Most Things in Moderation

                       

  

I’m a pretty reasonable guy - I don’t usually live in the excesses of life.  But there are a few products, however, that bring out the addict in me.  I’m not sure why, its not like these products have a government warning on them.  Because of this, I would assume that they are fairly safe for the general public.  But not for me.

Give me a club cracker or some type of “fancy party” cracker and I’ll choke one down to be polite or to sustain me until the main course.  But put a sleeve of Ritz Crackers in the house . . . and it’s goin’ down.  Seriously, I’m all in.  I don’t know why, but I can’t stop until the sleeve is in the trash.  It’s not that I plan to eat the whole sleeve of crackers . . . it just happens.  I’ll close it up a couple of times, but then . . . crinkle crinkle . . . I’m back in action.  Actually, I’m taking a break to go upstairs and grab some crackers right now.

Ok, I’m back.  I’m eating, but I’m back.

Offer me some cake or pie and I’ll probably politely say “No thank you.”  But . . . you make a pan of brownies and I’ll push the elderly and in firmed out of the way to get at it.  No joke.  And I don’t need anyone to get fancy with ‘em either.  I don’t need ice cream or icing and I certainly don’t want nuts or any other “mix-in”.  Just give me a pan of brownies and I’ll give you a scene that you won’t soon forget.  It’s best if you don’t make eye contact during the action either.  Trust me...just avert your eyes and wait until its over.

Hard Candy?  No thanks.  Candy Bars?  Nope.  Peanut M&Ms?  You have no idea.

Again, let’s not get all cute with ‘em.  Don’t be talking about M&Ms with pretzels or almonds or dark chocolate.  Don’t even get me started on those crispy M&Ms of years ago.  Just the regular ol’ Peanut M&Ms is what drives me out into the darkened corners of my neighborhood in the middle of the night.  Ok, so I’ve not gone out on a “Midnight Buy” in a while, but it’s been done.  Oh...it’s been done.

What’s the deal?  Seriously?  Everything in moderation until the triple threat listed above shows up and the next thing I know I’m staring in an episode of “Intervention.”   “Mom, Dad, Uncle Jerry?  What are you guys doing here?”  

Look, its not like I’m eating ‘Fun Size’ Bars. (See earlier blog post).

I’d love to type more tonight, but . . . I’m finished with those crackers and I’m kind of feeling like some M&Ms.  It’s getting late, but I know just the place.  There is an old warehouse district close to my house.  You walk up to a large metal door and knock loudly, 3 times.  A small peep window is pulled and you say, “Hit me... and make ‘em crazy”  I know what you’re thinking.  “It seems like you’d do anything just for some M&Ms”

You have no idea.

JJ

"Eat, Drink and Get Diabetes"

Ok, so a little background here. My wife and I are directors of an inner-city Community Center. Because of this, we often buy large quantities of certain items to be distributed at the Center. This has the potential of making us look a little . . . odd at the checkout counter.




So, I pick up bread from a local grocery store each week in order to give it away to individuals and families at the Center. I have discovered something in this process: One of the best ways to attract the attention of the general public is to buy a cart full of bread. Believe me, it works every time.

It seems that everyone has something funny to say. Everyone is the comedian. Here’s the deal, I know I look like a dweeb with a hundred loaves of bread in the cart - so, I let them have their fun and I try to have a little too.

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Cashier: “Wow, what are you going to do with all of this bread?” 

Me: “It’s weird. I’ve just been craving toast lately! I just can’t get enough of the stuff!”

Cashier: “Looks like somebody’s a little hungry today. You like bread?” 

Me: “No. It’s just that I’m running a marathon tomorrow so I’m carb loading. You guys didn’t have enough pasta.”

Cashier: “What?!! Hey Carl, check out how much bread this guy is buyin’!! Dude is craaazy!!” 

Me: “You think this is crazy - You should see how much peanut butter I’ve got in my car right now!”

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So it’s fun, right? Each week, it goes something like this. But one week in particular stands out for me.

Ok. So, I go in and get the bread and approach the counter as usual. There are two ladies behind the counter. One lady is the cashier and one is ready to bag the bread. The ladies both give a polite, “hello” - Then, both ladies survey the mountain of bread in my cart. Both ladies speak English, but not as their native language. They are from Bosnia. They begin speaking to each other about me . . . and my bread, in Bosnian. I don’t speak Bosnian, but I know what they are saying. As they talk, and scan and bag the bread, they shift their glances from me, to my bread, to each other and back to me again.

It’s fully appearent that they are having a great time. Again, I can’t blame them . . . I’m sure I look like a moron.

They are having so much fun, I just hate that I can’t join in on the fun with them . . . or can I?

Ok, so I’ve already mentioned that I don’t speak Bosnian. I do, however, know several Bosnian Refugees who have been kind enough to teach me a few words in their language.

