chick perspective

It's always refreshing to get the female side of things.

Read Agent Wife's current report on Obi-Wan.

Daze of Our Lives (revisited)

Since Obi-Wan’s release from the hospital last week, he been in the worse shape I’ve ever seen him in.

His legs are weak. And his feet are in terrible pain due to a mix of his diabetic status and age.

Add it all up and Obi-Wan cannot walk anymore. Not even with a walker or cane.

He cannot go into his kitchen and make his own meals anymore. Everything he needs must be brought to him in the living room (meals, porta-potty, etc).

To my surprise Nurse Gollum retired over the Christmas break. And she hasn’t been around much since. And now there’s a new nurse, Nurse Esther. She’s trying to figure me out. I’m trying to figure me out too.

Meanwhile, every person in Obi-Wan’s sphere of friends and family is trying to get him into a nursing home. And sometimes I wonder if they’re right.

He doesn’t want to go into a care home. And I wouldn’t want to be in one myself, so I’m not making any suggestions. But I am posing questions to him that will hopefully lead him to the decision that only he should make.

But Obi-Wan needs almost every little thing done for him now. And it’s physically impossible for me to be there 24/7. Thankfully, he has a new home care worker in the mornings and she helps a lot.

I can only imagine what it’s like. Having a sharp, strong mind but a body that’s failing.

He’s so desperate to go be with the CEO.

My selfish side would like to have him around some more. Like the good ole days when we’d eat fried fish and play dominoes at the dinner table.

But my communications to the CEO have been different lately.

Peace.

An end to his suffering.

I’ve never prayed for a friend to pass on.

so you want to be a secret agent (pt V): evangelism

The word evangelism scares me.

It brings me back to my childhood where I attended a Saturday breakfast at the church of christ I grew up in. After breakfast, we were all assigned into teams of two or three and went door-knocking in the local neighborhood.

Even at the tender age of 11, it was painful and embarrassing. Door-knocking was a dismal failure. So impersonal. So sales-pitch-ish. So “us vs. them”. (shudder)

But to criticize door-knocking at age 11 would be the equivalent to pledging allegiance to beelzebubba from the pulpit.

Secret agents generally work incognito. They take Jesus’ words in Matthew chapter 6 pretty seriously. When you give to the needy, don’t try to be seen. When you pray, get out of sight. When you fast, don’t announce it and for god’s sake don’t try to LOOK like you’re fasting.

Secret agents evangelize by doing things, yet not making a scene. They rarely talk or announce anything.

If there’s some menial task that needs to be done for someone else, just do it.

Serving others speaks louder than 1000 damn street preachers or tract passer-outers.

(also see Fletch & G13's recent posts on similar subjects)

post office

The fair mother city has two post offices. The downtown branch has the most interesting, thus enjoyable clientele, so they usually get my business as opposed to the PO in Little Dallas (aka Abilene’s south side).

The federal building which contains the downtown PO takes up the entire northeast block at Pine and N. 3rd. This facility was originally built in the 1930’s (I think) so it has some fairly ornate structure that is absent from most buildings in the fair mother city.

Such as the front steps.

The main entry to the building (by N. 3rd) that faces Pine Street has these grandiose but short series of steps. Like a mini version of those seen on the Supreme Court, NYC apartments or Sesame Street.

For as long as I’ve resided in the fair mother city (since 1989...half my life) these steps have been a notorious venue for the homeless, desperate, panhandlers, and those deemed “undesirable”.

Back in my college days of the early 90’s, there was some mentally handicapped guy who sat on these steps all day and sold newspapers. His sales approach was hilarious. He’d single someone out of a crowd, usually the least confident person, and yell, “hey...HEY” over and over until they paid attention to him. It was funny.

Even my all-time favorite curmudgeon of the streets Momo has been known to camp out on the steps to offer his bird flipping abilities and personalized insults to postal customers.

But mostly, whenever one approaches the downtown PO and sees a quasi desperate-looking person by the steps, you know that person is asking for cash.

One woman once asked me for cash to buy herself some feminine products. Which totally caught me off guard since I was ready to find her food since that’s usually why people ask for money. “What? You want...tampons?”

But the mildly disturbing thing about the downtown PO is the handicap entrance. More specifically: the non-handicapped people like me who often who use it.

It’s located about 25 feet from the main entry facing N. 3rd. So...It’s near the main entry, but around the corner.

