Mike McLellan's Mind

Another photo with wine glasses

2012-02-09T14:29:00.001-08:00

Almost done assembling the Christmas things

2012-02-09T14:26:00.000-08:00

A holiday poem: ‘Twas the day of Christmas and all through the home

everyone heard the curse, the moan and the groan.

It was the person chosen to weather

the instructions on how to put the new things together.

We should appreciate those who get stuck with assembling all those toys and gifts that require it.

So, your daughter received a nice little doll house in a flat box. It says “some assembly required”. The adjective is always an understatement.

“Placing piece A horizontally affix part B1 using the screws B9.” Where is your college roommate - the engineering student - when you need him?

You might be lucky and have something from Ikea. They use instructions with only pictures and no words. The words get in the way.

The things my kids received came with English instructions. Unfortunately they were written by a well-meaning Chinese technician who got a “C” in high school English class.

What does it mean? It is not nice to teach your children swear words on a sacred day.

They seem to wait patiently, smiling and knowing they had better not say a word. Yet, inside they yearn for the completion of their gift. You feel the pressure.

“Flap 2H must be folded under tab J19 before inserting plastic clip A8.”

Santa is a sadist.

When I was a kid my father got off lucky. I’d just get a lump of coal and have to deal with it myself.

Today, if the kid is good, he gets an elaborate set which takes several hours to make usable. A racetrack or even a tricycle can waste a good part of the holiday.

When the New Year comes and the toy has lost some of its luster, hardly anyone remembers the toil that went into the fabrication. We forget the work, but remember the cussing and grumbling.

In former times the construction was done prior to Christmas by the giver or the object was just a simple thing like an orange. Those of us caught up in fabrication have brought this on ourselves through creating a demand for more sophisticated toys and games.

To be honest, even our grown up toys have become more complex and each takes a new skill to master. One supposes that personal growth is not bad, but it was nice when all we had to worry about was whether or not the new pajamas fit.

If you are reading this after Christmas and things are not all put together, take a break, have an Egg Nog, and repeat the following: “The twenty bucks to put together the bike is well worth it.”

So, as the next year progresses, we would do well to start planning our future gift giving. We can keep it simple if we try. There is no need for the complex.

I have been hinting for a new Corvette for years and there is no assembly required after purchase. I shall still hint and wait. I hope it runs on coal.

The Rev. Dr. Mike McLellan does a dramatic reading

2012-01-04T16:18:00.000-08:00

Dr. McLellan does a dramatic reading of his favorite tome: "The Monster At The End of This Book" by Grover. Lucas and Chloe listen intently.

A Christmas Memoir 2011

2011-12-23T14:19:00.000-08:00

Our first Christmas was a delightful one. We had practically nothing and appreciated it all.

We were both in graduate school and had little money. We were living mostly on love and a few odd jobs. My wife did some clerking in a store. I picked peaches, painted houses and taught at a local high school part-time. We managed our apartment house in exchange for rent.

Adding it up, we were poor, but we did not know it. It was neither an object of self-depreciation nor pride.

We were able to buy a Christmas tree our first year. It was short, but well-shaped. We decorated it with handmade paper ornaments and a string of lights. We crowned the tree with a dove left over from the decorations at our wedding.

The material things we exchanged that year are long forgotten, but we remember the day as if it were yesterday.

As time went on, our family grew along with our wants and needs. We waited in line for two Cabbage Patch Kids. We made long lists of things to do and buy. I built two dollhouses in my workshop. My wife took the handwritten want lists to the stores.

In 2005 I spent Christmas in Stanford Hospital. We exchanged gifts as I lay in bed. That year I received a plastic vascular graft in my chest. It was not my favorite gift.

Over the next half decade I relearned about what a difference other people’s concern can mean.

Last year, 2010, I spent part of the week before Christmas in the hospital in Portland. My kidneys had failed from being over medicated. I don’t remember last Christmas much.

It is interesting how priorities change. The biggest gifts are not under the tree and the one most remembered may be the least tangible.

Most of us have all we need in the way of things. We might need a little more conscience, appreciation, and generosity. Those latter virtues may best be acquired through experience. They don’t sell them at Neiman Marcus or Wal-Mart.

