A BLOG POST ABOUT (DOING) NOTHING

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"Here is a book that you should read!" The enthusiastic recommendation came from an always smiling lady who worked at a christian bookstore in the town where we lived. Her zeal came from a place deeper than a motivation to be a good salesperson. She held it out to me lying on her open palms as she might if she had been offering a Gutenberg Bible.

The book was "Search for Significance".

Honestly I said, "Thank you Mary. I'm glad the book has meant so much to you but, for me, I'm searching for a lot things, but I don't think significance is one of those."

Honestly, I still feel like that's true for me. Then and now, I search for peace, contentment, meaningful relationships, purpose, humor, creativity, open-minded conversation, honest faith, deep personal spirituality, solitude, and slow observation.

POPS AND JEREMIAH

Slow observation? We just returned from a trip with our boys, our beautiful daughters-in-law, and the magnificent seven: Karlee, Harper, Haddi, Nora, Everly, Malachi and Jeremiah. We stayed together in a floating cabin on Lake Murray near Ardmore, Oklahoma. My role was sitting on the dock, eating no-bake cookies, drinking coffee and watching the kids fish and beg to swim in the frigid waters. I excelled in my duties.

All I had to do was buy the train tickets, rent the cabin, buy some groceries and be otherwise insignificant. It was sublime.

I have a little book where I write down words that are new to me and intriguing. There are three that seem to fit together. I've heard them all spoken among the younger, hipper crowd. Even though I'm now neither of those, I can still get on board with these: niksen, hygge, and fika.

Let's start with Niksen. It looks like it could be a phonetic guide to pronouncing the name of another former president facing a well-deserved reckoning. But no. According to an article in Time magazine: Niksen “literally means to do nothing, to be idle or doing something without any use.” Practicing niksen could be as simple as just hanging around, looking at your surroundings or listening to music — “as long as it’s without purpose, and not done in order to achieve something or be productive."

Next up: Hygge. I didn't make note of my source on this Danish word, my notes say: hygge isn’t just a word; it’s a concept, and as such, there’s really no direct translation. Hygge is about cosiness and surrounding yourself with the things that make life good, like friendship, laughter and security, as well as more concrete things like warmth, light, seasonal food and drink.

How about Fika? It’s a moment to slow down and appreciate the good things in life. From the book, Fika: The Art of the Swedish Coffee Break, “Functioning as both a verb and a noun, the concept of fika is simple. It is the moment that you take a break, often with a cup of coffee, but alternatively with tea, and find a baked good to pair with it. You can do it alone, you can do it with friends. You can do it at home, in a park or at work. But the essential thing is that you do it, that you make time to take a break: that’s what fika is all about.”

THESE DAYS I SEARCH for niksen, hygge and fika. Significance? I can take it or leave it. Now if you'll excuse me; My Amazing-Missus has made a strawberry ice cream pie. I'm going to brew a cup of dark roast and watch some Women's College World Series action.

To LOL or to COL

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As I think of our prospects for the future—Trump, Clinton, Cruz, Sanders, Rubio—my first thought is NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!

But then I remember this:

"The human race has one really effective weapon, and that is laughter." —Mark Twain

I’ve often struggled with knowing the appropriate places and times for humor. It’s sort of my go-to escape route for sad and depressing situations (like the 2016 presidential race). More than once in my life I’ve received admonishments like:

This is neither the time nor the place…
No one likes a smart aleck.
What are you, some kind of wisenheimer?

I’m not trying to say I’m funny, but sometimes I try. I want people to be happy.

I was however, recognized by my fourth grade teacher for my gift of humor, as well as my "gay outlook". She told my parents so in her letter at the end of the school year. (At the time though, I don’t remember her always appreciating my gifts.)

Speaking of politics, and sometimes having to laugh to keep from crying, Here’s a good one from comic Samantha Bee:

“Wednesday night, the Democrats met for a town hall where Bernie Sanders, dressed in what appears to be the Democratic Party’s big tent, played up his image of blustery old grandpa living off Social Security checks and stolen sugar packets.”

I refer to humor as a gift (one that I hope I have in some small measure), but I can’t find it in the Bible as a “gift”, like speaking in tongues or healing… But wait, I have been healed by humor many times; and to the humorless, bitter, mean people of the world you might as well be speaking in some unknown tongue when it comes to funny-speak.

So, where does God stand on humor? I won’t even presume. A wonderful old comic that I had the privilege of knowing was a guy named Grady Nutt. (How can you not be funny if you last name is “Nutt”. Right?) Grady observed that God must have a sense of humor. Why else would he have created us with our nose, which is prone to run, right above our mouth. And thankfully God placed it with the holes down, otherwise going for a walk in the rain could cause drowning.

“Theorists have been trying to explain humor as far back as Plato. The ancient Greek philosopher said humor got its power from the pleasure people get when they feel superior over others, laughing at their foibles and flaws. Freud saw it as a cathartic release from society’s repressions, thus explaining all our sex and fart jokes. And Hegel saw it as reconciling two normally incongruous spheres of meaning—i.e., showing a football player in a cheerleading outfit or putting a cat in human clothes.” —TheAtlantic.com

… or trying to actually picture Ted Cruz or The Donald in the Oval Office.

Please, David Letterman, come out of retirement. We need to laugh until it hurts so bad it hurts.

