A random act of kindness....

Once upon a time a vocal minority decided to boycott Chick-Fil-A for not supporting their views. Since that time its been nearly impossible for me to get lunch at Chick-Fil-A. It seems the silent majority thought it would be good to show their support by eating there every day. Since I had limited time for lunch today I opted out of a chicken sandwich at the crowded spot for a Mcburger next door. I pulled through the drive with my burger, parked under a tree, and watched the traffic flow at the boycotted Chick-Fil-A. Eventually a young mother came out with a set of twin toddlers and a younger sib in her arms....patting her in the face over and over and over. She couldn't get across the crowded parking lot because the twins had obviously had straight sugar for lunch and were bouncing all over the sidewalk. The mom couldn't keep them close to her. She stood on the sidewalk for several minutes taking the pats to the face with a smile. As I watched, an older man in the McDonald's drive through pulled over, parked his pickup, and walked over to the stranded mom. He introduced himself then gently grabbed one of the twins mid-bounce. He walked over and lifted the second twin into his arms. He walked back to the mom to assure her and then escorted the four safely across the parking lot, helping the mom strap the twins into their car seats before turning back to his pickup. He then drove around McDonalds to get back in line for his own lunch. First of all, yes, I should have helped the poor lady but I was in a kind of stupor and didn't realize her problem in time. Secondly, yep, the man ran the considerable risk of getting mace in the face or possibly handcuffs on his wrists. It's a shame we live in a world where a random act of kindness is newsworthy....where a person has to really dare to be nice to a stranger....where a minority of the population decides for us what is okay and what will happen if we don't agree....a world where the silent majority continues to take it...silently. It's also a shame the Chick-Fil-A is so crowded I can't get lunch there anymore.

Key Words

Somewhere along my path of life I took a detour or two and now find myself the sole buyer for a large locksmith business located here in Colleyville, Texas. I buy for the main facility in Colleyville, three remote shops located throughout the Metroplex, 25 independent locksmiths driving company vans, and one large warehouse. All I wanted was a stress free little job to keep me occupied while I patiently wait for my "official retirement" on September 1, 2016. I went to work here as a temporary consultant helping to establish and install an inventory control system. The buyer for the company was an older guy....yes, even older than me. This guy got sick not long after I showed up. They asked if I would fill in until he returned. That was five years ago. I'm beginning to think he's not coming back. My days are so fast-paced I don't have time to buy in the industry approved methods. I have to get out there and find it fast...all day long....every day. This is why I have become a self-declared expert on Google. Anything I need to find can be found on the internet. Just type in those critical key words and everything you ever wanted to know comes barreling onto your screen with lightning speed. Those key words are cool. However, most companies have figured out if they use more and more key words the odds are you are going to see their site too...even if they have nothing at all to do with the item you're looking for. Several really big name stores practice this. I can Google "2-3/8" backset dead latch, early version Yale lock" and I know without a doubt that both Sears and Grainger stock that very part....unfortunately if you aren't a brilliant Googler like me you might spend an hour searching that site while seeing sales on anything from lingerie to lawnmowers. I understand. This is actually good marketing. The sites that really get to me are those that only demented dirty old men and teenage boys would search out. My advice is to never ever venture beyond the first page of listings. Seriously, does "See our HOT COLLEGE GIRLS playfully install a double cylinder Schlage deadbolt....NAKED" really need to be included in a professional search for locksmith parts?!


I asked Debbie what I could do to get more readers on this site. Other than the obvious, "write something once in a while you idiot", she suggested I start using a few strong key words. So I wrote "Last night D...........


This portion has been CENSORED by the Department of Ethical Behavior Bossy In Excess (DEBBIE).


...whew, that was funny and used nearly every key word imaginable. The readership should grow like crazy now!"

The Ladies of LaDora

Evidently Papa didn't have a whole lot to say...I opened the blog to see it has been well over a year since my last posting. Life has been complicated...complicated but not bad. Each day brings its own surprises and blessings from the Lord. Don't get me started on my new granddaughter, Charlee. What a joy she is to me. My dad is gone now. His last year was hard on him and his family. He was so tired of sitting without activity, tired of struggling for each breath. Now he is resting in Paradise waiting for the day we will all join together in that awesome walk through the gates of Heaven. .....wow, that was heavy stuff from a blog intended for humor.


