Considering that song as the best metaphor for Solomon's Song of Songs, it's the kinda romantic passion lacking at the core of most post-marital care/counseling.
Admittedly, I was devastated upon discovering she wasn't singing about me.
Despite the plethora of calls and e-mails while away last week, I had time to think about stuff like that; and, as you know, KD's goal is to provoke thought rather than agreement as our/their American political/socioeconomic/ecclesiastical culture declines/devolves quicker than poop through a goose.
My mom started it all off this time by clipping, saving, and handing James C. DeSombre's obituary to me as soon as I arrived.
He died on October 4.
I assume it was the same kinda cancer that got his older brother Kurt.
Maybe if we spent more $ on research to save lives rather than abort, euthanize, or bomb 'em away...
Jimmy was one of my best friends in high school until his athleticism led him to stardom while mine led me to the sideline, Mountain, and precursors to Woodstock; yet our bond was cemented/connected as he dated Mimi while I dated her best friend Ruthie to the tune of Meatloaf's epic.
Jimmy was the star, Mimi and Ruthie were cheerleaders, and I was playing biker-poet.
Reading that obit, I thought of my first trip to D.C.'s Vietnam Memorial; recalling the tears streaming down my face as I spotted the name of a boy who shared my birthdate and died over there while I...
What am I doing with my life?
Have I accomplished anything worth a heaven/damn?
I can't get Martin Luther King, Jr.'s words out of my mind (2/4/68): "Every now and then I guess we all think realistically about that day when we will be victimized with what is life's common denominator - that something we call death. We all think about it. And every now and then I think about my own death, and I think about my own funeral. And I don't think of it in a morbid sense. Every now and then I ask myself, 'What is it that I would want said?'"
I just finished my next-to-last book: I Just Wanna Ride (FTW).
Ah, I guess we'll see.
I played the best back-to-back rounds, uh, of my life with my dad last Monday and Tuesday on really tough courses.
One bad shot in 36 holes.
I overheard him say to my mom, "Bobby is a championship golfer. He's playing the best golf of his life. He's scratch."
It was strictly OBE; and I wondered if it was my Caddyshack moment.
Yeah, I thought about a lotta/too/many things.
1. Does anyone seriously think Boise not-a-real-State-it's-a-city would even be on BCS radar if they played in the Big 12, Big Ten, Pacific 10, SEC, MAC, or even the ACC or Big East?
2. PBHO won the Nobel Peace Prize for, uh, geez, wazzupwitdat, uh, uh, uh, uh,... Oh, I get it! He's changed our national/global mood. Kinda like those lava lamps that we used when... Yeah, it makes sense now. Reality looks much better while stoned.
3. Rush Limbaugh ain't gonna be a NFL owner any time soon. C'mon, crackers! Deal with it! He does sound like a racist to everyone but WASPS. Scroll down and review the Bob Rule.
4. Jim Irsay said Rush Limbaugh doesn't have the kinda character that qualifies for NFL ownership. Please! Isn't he the guy that moved the Colts from Baltimore to Indy in the middle of the night like a rat running for cover before dawn?
5. Getting back to, uh, reality, Hugo Chavez and Rush Limbaugh think PBHO didn't deserve the Nobel previously awarded to Arafat and Carter. Henry Kissinger and Nancy Pelosi gushed and celebrated PBHO's selection. Pass the weed!
6. The Yankees are headed to another World Series which means free enterprise in America ain't dead yet.
7. My next book will be my last.
I'm really tired of all the yelling, contention, disaffections, disunities, my-way-or-the-highway-pick-up-your-marbles-disloyalties, and the unlike in our world.
My soul is weeping.
My energies have been sapped.
I gave it my best and...
On the brighter side, a note from a friend in South Carolina who received a note from a friend in South Carolina: "I stopped at a garage sale...nothing much there except for one book which I have just finished reading: Fifteen Secrets for Life and Ministry by Robert R. Kopp in 2004...Anyway, the book was very good and a bonus was that the teaching was done with quite a sense of humor as well."
I guess there's hope for I Just Wanna Ride (FTW).
Metaphor pour moi.
I heard a corporate shrink say many years ago, "You are not responsible for what others say and do; but you are responsible for what you say and do and how you respond to what others say and do."
So, while away, I decided to ratchet up my quest for authenticity.
I'm not giving up; but I'm intensifying my look up, stand up, speak up, and act up for Jesus.
I've decided to take Him more seriously than ever; and not allow the lesser denominators in my life/ministry to dictate to me.
I have only one Lord.
While I've kinda been known for saying what I mean and meaning what I say, I have decided that every question will receive a naked answer (i.e., without anesthetizing euphemisms) that will be recanted publicly if proven wrong.
So don't ask if...
Parenthetically, there are some questions that will require one of the following responses that were outlined by the last great President of PTS (amended after #4 with no apologies):
3. "We'll talk about that later."
4. "It's none of your business."
5. "Thank you for sharing that."
6. "I may be wrong; but here's what I think..."
7. "Quite frankly, I don't care what you think..."
8. "If you would get your head out of..."
9. "So you're still on crack..."
I guess being away and looking back has propelled me to consider a future guided by previous principles.
Or something like that.
Think before it's too late.
Blessings and Love!
Um...I believe it was Robert Irsay who moved the Colts from Baltimore, and that his son Jim is a man of very different character.
Thanks, friend! I appreciate you taking the time to correct my mistake.
Blessings and Love!
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