Spiritual PPE

The denizens are aging up here at the Old Place.  Some like a fine whiskey slowly mellowing to perfection, others like a favorite pair of shoes becoming softer and more comfortable. Our values were forged in the old days, by the old ways.  All perfect, proper ladies and gentlemen. . . oh, not hardly. We have someone who drinks too much. We have someone who went to prison, oh, all right, he was the assistant warden. We even have one Weather Underground radical who is hiding out. Look, I make "magic" wands.  We are eclectic.

How is it then that all these so-called "pedophile priests" are Catholic?  The obvious answer is that priests are, after all, pretty much exclusively a Catholic thing. However, if you change the moniker from Catholic priest to Christian minister, well, gee whiz, there just do not seem to be any pedophiles among any other Christian leaders, at least no reports of any by ABC, CBS, NBC, CNN, BBC, or PMS-NBC. (Local news? There are plenty, but none on big media.) Here is the telling part: there has not been one report of any Islamic imam, Sikh, Shinto, or Buddhist pedophile on any of the Big Cs, only Catholic priests, hmm.  Are Catholic priests really the only ones?  Now, why do you think that is?  If you wanted to ruin someone's reputation, undermine their character, bring down their business, and destroy their lives, what would you do? Easy, get some dissatisfied group or person, real or imagined (Islam, Radicalized women, LGBTQ, etc.) to make an accusation, then get the help of the wealthiest, most powerful people on earth, the Big Cs TV news media.

Think about it, how do you beat the biggest gang on the block?  You subvert their leaders. Start rumors, tell stories, and get their followers to become suspicious and doubt their ability to lead. Then you get one to turn on them, and before you know it, the leaders and the gang are down. Where is the best place to punch? The head, of course.  A sniper shoots the head, not the body.

History tells us that every other Christian "church" (45,000 by last count) was formed by someone who became dissatisfied with the church of which they were already a member. "I'll teach them a lesson. I've had a revelation from God. I'll start my OWN church." How does Satan tap into this dissatisfaction?  He wants to destroy Christ's Church on earth and send everyone to hell, so what does he do? He whispers in the ears of priests and bishops. "God understands confession, but you must first protect the church." Satan subverts some of Christ's Catholic priesthood, undermines their character, destroys the flock's trust, and thereby their faith in the shepherds. Satan wants everyone to abandon Christ's Church in favor of any of the scattered, weaker ones. Satan is not going to waste time with the weaker flocks. He is going to bring down the Royal Priesthood of Catholic shepherds that have protected the flock from the wolves for 2,000 years! So, what's it got to do with safety? 

If we abandon the bride and her shepherds (Our Personal Safety) to Satan, then damnation (Injury and Death) becomes "quicker, easier, and more seductive." The Catholic Church is our Spiritual PPE. Right now, it is Christ's yoke (Safety Plan) that is easy, His burden (Safety Compliance) that is light.

Now Woa-Up, Wait a minute!  Before you burn up your keyboard, this is not a defense of the disgusting and criminal actions of pedophiles and their protectors. This is not a Catholic problem, it is not a Liberal problem or an LGBTQ problem, it is a problem of people, imperfect, sinful people... all people. Like the Ice Man said, "Maverick, it's not your flying, it's your attitude. You may not like the people you fly with; they may not like you, but whose side are you on?"

Sitting in a rocker at the Old Place, I am Col. Jim

Here’s To The Good Old Ways

It is the start of a new year on the calendar.  I have often felt that time stands still up here at the Old Place.  Pretty much everyone keeps to the old ways, the good old ways.  We have a general store, run by a retired Marine.  It also serves as the post office and first point of contact for strangers to the area, usually lost because their navigation app was inscrutable.  Older, and more able to appreciate the good old ways, we welcome them as long lost friends.  Our police department is a park ranger station whose “Major Crimes Division” handles nothing more exotic than a band of masked marauders cavorting about in someone’s attic.  (Raccoons)  So, it came as a surprise when at 6:00am on December 31^st my short wave radio began to crackle; it was Ruth.

            “Mornin’ Colonel,” she said, “Sorry to bother you, but you have an overseas telephone call.”

“Really, at six in the morning, now that’s strange Gunny,” I replied.