Speaking of humor, that last sentence originally read ".....blog intended for humo". I don't know what humo is but I will try to find out before my next posting a year or two from now. My little personal notebook computer is beginning to show its age. I have to really concentrate to include "r" in my writing. This key has taken early retirement and has to be coaxed to participate. The computer also has a tendency to wander on its own while I'm working. One minute I will be on a spreadsheet creating very important data, such as how many steps I have to take to burn off the double dip sundae I ate at Braum's earlier today....the next minute the screen flashes to obscure stuff I don't recognize or understand. Basically the computer has begun to act just like my brain in my "golden" years.


I guess I should get around to what I was originally going to write when I opened this page. I stopped by LaDora to see my mom after I got off work yesterday. She and the girls had already gathered at the popular table to laugh at the old men, drink coffee, and wait for dinner to be served. After my dad died it took my mom nearly two weeks before she ventured down to the cafeteria alone. When she did she sat down at their table and felt so totally alone. A precious soul named Sue came over to her and suggested she not sit at that table anymore. Sue invited her to come with her and they would create a new table for the two of them. It didn't take long before another resident joined them and they began to tell old tales and create new bonds of friendship. The table has become "the cool table". It has grown to a group of six with several more waiting for an opening. I love these old ladies and I have to admit, they are crazy about me. I make them laugh. One of them even asked me to come more often and stay for dinner once in a while. Well, last night's visit was a little different. When I arrived and pulled up a chair there was no talk. No smiling faces. There was a cold iciness the likes of which I experienced often during my career when meeting with contractors who were unhappy with me for some reason....what did I do? How did I make these sweet ladies mad at me? As I looked around the table I noticed a new face...and not a friendly one! Someone had taken it on herself to commandeer one of the sought after six seats at the cool table. The other ladies were upset because one of the golden girls had been pushed out and this rebel was taking over. I tried to get a conversation going...told some of my best, enduring lies about growing up with my mom playing the role of "mom". I didn't get so much as a smile. Before I could address the problem, some poor old guy rolled into the room and asked the rebel to please move her wheelchair forward an inch or two so he could get past. The rebel's head swiveled 180 degrees as she stared the poor old guy down. She told him loudly, and with words seldom heard publicly, to get away from her and leave her alone. The spell was broken. The golden girls had had enough. They tore into the rebel with a vengeance I did not know existed in a nursing home. My mom and I sat slack-jawed and silent as this verbal abuse accelerated. In a stupid, STUPID reaction I asked the ladies to calm down. I was told in several ways and decibels  to mind my own business. After a few minutes I decided it best to do what any rational person would do.....I patted my mom on the shoulder and whispered, "see ya tomorrow"....then I took off as fast as my bum leg and cane would go. I admit, I did feel a little guilty about leaving my mom in the middle of a brawl so I turned around to get her and take her to her room. When I turned I saw she had backed her wheelchair away from the table and was watching with a big grin on her face. She was enjoying the show. It may be a few days before I visit the ladies at LaDora again.