We may wish to teach our children to be more giving and less greedy, more thankful and less tightfisted, but it is difficult to do in the middle of a season where our nation’s financial health depends on our spending.

We do not long for the good-old-days because, for the most part, they were not always good. We do, however, remind ourselves that our happiness has never been based on what we get. Our happiness has been based on being grateful for what we’ve got.

It is important that our economy rebound and that those who do not have the necessities of life are cared for. It is each of our responsibilities to reach out to those in need. We don’t do it out of guilt, but out of gratitude.

My personal plan is to stay out of the hospital this Christmas unless it is for visiting someone else. As well, I plan on making sure that people know that it takes very little to bring holiday joy. At Christmas, as in art, less is more.

We will hang up our stockings side by side for the 46^th time this year. On Christmas morning we will walk, not run, to see what is there.

Over coffee and scones we will thank one another for thoughtfulness. Mostly we will remember to be grateful for another Christmas with our family and friends.

They didn’t come from Neiman Marcus or Wal-Mart either.

The Rev. Dr. McLellan reads "Froggy's Christmas"

2011-12-22T10:41:00.000-08:00

Six years of columns

2011-12-14T11:40:00.000-08:00

As if anyone cares... you can call up six years of columns by going on www.Tracypress.com click on articles, type mike mclellan and there you are...

Tilted Windmills: Thankful for the little things

2011-12-07T13:04:00.000-08:00

by Mike McLellan / For the Tracy Press

The Thanksgiving holiday is a time to stop and contemplate the things that are blessings in our lives.

This, year let us pay homage to some wonderful inventions that have made our lives better, healthier and more lasting.

While cell phones and computers are still iffy as to their lasting impact and value, our goal should be to focus on the basics.

First, let us be thankful for toothpicks. The toothpick is a wonderful tool. Using this simple instrument, you can clean Velcro and make it work good as new. The toothpick, besides getting spinach from your teeth and holding sandwiches together, will act as a temporary replacement if you lose the screw from your sunglasses. We can be truly grateful for these simple pieces of white oak.

While we all know the benefits of duct tape, we could be far more grateful for vinegar. Vinegar is an all-purpose, environmentally friendly cleaner. It does windows, coffeepots and dishes.

Deck screws are overlooked in this electronic age, but they have revolutionized carpentry.

Plastic bags may take years to decompose and often litter the landscape. However, they cannot be beaten for cleaning up after your dog. It is not much fun without one.

Cheese is another one of those things that’s taken for granted. Cheese made it possible for Hannibal to carry his lunch when he crossed the Alps. And cheese makes pizza what it is supposed to be — a pizza without cheese is just a very large English muffin.

We rarely express our gratitude to our mailbox. While a postal carrier comes six days a week, not stayed by snow nor rain nor heat nor gloom of night, your mailbox stands out in the weather all day and all night, waiting to be filled or emptied. It is the Rodney Dangerfield of our homes.

One more something that makes a quiet, but meaningful, contribution to our lives is our bathroom scale. Sure, we have a love-and-hate relationship with it, but that is because it is our conscience. It tattles on our excesses and points to our shortcomings. Without it, however, many of us would be more portly than we already are. (Although Thanksgiving is a day to give your scale a rest.)

We ought to be more grateful for the everyday, the common and the mundane. These are things that impact us most. So why not spend some time this holiday weekend pondering some of the blessings that are found in the everyday things around us that mean so much?

You can come up with many examples. But don’t forget the people around you, the generosity of others and good things we often overlook.

Next project: to take some vinegar and polish up the old mailbox in time for the Christmas cards.

Tilted Windmills: Already burned out by campaign fever

2011-12-07T13:01:00.000-08:00

EFS stands for the common malady of Election Fatigue Syndrome. Some of us have the 2012 strain already.

Marketing Christmas just after Labor Day is tiresome. Even worse, however, we have started marketing candidates more than a year in advance.

At one time, we were subjected to political campaigns for a few months. But now, electioneering never seems to end. Some of us were already tired of it last September, and it is growing worse. Can you imagine what it is going to be like a year from now?

Election fatigue is real.

