. But every day, it seems there are things I'm doing for the final time. Today, I told the kids about the alleged similarities between the assassinations of Lincoln and Kennedy. It's a little 10-minute segment that I've done well over a hundred times, and today at 2:20 PM, I finished the story for the last time. And I knew it.

And for the final time, I saw the wonderment in their eyes as they heard that Oswald shot Kennedy from a warehouse and was captured in a theater while Boothe shot Lincoln in a theater and was captured in a warehouse. And that both Presidents died on a Friday before a major holiday. And that both died in a building with the initials "P.H.". Stuff like that.

"Whoa, can you get us the website where you got information"?, they ask.

That's the part I'll miss.

Favorite Aromas

Okay, not your normal blog entry.

Favorite odors:

1. New tires. Only the male species can understand this.

2. Jet-A. This is the fuel used by aircraft. It has a definite aroma and the other guys who hang out at airports like I do agree that this is one beautiful smell.

3. The smell of tennis balls in a newly-opened can.

4. Bread being baked. When I was a kid vacationing in Minnesota with my family, we visited church members in Pine City, MN. At one home, the lady was baking bread...big loaves of bread. I can still smell it.

5. Freshly mimeographed sheets. Remember them? Long before copy machines, there were mimeograph machines. The copies came out wet with chemicals and smelled great!

6. Baby Magic. That pink lotion you put on a baby as the final touch after a bath. If I ever drown, I want it to be in a vat of Baby Magic. Or chocolate.

7. New car smell. Has anyone yet nailed down exactly what its origin is? While this aroma is pleasant to the nostrils, it generally means you owe your life to a bank.

Okay. Your turn.

Reminders That I Have It Good

There's a tendency when hammering out these blog entries to focus on how bad I have it. Poor me, teacher in an urban middle school, drives a bus, blah....blah. But the reality is that I'm rich beyond measure, in wealth (compared to most people in the world), in family, and in my job (of all things!).

All this has been brought home by the tragedy in W. Virginia. People away from the coal mines don't really know how miners and miners' families suffer. Imagine ekeing out a living by carving coal from the ground...hundreds and hundreds of feet away from sunlight, birds chirping, and clean air. Imagine living with knowledge that in a good year, more than 20 people will die doing what you do. Your house probably doesn't resemble a house as much as it does a shack...in a dismal town with dismal skies.

Imagine a life expectancy far shorter than most folks.

No wonder that most coal miners want their sons to do anything in life...except what they do.

Nope, I've got it good.

Back to Work

Wow. As I type this, my 17 or so days of freedom are drawing to a close. What a blast. Got the Lasik done (perfection, btw). Got in 3 photography safaris at the airport. Got to sleep late. There is nuthin' like waking up at 4:15 AM, realizing that the alarm won't be going off today, and snuggling again with the peaceful knowledge that this is a free day.

Carole worked super hard...big Christmas dinner and big New Year's Party. She was on her feet cooking, decorating, and cleaning for hours and hours. She's incredible.