At the conclusion of our transaction (and their conversation). . . I turn to both ladies and I say, “Hvala.” (which means ‘Thank you’ in Bosnian)

At first, their response was great. Excitement! Their eyes lit up as they recognized a familiar phrase. But it wasn’t the first response that I was waiting for. The first response was sweet and nostalgic. The second was born from a deeper place. It was instinctual.

The second response was . . . panic. And it was awesome!

They immediately started wondering, “How much Bosnian does this guy know?” “How much did he just hear us say?” They were quickly replaying the conversation in their minds to see what they should have edited.

I didn’t stay around for any more dialogue; I just took my bread and waved bye.

I still do not really know what they were saying, but they don’t know that. What I do know is that for many months to come . . . they were my new best friends. Every time I came into the store, they were there waiting with a smile. A nervous, “he knows what we said” smile. It was great. A friendship was born.

Life is fun.

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Life is also tough. It can be difficult. For many of us, it seems that there is some type of pain or disappointment waiting for us around one corner or the next. Even in the absence of pain and dissapointment - life, for some, is just . . . dull. Some far off type of abundant life just seems . . . out of reach.

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It is recorded that Jesus said in John 10:10 that He has come to bring us the abundant life. Is me laughing at the grocery store what He was talking about? No, but it is part of it. Life is meant to be lived . . . to the full. We have to recognize life when we see it though. We have to be willing to connect with others . . . ready to laugh. Another portion of Scripture says that we should, “Eat, Drink and Be Merry.”

Let’s do that, but let’s just not eat a full cart of bread to do it. That would be, “Eat, Drink and get Diabetes.” A friend of mine told me today that they don’t laugh as much as they used to . . . not if I can help it.

We should take advantage of the mundane. We should laugh at ourselves. We should laugh at all of the stupid things that we do each day (don’t pretend that you don’t do stupid things). We should look for every opportunity to enjoy life. Laugh...even if it’s at me.

I hope picturing me and a million loaves of bread has brought you a little happiness today. I hope you can picture the look on the faces of my “two friends”. I hope you can find a way to laugh today.

Thanks for reading. Let me know what you think - I love to hear your comments. And, oh yeah . . .

“Hvala”

JJ

The Sneeze that Changed My Life

The other day I was in the grocery store and from out of nowhere, a sneeze was fast approaching.  I was 2 feet from a half a dozen people.  I didn’t even have time to turn away.  So with no thought of my own well being and no time to think . . . I tried to hold it in.

Ok, let me just say . . . huge mistake.

Let’s look on the bright side first.  No one around me was subjected to airborne germs.  No one around me was forced into saying a polite, “Excuse you.”  No one around me went home with fears of catching a cold.  

As far as I can tell . . . that’s the end of the bright side.

Back to my mistake.

This sneeze wasn’t your ‘run of the mill’ sneeze.  This was the big one!  This was the sneeze that haunts your dreams . . . ok, so that’s a little dramatic.  No one dreams about sneezes.  But if they did - this would be the one that they’d dream of.  This sneeze was colossal.  Or, I guess it would’ve been had I let it see the light of day.

I tried to hold it in and I just about gave myself a concussion.  

Seriously, I saw spots.  How fragile am I that I’m almost assassinated by a surprise sneeze?  It combusted and rattled throughout the interior of my skull for what seemed like minutes.  It was so violent, my shoe came untied.  My watch stopped.  I’m not sure, but I think I felt it remove some memories.  Since the incident I can’t, for the life of me, remember the name of my 2nd grade teacher.  To be honest . . . I don’t remember much before the mid 90s.  I remember Jimmy Carter was president and then . . . BAM . . . Bill Clinton.  I have a vague memory of Dana Carvey doing an impression of George Bush’s dad . . . though I’m not sure what that’s all about.

I can’t help but think about what would have happened if I had just allowed myself the freedom to just . . . release the pressure.  Why worry about it?  Is protecting others worth dying over?  

I once worked with a lady who seemed to have this question answered in a way that brought her peace.  It brought her peace, yet its something that I can’t shake (talk about haunting one’s dreams).

This lady had . . . how should I say this?  She had frequent issues related to escaping gasses.  Did she try to contain her emissions?  Did she worry about what I or others would think?  No she did not.  I repeat, she did not give it a second thought!  She did not try to corral or contain what Mother Nature obviously meant for good.  She did, however, attempt to conduct herself in a kindly manner even in the face of her “situation.”

At every “occurance” she would simply pause, turn, find my eyes and say, “Pardon me.”  In fact, she would wait for as long as she needed until she found my eyes.  Hello, uncomfortable!  “What was my response?”, you may ask.  I don’t remember specifics, but it was as minimal as I could get away with.  I think there was some sort of nod of understanding, but certainly nothing verbal!  Time would pass, (then so would she) and she would say again, “Sorry about that.”  There was no fear.  No worry of judgement.  Just living the life . . . the life of freedom.  In some ways, I admire her.  And in some ways . . . well...

So - what is the moral of this story?