The candidates for President of the United States have already been sparring for months. He said. She said. He is bad. She is bad. He is an illegal alien. He is a bigot.

Interesting, too, is the possibility that those who started campaigning early are beating one another up so badly they are likely to knock one another out. The winner may turn out to be the person who keeps the lowest profile until close to the election. (I’m waiting until October 2012 to declare.)

In this day when so many people are cynical about politicians and do not trust government, folks would rather not hear from them. It would be better — it seems to some — if there were more light and less noise coming from those we have elected. Most of the folks at coffee along 10th Street are of the mind that there is too much smoke being blown.

Rather than carping about the political climate, there are those of us who would prefer to talk about something else — like gallstones or our lumbago. Or, let’s discuss the merits of merlot over pinot noir. We will hear enough about how bad the Republicans and Democrats are later.

We will also learn, no doubt, about all the warts and blemishes of our local candidates, too.

But this far out from Election Day, it would be more fun to think about the London Olympics, which will likely be less competitive.

Maybe our EFS springs from flashbacks to the last major election and the dread felt in what is to come. Maybe EFS is a product of the fact that, while we once had to read the candidates’ own words, we now get them in Tweets, emails and sound bites. We are on aspirant overload.

Personally, I need to get through Christmas and a few other holidays before I can start thinking about who to vote against.

This early declaring does, I suppose, give us a chance to see how many things these candidates have done to screw up. Yet, there is usually enough time for that within a couple of months of the election. (My first trip to the polls was when Barry Goldwater ran against Lyndon Johnson, so I am seasoned.)

One thing learned over these decades is that almost all the people who run for office are not as good as they claim, nor as bad as their competitors say they are.

More Fused Glass by Mike

2011-12-01T16:57:00.000-08:00

New Glass Project

2011-11-27T19:26:00.000-08:00

Duncan McLellan

2011-11-08T16:09:00.000-08:00

Support your local animal rescue. Duncan adopted us there and we are glad he did.

Mike makes theological statement

2011-11-01T10:34:00.001-07:00

The Rev. Dr. Mike McLellan tying a knot.

2011-10-23T13:29:00.000-07:00

The eyes have it

2011-10-22T10:21:00.000-07:00

Indeed, many of us qualify as “four-eyed,” a mild epithet hurled at people who wear glasses.

It is because of visual impairment we are organizing a worldwide movement to end eyeglass discrimination. Some of us cannot use contacts or afford Lasik surgery, and thus struggle day by day with metal and plastic fastened on our faces.

People with perfect vision do not know the woes of those who wear spectacles.

It has been proposed that people wearing glasses be allowed to use handicapped parking when it is raining. The run through the parking lot on a rainy day either has to be done with wet lenses or with glasses in your pocket. Either way you cannot see your destination. It can be quite dangerous.

Even the Department of Motor Vehicles makes a point of noting sight deficiency on licenses. “Must wear corrective lenses” is the scarlet letter of the automobile age.

There is also physical pain associated with this limitation. The funny little pads dig into your nose. The earpieces hurt your ears. The obvious lack of perfect vision hurts your self-image.

Some of us consider eyeglasses jewelry for the face. They are actually helpful for disguising the bags under a person’s eyes and graying of their eyebrows.

It is debatable which is worse: to be discriminated against because of glasses or because of dark circles under your eyes.

Seeing is important for most activities in life. There many poems about the beauty all around us, and it takes the ability to see to enjoy it. Visual aids are a perfect example of crutches that make a full life possible.

Some of us were born with astigmatism, which means we literally cannot see straight.

I was 20 years old before having a complete eye test. I was told that my sight was not the best, so I went to an optometrist, who confirmed it.

When I first got glasses, I was overwhelmed to discover that people actually saw leaves on trees and could read street signs. As I was always the biggest kid in class, I was stuck near the back of the room and rarely saw the blackboard. I’d like to blame my inability to spell on this.

It is gratifying to see the change in a child when they finally get the glasses they need. They walk around in a new and wonderful world amazed and delighted by the sights.

People born with perfect vision may never see what those of us needing eyewear can see.

• Mike McLellan can be contacted by calling and leaving a message at 830-4231 or e-mailing him at DrMikeM@sbcglobal.net.