“Oh that’s not the best part,” Ruth chuckled.  “Despite all our travels, this call is from the one place neither you nor I have never been to before.”

“I’m listening,” said I.

There was a brief pause from Ruth, then, “Come on over.”

This was intriguing.  I went out, hopped in the old Tornio and drove to the store.  As I walked in, I could smell the coffee.  Ruth put a big mug, laced with real cream and sugar, in front of me, and went off to unlock the front door.

            “Hello?”

The heavily accented Micronesian voice on the other end replied, “Kukuri Menaái Ririki maiia Kiribati*, Colonel Jim!”

“I appreciate the sentiment,” I replied, “but it’s not New Years day yet,” or was it?  I began to think and to muse.  Kiribati was a name I had not heard in a long time.  Long before MaryHannah was born, way before I met Melinda, indeed while I was still in short pants, Sister Claire Germane had taught our 2^nd grade class about time zones.  This phone call was from the future!

It is now, almost 18 hours later, on a chilly New Year’s Eve night.  Folks across the globe are partying their way through the waning hours of 2017.  The Old Colonel is curled up under a Biederlac in front of the fire.  Audrey and Molly are in my lap as usual while the gliders bark and glide around the Old Place and throw bottle caps, a cute but noisy ruckus.  I sat there and contemplated how this day had begun and what I should learn from it.  I had received a call from the future, but if so, then the other person had placed a call to the past!  We all know that it is possible to go back in time Einstein proved it, in theory.  So all I had to do was take a phone call from Kiribati and all of sudden I was much more clever than Einstein.  This was fantastic!  I could go back in time, back to the good old ways. . . .  WOAH hoss, not so fast.  When I received that call at 6:00am on December 31, 2017, from the tiny island of Kiribati in the Pacific Ocean, there it was already January 1, 2018.  How?  Kiribati rests astride the International Date Line on the opposite side of the world.  On one side today, on the other side, tomorrow!  Disappointed?  Don’t be.  We have an entirely new year full of new days and new months, to live, to learn, to share, to love.   

Sitting in a rocker at the Old Place I am, Col. Jim.

* Happy New Year from Kiribati.

Farewell to Mr. Rog

Good Saturday morning my friends.  My name is Col. Jim and this is my Old Place.  This time of year, there is plenty of time for reflection up here at the Old Place.  The days are cool and cloudy and the woods are somehow quieter. Today, I am reading from a thin, blue binder and remembering an old friend.  The author paints a vision of a young sailor standing on the smoking, listing deck of a US destroyer.  A Japanese torpedo has just blown off their stern leaving the ship, dead in the water in the middle of a major sea battle and taking 19 of his shipmates to their deaths.  I could almost smell the cordite and hear the explosions.  As I close the binder, I see a patch glued to the front of it depicting a leaping Wild Indian shooting a bow and arrow.  The arrow is pointed down.  I like to believe that is because he is shooting at that Japanese submarine, the preferred prey of our WWII destroyers. That patch is the unit insignia of Destroyer Squadron 23, “The Little Beavers” activated on May 11, 1943.  Under the command of Commodore Arleigh “31 Knot” Burke, DESRON 23 earned a Presidential Unit Citation fighting 22 engagements while destroying a Japanese cruiser, nine destroyers, one submarine, several smaller ships, and approximately 30 aircraft.  That young sailor was a small, “Foote Note,” if you will,  among the many young men who served.  Wilbur V. Rogers was not even old enough to drink when with seabag hoisted over his shoulder he gazed up the gang way toward the USS Foote, the ship that would be his home for the next two years.  Rog served in the Main Battery Director targeting enemy aircraft with the deadly twin 44 mm cannons.  As Rog shared, his sea stories his shipmates and their lives and battles came alive!  “James, you could get those guns to fire together or to alternate.  I never liked it when they fired together.  If I could get them firing alternately that meant there was always lead in the air!”  As Rog told me about what history calls, the Battle of Empress of Augusta Bay, I felt like I was there. “It was 3 O’Clock in the morning and we had just executed a hard left turn to come up on the starboard quarter of the USS Converse. A minute later a Japanese torpedo struck us at an angle behind the aft 5 inch gun mount.  We were making 31-knots and immediately went dead in the water.  All we could do was watch as our stern section drifted away, turned slowly and began to sink.”  Ultimately, the USS Foote was repaired and returned to the war taking Rog and his crew mates to the siege called, “Okinawa’s Ring of Tin.”  So, you ask, what’s it got to do with safety?  When one thinks of the sacrifices made by our military and their families, the answer to that question becomes clear.  