I took Granny-Grunt to Church today

Since both the parents are now living at LaDora Lodge, a fancy name for a not so fancy nursing home, they like to take every opportunity to get out of there for an adventure. I had planned to pick them up for church this morning and then take them out for a bite of lunch afterwards. We've done this a few times and its been nice but today we were going to visit my church. Now my church is Legacy Church of Christ. My parents go to Brown Trail Church of Christ. Both are wonderful congregations with kind and loving members. However, Brown Trail is a smaller congregation with about 200 members and Legacy has over 1000 members. Brown Trail is a bit more conservative than Legacy in their worship. We don't have any bands playing up front but occasionally someone claps to the singing or raises their hands in worship. Granny-Grunt hails from a generation which doesn't cotton to a church that doesn't worship the way it was done in the 50's. Also, it is well documented in the brotherhood that your home congregation must be named after the street you are located on or the city where you are located...i.e. The Church in Corinth, The Church in Rome, Azle Church of Christ, Pipeline Rd Church of Christ, Brown Trail Church of Christ. Mike Cooper won't visit our church because there ain't no Legacy....town or street. Anyway, when I got over to LaDora to pick them up I found Granny-Grunt ready to go and Grandpa sitting in his pj's reading the paper. He had come up with a lower intestine malady during the night. You don't want to hear more. So I took Granny-Grunt and headed over to the Church in North Richland Hills on Mid-Cities Blvd. known as Legacy Church of Christ. She was anxious to hear the beautiful singing and the lesson offered by a wonderful speaker, J Bailey. However, she got distracted by three little grandkids of mine. They all tried to entertain this older lady sitting in their spot. One by one they were all taken out because everyone around us was watching the grandkids instead of paying attention to the service....anyway that's what I'm thinking. Everyone around was staring at us anyway. After church I took Granny-Grunt out to eat. My son Cody and his family went with us. The three grandkids were just as cute as could be. Really entertaining...really. They all left early to "get the kids down for a nap". I swear I heard my daughter-in-law, Cayce, whimper when she walked out carrying the really real baby while my son wrestled with the walking and talking baby. Those kids are so darn cute. As we drove back to LaDora Granny-Grunt said the morning was the best she could remember. Of course she can't remember much. She introduces herself to Grandpa just about every morning. I was glad  to hear this because she sat silently through the whole service with her arms crossed and a frown on her face. I asked if she enjoyed the singing and preaching as much as she expected. She told me she didn't know. Her hearing aid battery died right after "Welcome all you visitors to Lega...."

Chat rooms...

I haven't tried a chat room since I got internet for the first time and innocently entered a chat room that was obviously for those with....I'll just say "different" interests. I just don't do chat rooms. Those my brother Glenn uses are a lot more practical because they discuss the merits, problems, and overall care of old cars. This has never interested me because I drive old cars as a necessity while it's a hobby for most.

A few weeks ago my dad decided he was strong enough to take the old Ford out for one more drive. In the process he racked up two collisions, one charge of leaving the scene of an accident, an encounter with a really large curb, and one flattened stop sign. The police officer was kind enough to not haul him into jail if one of us would pick him up and take away his keys forever. We did and he has decided "on his own" that he should probably not try to drive anymore. He asked me to take care of selling the Ford.

Debbie took me over to pick up the Ford and I drove it to my house. I made for sale signs and went out to attach the signs and back it up close to the street. I couldn't get it to start. I cranked and cranked and nothing would work. I saw a little red THEFT flashing on the dashboard so I went in and Googled "Ford Taurus Theft Device". Every entry ended with the same information, "refer to owner's manual". I knew my dad was very organized about things like this and immediately went to the car's glove box...which was empty...not even a proof of insurance card. I finally found the manual at their house in the drawer of an end table in the den...just where it ought to be. I looked up "theft device". The solution was simple: "Insert key on driver's door, turn left, unlock door and enter vehicle". That did not solve the problem so I called Glenn and he took the problem to the chat rooms. His first call back to me was to do what I had just done, insert key on driver's door....I told him that didn't work so he went back to the room. The next day I was told to try another approach which also didn't work. The next day the idea given to him was to "kill that stinkin theft device by cutting wires and shorting something pink against the frame". I didn't even try that. Finally he was given some really good advice: "Disconnect the battery and let the car sit for half an hour while the computer rebooted itself". Brilliant! I ran outside and immediately tried this remedy. Nope, that didn't fix it. I decided the only thing for me to do was to brave a chat room myself and explain in detail everything I had tried. Since I didn't know how to go about finding a room I Googled "Let's chat about what's ailing my Ford Taurus". I was led to a room and stated my problem. Nothing...no response...I am waiting...and then an answer came to me. The response was from the reverend Roy Albert Payne of the Church of the Living TV Station. It read: Hi there brethern, I am Roy Albert Payne. My friends call me Roy Al and I would be blessed if you would too. I am not a mechanic. I am an ordained minister in the work of the Lawd. I can HEAL your Taurus if you have faith and will send me anywhere from $50 to $1000 dollars. I will in turn send you one of my personally blessed prayer cloths which you can attach to the antenna of your vehicle and fly it proudly as you drive down the road in your perfectly restored auto. PRAISE THE LAWD!! As you travel down the road of life, even if you drive in the valley of the shadow of death, you will fear no evil for as you drive you will know that the reverend Roy Al Payne is flying there above you.....YESSSSSIR! I sent him $5. I hope it works.