Read more: Tracy Press - Tilted Windmills Let us lift our glasses

Marietta's dish with pears

2011-10-01T10:43:00.000-07:00

A column on waiting...

2011-09-25T17:53:00.000-07:00

http://www.tracypress.com/view/full_story/15637976/article-Tilted-Windmills--Waiting-is-an-opportunity--not-a-punishment?instance=home_opinion_lead_story

"Ozone Layer" -a fused glass plate

2011-09-22T17:33:00.000-07:00

by Mike McLellan

Went to reunion

2011-09-22T17:31:00.000-07:00

Reunion - two hundred strangers that look familiar.

The Rev. Dr. Mike McLellan at Speaker's Corner, Hyde Park

2011-09-14T17:02:00.000-07:00

Standing on the table on Sunday at Speaker's Corner, Hyde Park, London - The Rev, Dr. R. Michael McLellan delivers an address. It was his e-mail address.

Report cannot be right...

2011-09-13T17:37:00.000-07:00

I did not watch the Tea Party/Republican debate last evening, but watched parts in repeat. I cannot believe that the party of Lincoln, Eisenhower and my father would let people die who do not have health insurance. Ron Paul says let the churches pay for them -- the churches have tried. but they cannot. Ask members of the tea party if they all give 10 percent of their income to the church and other charities.

By the way, the column below is not about the Tea Party... it is about all of us.

Child tipping

2011-09-12T15:23:00.001-07:00

The growth of the Me Party

2011-09-09T16:55:00.000-07:00

There is a new political movement gaining wide acceptance in our country. It is the Me Party.

Perhaps you have not heard of it, but certainly you intuitively know all about it.

The Me Party’s platform is simple: “To hell with everyone else, it is all about me.”

The Me Party is against it. Whatever it is, they don’t want it. This is, unless they thought of it. Then you better like it, or you are bad, illegitimate, fascist or communist.

They do not accept other people’s ideas, even if they’re good. If anyone else has a great idea, it must be flawed, or else they would have thought of it. Their ideas are what count.

The party is made up of members of all parties, splinter groups and political movements. It has been especially attractive to those in our nation who feel entitled, superior and always right.

We have already seen the power that such egocentrism has fostered, as we have watched the Me Philosophies of any number of leaders of the Middle East, Cuba and even Louisiana during the 1930s.

This wonderfully simple movement is sweeping our great land because it plays to the core beliefs of so many. We each know we are special. Our parents told us so by defending any and all of our behaviors before teachers, irate storekeepers and the police.

We are unique and endowed with certain inalienable rights, not the least of which is getting our own way.

People who place “me” first often forget the “we” of the Constitution, along with the idea of a more perfect union. But that is an archaic belief. To them, United is just an airline that should be regulated as they wish — or not regulated at all.

Of course, the Me Party has an inherent problem. It is hard to develop a group from individuals focused only on their own lives in isolation. Cooperation requires people who are willing to compromise and be open to one another. This is difficult if everyone is self-centered.

It is, however, the logical extension of the Me Generation.

These problems could be overcome by focusing on a common enemy, real or imagined. For the Me Party, it would be “them.” We, according to the Me Party credo, are not in this together. It is them against me. We all know them and what they stand for. They believe in everything that we do not. They are led by people unlike us. They are different, and we can tell you how.

Under this philosophy, the United States’ self-image of being a melting pot will be no more. Who needs it?

The end result may be to have 200 million individual Me Parties, rather than just a few old-fashioned political parties. We can make this up as we go along.

Each of us will have our own mascot. As the elephant and donkey have been taken, each of us may simply have a logo containing a lone wolf.

Granted, this lacks continuity and organization, but it does so without any bureaucrats — except for each of us, in our own way, running our own country in our own way.

It may succeed. We all seem to agree that what we have now is not working.

My current fear

2011-08-30T11:06:00.000-07:00

Many of us have anxieties. Mine, like everyone else's, come and go. Right now I worry most that a new cell phone system will come out (Apple is on the move again.) I have just now figured out my Smart Phone -- or at least enough of it to use it. I know that this personal progress will be short lived. Surely catching up means that soon I'll be behind... or already am.