Well, I’ll tell you what it’s not!  It’s not to live the life of freedom.  That’s disgusting!  Seriously!  Come on!

Protect the public!  There could be innocent children about.  Whatever you do . . . keep it internal.  Sure, I’ve got to go to physical therapy after my brain sneeze, but it’s worth it.  Sure, for some reason I now seem to be left handed.  But that’s not what’s important.  Do I crave country music now for some odd reason.  Yes, I do.  But, I believe in some small way . . . I’m a hero.  Those 6 people around me shouldn’t have to be exposed to a sneeze . . . or worse.  I took one for the team.  I took one . . . (pause for impact) . . . for humanity.

What I’m trying to say is . . . I don’t want to be a part of your “Pardon Me” routine.  I’d rather you suffer in silence and me never know there was an “event” - than to look you in the eyes and wait for your apology.  I may be revealing a weakness here, but I can’t handle that.  Not anymore.  Not after what I have seen.  There are some things that you just can’t unsee.  

So let me say to you in advance . . . Bless you and Thanks for being a hero to all of us.

JJ

Polite, but Lazy

I noticed something the other day, in my behavior, that has confirmed my previous suspicions about most of us:  We are polite, but lazy.

Just hang with me and see if you won’t agree.

I was delivered the wrong mail the other day.  The mail that I received belonged to one of my neighbors.  I’m polite.  I’m a nice guy.  So with this being true, I really wanted my neighbor to receive the package that had been delivered to my house by mistake.  However, I’m not just polite...I’m lazy too.

This second characteristic means that the package sat on my porch for almost a week.  It’s not that I didn’t want my neighbor to have it . . . I just didn’t want to walk all the way over to his house to take it.  (It had been kind of cold that week)

Being polite finally won out and so I marked “Wrong Address” on the package and put it out for the mail carrier to take next door for me.  He’s going that way anyway. . . right?  When you think about it, he’s getting paid to make those deliveries, so. . . 

So, this prompted me to ask the question:  Am I the only Polite yet Lazy one or are there others?  Could there be . . . an army of us?  Could our numbers be so large that everyone would recognize these characteristics as ones that we each own?

Envision this scene with me if you will:

You are wanting to get on an elevator.  As you approach, the door begins closing.  Being polite, you hate for the others inside the elevator to have to wait for you.  But you don’t really want to wait or take the stairs (because you’re also lazy) so you throw a polite hand up as if to say, “I’ll be there in just a second.”  To further cement your polite intentions, you take a quick jog that lasts for . . . oh, I don’t know . . . 1 step.  (i.e. the same jog you take immediately after you trip as if to pretend that you didn’t)  Being lazy, however, you find that this quick 1 step jog is enough of a gesture to secure your place on that elevator.  Thankfully, others in the elevator share your lazy predisposition and see you as “Really trying to catch the elevator!”  So, they wait for you . . . because they are polite.

Why do we do the 1 step jog?  We don’t really arrive at our destination any quicker do we?  What could possibly prompt us to begin running in the middle of our day while wearing street clothes?  I think it’s because we’re polite, but also lazy.

Need more proof?

Alright - Picture this:

You are walking across the parking lot towards the entrance of your local Target, Mall, Post Office, etc.  As you are getting ready to cross the street in front of the store you see a car approaching.  You’d like to try to go ahead and go in front of the car, but because you are so polite, you don’t want the driver to have to wait for you.  Being polite, you start to jog across the street.  This pleases the driver.  You’re not wasting his time.  You are putting forth some real effort so he doesn’t have to wait.  “How polite”, he may even remark to his traveling companions as he comes to a stop in front of you.  But, alas, you are also quite lazy.  Being lazy, this jog doesn’t last long.  In fact you only jog for . . . oh, I don’t know . . . 1 step.  You certainly aren’t going to overdo it.  You’ve made the effort.  You feel that you have proven your point.  It seems like a win-win, right?

Admit it.  You are a nice person.  You’re polite.  I believe it, you believe it.  Embrace it!

And as long as we are taking an introspective look into the recesses of our souls . . . you’re lazy too, aren’t you?  Come on, you know you are.  You may get up at 5am to work out 6 days a week, but . . . when it comes down to it . . . when it really matters . . . you’re a little bit . . . 

Well, you’re lazy.  Polite, but lazy.  I believe it, you know it to be true.  Embrace it!

We the people, are Polite.  We the people, are Lazy too.

I want to thank you for reading this blog and specifically for reading this latest entry.  Being polite, you wanted to read it because you were trying to be nice to me.  Especially those of you who received the link from me.  Thanks.  I appreciate it. 

Being Lazy, you probably felt it was a bit too long.  You probably even skimmed part of it.  I bet you only skimmed for a second though, because skimming is tough. That’s ok.  I recognize your effort, albeit minimal.  

So, being polite you may forward this on to friends...or being lazy...you may just press delete.

Either way, I’d like to write more today, but . . . I’m feeling kind of lazy.

JJ