I’ve witnessed numerous perfectly healthy, non-handicapped people use the handicap ramp entry to blatantly avoid the panhandlers.

It’s kind of pathetic, but such is life. I’ve done this myself on occasion. Enter the building the easy way without having to face the reality of poverty and desperate-ness.

Help me CEO.

Obi-Wan update 01.24.07

Obi-Wan is home from the hospital, in what could be his shortest hospital stay ever: 7 days.

He's doing well, but his legs are weaker than ever before. It's getting dang near impossible for him to walk around, even with his walker.

He has an electric wheelchair for going out around the neighborhood and maybe someday for use in his house (if he ever lets me rearrange his furniture).

But we really need a regular push wheelchair that can fold up and fit in the Millenium Falcon's trunk for when we visit his doctors, etc.

Any of you locals got any leads on where I might aquire such a wheelchair for next to nothing?...please contact me on the agent hot-line.

same as the old boss

There are situations in life that we flee or escape from...all to find ourselves jump right back into a similar situation without our knowing.

I got burned out from Christian music and praise and worship stuff a long time ago. Part of it had to do with going undercover and blending in with the locals. But mostly there was something lacking in the Christian stuff by way of injustice or even relevance. And Christian music by and large really sucks.

So I found topics that appeal to my faith delivered via prophecy on classic rock radio.

One of my favorite prophetic bands, The Who, sings a song about keeping your eyes open to the same-ole same-ole. Or rather...the Empire that wants to rob us of our imagination and soul. It’s summed up in the last line:

Meet the new boss...same as the old boss.

Grab your guitar and play just like yesterday, then get on your knees and pray: don’t get fooled again.

excerpt from ABV

“Then he will say to those religious jackasses on the left, ‘Hope you enjoy hell! I mean, hey:

I was damn near starving...and you sent me to some half-assed church food pantry for some canned goods.

I was thirsty and you said ‘There’s a water fountain at the library’.

I was lonely and cold and you sent me down to the Salvation Army, where I almost got stabbed.

I needed clothes...so you sent me to another bureaucratic church-run non-prof machine that made me fill out personal information on a stack of forms...just so I could receive some garage-sale reject clothing.

I was sick AND in prison...and you sent me a freakin’ chaplain??!? Why? That guy doesn’t even know me!’

And the guys on the left answered, ‘Lord, when did we send YOU away to these great helps organizations? I’ve never seen you...and I’d never forget that face of yours.’

He will say, ‘I AM the POOR. If you do it to them, you do it to me. Case closed.”

*(Matthew 25:41-45 from the Agent B Version)

lead role in a cage

Recently I did something I never thought I’d ever do. And that’s show up at a local joint with my 10 caliber and play at an open mic night.

I’ve tried making a go at my former musician identity in recent years, but the opportunities for my act were few and my past demons were strong.

I figure this open mic night would work for my slow and steady re-entry into that hot tub known as the gigging circuit.

This place was filled with like 99% young college students. Which means none of them knew of me since I haven’t played much since 2002. That was more than fine with me. Fresh start, I suppose.

All went well. The young crowd was far more attentive and responsive than I expected.

There were several others there playing too that night, mostly singer/song-writer types. One kid played a unique performance of Pink Floyd’s “Wish You Were Here”.

That got me thinking of Jack’s recent post on a line from that song that goes “did you exchange the walk on part in the war for a lead role in a cage?”

I am convinced that there was a necessary period of my life to lay low and get out of the public spotlight in everything I do, including music.

But getting back “out there” in the gig universe has been difficult.

My music is a warring of sorts, and I let the enemy talk me into being a caged hero of nothing in recent years.

I think I’m finally getting released.

Slowly.

allow me to introduce...

...the newest agent in the local agent network (and the one I'm closest to).

After much prodding by me (and even a few comments by Jack), Agent Wife finally gives us her own agent reports via her own blog.

Agent Wife is no stranger to this blog world. Not only is she a frequent commenter here and a few other places, but she actively maintains a blog by her real identity (it's mostly cute photos of our kids, etc.) which isn't an appropriate outlet for agent reports. Anyway, she explains all on her first post.

Please go visit the agent wife files. Make her feel welcome.

Obi-Wan update

FYI: Obi-Wan went back into the hospital today due to his messed up legs and feet.

My kids are beginning to think he lives there.