We may have caught it from the British...

2011-08-23T16:16:00.000-07:00

The goal for this blog was to have a chuckle or two over the crazy British and their dysfunctional House of Commons.

The members of Parliament, separated only by the length of two swords, yell, catcall and act like juveniles toward one another.

Those of us with Anglo-Saxon roots have a soft spot for Scotland, England and Northern Ireland (as well as the Irish Republic.) All of this yields an interest in such things as the Royal wedding, “The King’s Speech,” Agatha Christie mysteries and kippers.

However, even though we are growing to appreciate their brand of football, we know that the real national sport of the UK is politics. It is much more heady and violent than what we call soccer.

Many of us can be accused of being Anglophiles, enamored of the United Kingdom. There is no wondering why.

There is something interesting about countries that have periodically been destroyed, overrun and generally savaged for generations. The Celts, the Romans, the Normans, the Nazis and others have picked on those relatively small islands.

However, the most damage has been done by themselves to themselves.

It is easy to see why these people are stoic, in control of their emotions and love their alcohol.

But, as with most nations, the greatest enemy has been their own sense of superiority as individuals and as a group.

It is no longer funny.

And like mad cow disease, rude politics have crossed the pond.

Our government has now been able to mimic Britain’s ability to wound their nation in the name of sophisticated debate.

The current United States Congress seems akin to the parliaments of the United Kingdom. It is held together by its members’ xenophobic dislike for other nations that is only slightly greater than their dislike of one another.

Trade the names of the parties from Tory, Conservative and Labor to Democratic, Republican and Tea. You have much the same chaos, but without the mutual respect.

The English are often amused and embarrassed by the rancor of the House of Commons. But our Congress may have been able to surpass any rancor records of our motherland.

Some have long wondered how the United Kingdom stayed united in the face of its political lack of discipline and good manners.

The hope is we Yanks can learn to do what they have learned. They have mastered the art of being humbly brutal. They are eloquently mean and wonderfully forgiving.

It seems our folks in Washington, D.C., have only mastered the brutal and mean parts. Can we wish for the forgiving?

Rupert Murdock and the hundreds of other publishers in Britain love the sensational and marginally accurate about their government. But their news is not any stranger than our own.

Sarah Lyall, in her book “The Anglo Files,” writes about how dysfunctional the British government is as it struggles without a constitution. It is truly odd that they could have lasted so long without one — or how we have lasted so long with one.

Read more: Tracy Press - Tilted Windmills Why can’t we just get along

Try this... Mike

2011-08-14T17:58:00.001-07:00

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sAVn0bIlxEQ

Senator Mark Hatfield

2011-08-08T09:21:00.000-07:00

When I was in High School and the university I was hopeful that Hatfield would run for President or be selected as Vice President. He was a statesman and gentleman.
When I lived in Oregon during the 80's, I received a call that the Senator wanted to meet with me and other "leaders" of the town in which I served. He was everything I had believed and I told him so.

Nice man as well as an outstanding public servant.

I know he has been ill for some time and it was obviously his time to go, but I will miss the fact that there was at least one person that knew that party was not as important as the people.

Would you buy a used car from this man?

2011-07-26T18:38:00.001-07:00

Miss the smell of talc and rosewater?

2011-07-26T15:36:00.000-07:00

A rite of passage for many children is their first haircut.

It may seem to them that part of their body has been snipped and left on the floor. It is also difficult at any age to sit still while someone comes at you with a pair of scissors.

A century ago, many a male child did not receive a haircut until they were ready to go to school. Their hair was left to grow long and made to curl and often they looked like Little Lord Fauntleroy of Frances Hodgson Burnett’s writing. I once found a picture of my father as a child and figured it was just an ugly aunt until he explained it.

For some of us, the haircut has now become a regular chore which we do to make sure we are not mistaken for Big Foot. Even so, we make the best of it by having a brief social experience with people needing a cleanup like us.

In my crew cut days, my dad and I would go to the barbershop together on Saturday morning. It was a social event, male bonding, and a time of gossip.