34 years ago, my father-in-law, Charlie Munley, introduced me to his best friend, yep, it was Rog.  At the time  Rog was working for Marathon Oil, a company known for it’s safety program.  As we got to know each other Mr. Rog gradually became the grandfather I never had.  Rog took me on personal guided tours of our USS Kidd, also a Fletcher class destroyer and of course took the time to point out all of the “safety” features.  This story is over long and a very difficult one for me to end.  “We all get old if we live long enough,” Rog once said.  Well I guess that’s true.  Rog was the last surviving crewman of the USS Foote and as such, according to US Navy tradition, has the right to be called, “USS Foote.”  Today I learned that at 92 years, USS Foote had passed away.  He is now reunited with our mighty God and with his sweet Ona Vee. To say that I will miss him is not enough.  Rog’s life, his character and his patriotism are a testament to what is good about our country and why we should fight to keep it that way.  So rather than mourn, let this be my prayer, for all of us who remain, “Fair winds and following seas” shipmate!  Until we meet again.  Sitting in a rocker at the Old Place, I am Col. Jim.

Social Media: Love It, Leave It or Use It.

Up here at the Old Place we know how to use things. When you have to hit something, you use a hammer, not a wrench. When you want to go fishing, you do not drive ole Fezzie (tractor) into the lake, you hop in the boat and if someone needs a hand, we usually give them two!  The other day, Hannah said that she was thinking of quitting FB and going back to, "the lost art of letter writing." I know how she is feeling. The same thing used to gnaw at me sometimes. Hannah even gave up social media completely for lent this year.  What a gal!  A break from anything can be a good idea. It allows you to step back and reassess.  Social media. . . well, I believe that requires a different approach.

First, ask yourself, 'Why do I use social media?'  There are lots of reasons:

1. Personal: Keeping up with old friends and making new ones, in other words, being sociable.

2. Special Interests for Fun: Cars (You knew that would be first.), Sugar Gliders, Dogs, Food, Sports, Travel, Hobbies, Home repair.

3. Special Interest Practical: Professional networking, Promoting your business, Buying and Selling.

4. BATTLE!:  If you have seen the movie, Michael, you will understand the reference. This is for your politics and causes.

1 and 2 can mix, 1, 2 and 3 could mix but should not, and 4 should never mix with anything.  

I believe the thing to do with social media is to use IT, instead of letting IT use us. Take FB for example, if I see something I want to comment on, I start my own thread and see where it goes. I also look at a responder's profile and personal FB page before replying to them. If I find things that make me realize there is no point in including them, I delete them from the thread and block them. Of the ones you leave on the thread, if they go Kujo on you STOP and dump them, fast!  Do not let them pollute the waters with their poisons. The cool part is, YOU can still comment on their stuff if YOU want to, otherwise, put 'um in File 13.  (TIP:  If you do not respond directly, they will not be able to defeat your Block.)

Finally, remember, the church wants us to be an evangelist for the faith. Pappa Frances is Tweeting all the time for us to do this with love.  Here then is simple a process to follow when using social media:

1. Pray for God's grace to guide you. 

2. Read and reread your post for content. 

3. Read and reread your post for grammar and spelling. 

4. Post ONLY if you want to entertain or to make a positive difference in the lives of your readers. 

5. Never post to get "it" off your chest. You may feel better at first but not for the long haul.

So, What's It Got to Do With Safety?  

Keeping your business and personal life as separate as possible will keep the two from interfering with each other to your grief. You can apologize for a gaff made face to face, but a gaff on social media can explode, hurt or anger hundreds, cost you friendships, your job, even your professional standing.  Then, there goes your blood pressure!  Or you could slide on up to the Old Place, grab a cold drink, pour yourself into rocker (they are available) and work the crossword in the paper.  That's what I'm doing, sitting in a rocker at the Old Place, I am, Col. Jim.