The power of advertising...

While watching those brilliant criminal minds solve yet another gruesome case last night, my coma was interrupted by a commercial about fresh, hot biscuits...right out of your own oven in only eight minutes. Butter was dripping off them while honey was lazily poured on top. ARGHH, I needed those biscuits!!! I couldn't even doze back off when the program started again. I asked Debbie if she would go to the store as soon as possible to get two, no make that three cans of those golden biscuits. She told me we already had a can of biscuits in the fridge which I could make tomorrow morning if I wanted.

As soon as I woke this morning a little song (to the tune of "Can't Get Enough Of Those Sugar Crisps") started repeating itself in my brain. "Gonna git me some o' those biscuits, biscuits, biscuits". I got all dressed up for work, and I have to admit I looked pretty darn good. I turned on the coffee and pre-heated the oven....still singing "biscuits, biscuits, biscuits". I rummaged through the fridge in a near panic before finding the biscuits tucked way in the back...."biscuits, biscuits, biscuits"...I found a flat cookie sheet, greased it, washed off the grease after reading the instructions on the can, and slowly unpeeled the label off the can....AS instructed. One half inch into the peeling process I was surprised by a loud KABOOM! That can of biscuits went off like the Fourth of July. Little biscuit shrapnel covered my shirt, my face, my glasses, and my hair. Biscuit dough dotted the cabinets, the stove, a nice display of fresh oranges, and the ceiling. As I regained conscienceness and looked at what was left of the biscuit can I was able to make out the expiration date...July 24, 2012. I swear I heard Debbie giggling from the bedroom while I cleaned up the mess.

I hereby resolve....

A very smart teenage girl told me and her dad one day that we were being foolish talking about a birthday being special. She said, "Every day is the same. You aren't getting a year older, you're getting a day older." Pretty wise for a pimply-faced teen. She did grow up to be a successful physician though, so I guess she had some degree of intelligence working for her even then.

Tomorrow will begin another year. In the words of pimply-faced teen it's just one more day in a continuing saga called life. Our family will gladly kiss 2012 goodbye and look forward to a more promising 2013. A lot of bad happened for us in 2012 and we hope things are better next year....tomorrow....one day later. Life isn't going to majically improve starting tomorrow unless we RESOLVE it so. So, right now I hereby resolve that 2013 will be better. I resolve to be happy in 2013. Life is not going to beat me down to the bloody, miserable glob I am right now. I will walk straight, without a limp. I will not groan every time I get out of my chair.  I will not feel sorry for myself, no matter what happens. I'm going to be the Mr. Peppermint, Sunshine Boy, and Pilsbury Dough Boy all rolled into one. You are very welcome....enjoy.

Now, back to reality. I really am going to be a better person...unless Debbie keeps looking at puppies on the internet and saying, "OH, HOW SWEET. I THINK I WOULD REALLY ENJOY A BIGGER DOG." I'm sure you all remember the previous three disasters with pets and us. I'm going to take away her computer priviliges and insist she seek counseling if she dares try to talk me into another pet. I'm also going to be happy and helpful all year long unless Debbie doesn't take the posting off Craig's List for my beloved scooter. Why should I give up my scooter just because I fell off a ladder and broke my leg. That had nothing to do with the scooter. It shouldn't have to pay for my stupidity. She better back off is all I have to say.....in a kind and loving way.

I wish you all a very happy New Year. However, you will have to be the one to make it happen.