Today I go off to what would look to be a beauty parlor to my father. There are, however, no huge hair dryers or the smell of permanents past. It is just a room ringed by chairs with a barber stationed at each. Unlike the old days, the barbers are women. I give my name, wait five or so minutes and get called to take a seat at a station.

The barber then does something unheard of in days gone by. She asks me how I want my hair cut. If I knew what I wanted I would cut it myself at home. Although I tried that once and the only thing worse is the time I tried to cut my wife’s hair. (We were both in graduate school, without much money and it has grown into a family legend.)

So, I get to choose the size of the clipper. Do I want a two, three, four or five? Now, it might seem that a five was better than a three, but a three will make my haircut last four weeks whereas a five will bring me back tomorrow.

She sets to work.

I miss going to Hank Granados, whom Sam Matthews called the “breezy barber of ‘B’ Street”. A haircut could take several hours, cost a bit more but the entertainment value was priceless.

The barber I went to today took less than ten minutes, and I did not get caught up on any local news. She moved quickly, silently

I still get my money’s worth at the barber shop. I still have a full head of hair, although the individual strands are very fine from a medication I take. Fine hair calls for more hairspray or gel. I have switched to a gel the consistency of lard only clear. It is made from a huge list of unknown chemicals. It does not have an FDA warning label, so it must be safe.

A good friend saves money on gel, shampoo, conditioner, and haircuts. He has chosen to shave off what little hair he has. His only costs are for sun block. But, he misses out on that regular trek to the shrine of Sampson.

In all of this there is something I miss. Things go so fast that I cannot read a magazine while I wait. That is because I don’t really wait.

I am way behind on “Field and Stream.”

50th Class Reunion To go or not to go...

2011-07-16T13:13:00.000-07:00

Nothing is more fun than getting together with a group of old people.

It is that time of year again when high school classes deem it necessary to compare how far each former student has come. It is now time for class reunions. For me it will be 50 years which I know you cannot imagine as I do not look a day over 45.

Reunions are gala events where people who have not seen one another for years remember events that may not have happened. They keep looking at one another as if to see if they recognize the eighteen year old behind the wrinkles.

Each person leaves saying: “I may be old, but I did better than he did.”

For example, I am the same age as famed Rolling Stones guitarist Keith Richards. I may not be as rich as Keith but I think I aged better. I will not push comparisons as Sir Paul McCartney is one year older than both of us.

At these reunions people seek to deny the law of gravity. They walk as upright as possiblel with stomachs sucked in. Yet, their jowls give them away. Let us be honest, dewlaps are not pretty even if well earned.

Hair is another issue. Some dye their hair and some have none to dye.

My era was the age of Sandra Dee and Grease. Most of my peers believed the more hair the better, although the more rebellious males wore a flat top or crew cut. Short hair was a statement of independence and defiance.

Such was the McClatchy High class of 1961 in Sacramento, California. Each graduate aspired to greatness, grand successes and had wonderful dreams. Most of us did surprisingly better than our teachers expected. It was, as all classes are, above average. We listened to the commencement speaker as he declared that the future lies ahead and that we were beginning a great adventure, just like everyone before us and since.

There are several school superintendents and a host of teachers among the graduates. There are retired military officers, state workers, medical folks, artists, entertainers and college professors. Included are those who raised children and kept homes going. There was at least one member of congress and a member of the clergy.

As with any group of people that age there are some who are missing. Some of them died in Viet Nam, or through disease or accident. In that regard there is some sadness.

Many of those coming to the reunion are now called “grandma” or “grandpa”. They went from being students to graduates to employees, parents, grandparents and finally to retirees.

The startling thing is that the beautiful and attractive students now all look like their parents did. This is not surprising, but unwanted. Their parents were not that bad, but they were – how does one say it – parents. No one wanted to grow up to be their parents. That was just not cool.

We were very cool in 1961 and fairly cool today. We are just not hot, if you get my drift.

Being older is not an unhealthy thing. It is just that at 18 you never think you will be 68 some day. Somehow you think you will be young forever.

At a fiftieth reunion there is less stretching the truth and more gratitude than at 20, 30 or 40 years. You have less to hide and don’t care much what others think.

One thing still disturbs you though and that is how that kid you had the crush on gained all that weight and all those age spots.