"USA Today has come out with a new survey - apparently, three out of every four people make up 75% of the population." --David Letterman

"I’m just trying to make a smudge on the collective unconscious." --David Letterman

Too Much Reality

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Occasionally we had vertical hold issues at our house. If you grew up in 50s and 60s as I did, the Reality of television was that it was quirky, not only problems with vertical hold, but horizontal hold too. There were little knobs you could twist that helped sometimes to slow the roll of the image on the screen. Soon or later though, the man of the house would take the pegboard cover off the back of the TV set, jerk the tubes out, and take them to the Humpty Dumpty, Piggly Wiggly, or Snap-E-Sak to “test” them. Inevitably they would have gone “bad”. Hopefully we could get the new tubes and get them inserted before “Leave It To Beaver” came on.

Sometimes the problem was a fuzzy or snowy picture. Usually a twist of the rabbit ears would fix these issues. Sometimes drastic measures were called for. More aluminum foil had to be added to the telescopic ears. As I said; that was our television reality, if not reality television.

While I’m not an avid fisherman, I do enjoy wetting a worm or flinging a fly. Especially fly-fishing, standing in a cool stream hoping to outsmart a trout. I have a friend who makes regular trips to Alaska to fish. When I see his pictures from those trips, I envy the manliness of it all. I suppose if I were to go to Alaska to fish, I would hold in high regard the endorsements of Sarah Palin regarding a good fishing guide, places to go, bait to use, etc.

I remember as a kid fishing the waters of Lincoln, Union and Ouachita Parishs in northern Louisiana with my Uncle Steve and cousin Danny Roy. My Dad’s roots are there, down the road from the Robertson's of Duck Dynasty fame. It would be fun to go backand listen to the Robertson's tell stories of fishing and hunting there. I would love to hear them swap stories with Uncle Steve. When it comes to fishing or duck hunting I can’t think of any one’s advice I would respect more than that of Phil Robertson, the patriarch of the Robertson Dynasty.

If Phil and Sarah were ever to visit Oklahoma, and want my opinion, there are a few fishing/hunting resources I could recommend to them. Probably, if I were to give them a call to let them know who I might or might not be endorsing for President they would tell me they don’t give a duck’s quack or polar bear’s ass whom I’m considering. And, to be honest, the feeling’s mutual.

Back to reality TV. How in the world have we come to the point where the most cherished endorsements for presidential candidates come from cartoonish “reality” TV stars? I am completely at peace and entertained by the relatives of these celebrities being on “Dancing With The Stars”. But something’s not right here. Maybe we need some more foil on our rabbit ears or a new vertical hold tube.

If I were going to choose a “reality” TV star to trust for a presidential endorsement, it would probably be Dale Gribble. I know, I know. Dale is just a cartoon neighbor to Hank Hill, but he is just as passionate about his worldview as are the other “reality” TV stars: Phil, Sarah and The Donald. And while Ted Cruz doesn’t have his own show, I have no doubt he would if given the opportunity. Show me a guy who will make a mockery of the U.S. Senate by standing on “the Senate Floor” for hours in a pretend filibuster, reading “Green Eggs & Ham”, and I will show you a guy begging for his own TV show.

Since Dale Gribble has not gone public with an endorsement, you might not be familiar with his views and opinions. Allow me to share a few gribbleisms:

“If all you’re goin’ on is my confession, forget it, I’m simply not credible.”
 
“That’s code for U.N. commissars telling Americans what temperature it’s gonna be in our outdoors. I say, let the world warm up! See what Boutros Boutros-By-Golly thinks about that! We’ll grow oranges in Alaska!”

“Guns don’t kill people. The government does!”
 
“If you want, I can teach you how to make a bomb out of a toilet paper roll and a stick of dynamite.”
 
“Whoa! Hold on, son! I want you to keep an open mind so you can make an informed decision! If you want, you can read a bloated government report on smoking, or go straight to the horse’s mouth and get the facts from the tobacco industry.”

“20 years. If your marriage was a murderer it would be out by now.”

“I’d like to live in your fairy-tale world, Hank, but the Fair Play For Cuba Committee is retro-fitting my mower to power Fidel’s one-man escape sub.”

“If you want to elect me, Dale Gribble, president of the Gun Club, running on the ‘Save-Your-Sorry-Ass’ platform, say aye.”

“They wanted to see me wet my pants from fear… but they’re too late!”

Amen Dale!

P.S. Maybe you’ve seen this image floating around the WWW (which of course means it could be true). Makes you wonder if Mr. Cruz has bigger heritage issues than just being born in Canada. Like Ricky used to say to Lucy back when TV wasn’t pretending to be “real”, “Someone’s got some splainin to do.”

candidate cruz and grandpa munster

candidate cruz and grandpa munster

A Little Fun With Vintage Christmas Ads

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“Really! You’re wearing that to the Pepsi party?” he thought to himself, as he smiled disdainfully.

“I sure would appreciate your vote in 1980. Love, Ronnie.”

She’s probably thinking, “He sure knows his electrical stuff!”
He’s probably thinking, “I’ll stay here until I check every bulb.”

“I’m 18, and for Christmas I got a senior ring and a Red Rider BB gun like Lil Dweeb and Lil Dweebier. What should I shoot first?”

Prancer and Santa act like this, and the other reindeer laughed and called Rudolph names?! 

I wish I could read her mind, but I’m a guy, so… A guy who once bought his Amazing-Missus a mixer for Christmas. In my defense, it was a KitchenAid Professional Stand Mixer, and she uses it lot.

No thank you. I’m on the cauliflower-pea-and-pinkish-meat-free diet.

This still doesn’t answer the big question about Santa. Boxers or briefs?