Published July 15, 2011 The Tracy Press

Latest Fused Glass Projects

2011-07-13T12:02:00.000-07:00

Is this man from Halliburton still running America?

2011-07-10T18:25:00.000-07:00

Flowers: St. Stephan's Green, Dublin Ireland

2011-07-03T17:38:00.001-07:00

Dorm door at Trinity College, Dublin

2011-06-29T18:46:00.000-07:00

Red Bench

2011-06-21T09:35:00.000-07:00

Life is heating up

2011-06-15T15:46:00.000-07:00

We all have been confused by this year's weather. Some of us complained about the cold, damp Spring. Well, summer is only few days away and folks are now complaining about the heat. I'm for discussing the weather. It beats debating budgets, poltical candidates and the Tea Party. To be honest, I am sick of politics in America on all levels. It was once a noble struggle to do what is best for the people and now seems to be a fight to see who wins. When one person or party wins we all seem to lose. Will be checking back on this. Hope it gets better. So wasn't today nice and warm?

The Royal Wedding

2011-06-08T17:13:00.000-07:00

Please do not tell anyone, but I watched the royal wedding.

Now that the honeymoon is over, I can come clean.

It was not early in the morning, rather later in the day during the reruns. The Duke and Duchess of Cambridge made a handsome and surprisingly relaxed couple.

There was a good deal of talk about her dress which seemed to be the star of the event. Some of us who do not know one fabric from another were more excited about the Aston-Martin convertible.

These things were not why I watched the wedding. I wanted to see how they decorated Westminster Abbey. On television it looked tidier than when I was last there. It can be fairly dusty with all those tombs and tourists.

I also wanted to watch the ministers at work. It seems surprising that two billion people would tune in to hear a wedding sermon, although the music was grand. Actually there have been better sermons delivered, most of which only drew a crowd of a hundred or so faithful souls.

Not as large and not as crowded, I prefer St. Martin in the Fields at Trafalgar. They do things right very Sunday and are very welcoming, hat or no hat.

In all, it was a nice wedding albeit more expensive than necessary. Some of us believe in keeping wedding costs down. It is not what you spend that determines how long it lasts.

Personally, we had 200 guests and spent $700 and it has lasted 44 years so far. Ours was a good investment. We are still using the Pyrex bowls and fondue set we got.

Back to the ministers and their finely done robes and modulated voices. It may be professional jealousy, but they did not seem to be having much fun. Marriage is a serious business, but weddings are occasions for a more relaxed happiness.

William’s whispered comment about a small intimate wedding plan that got out of hand is about true for most nuptials. Just a few friends can mushroom into a bunch and light refreshments grow into a full meal. A few pictures are soon an album and a spot of champagne morphs into a full bar.

When my daughters got married, they did not have to pay the preacher, but the pastor’s honorarium is a pittance compared to the cost of flowers. I will say that my daughters used planning to get the most from their budgets. Neither of them borrowed my wife’s tiara, by the way.

I like weddings almost as much as I like funerals. While funerals are usually sadder they do have a more lasting impact.

Will and Kate did it up royal and as far as I could tell, none of the clergy messed up much. The best man and maid of honor did things right and the children did well. Children in a wedding party give pastors an anxiety solved only by the recessional.

I also noticed that folks seem to be warming up to Camilla. Before she and Prince Charles got married she was known as “that woman” in much of the UK. Weddings seem to be more inclusive and make folks willing to accept “in-laws” as part of the family.

All-in-all it was a treat to have some good news to celebrate although it was short lived what with natural and political violence coming on its heels. Besides most of us believe that the wedding really happened and for the right reasons. There is photographic proof on the covers of most supermarket checkout magazines along with rumors that something must be wrong with such happiness.

As for most of us, we wish the couple the very best.

Trouble with blogger

2011-06-04T15:31:00.000-07:00

Having trouble posting. Have seven or eight posts in draft but cannot pull up. Will keep on trying.

Tulip Farm

2011-06-04T13:03:00.000-07:00

Tulips

2011-06-04T12:50:00.000-07:00

From farm near Woodburn Oregon.

My Birthday surprise

2011-05-29T17:48:00.000-07:00

Picture appeared in Tracy Press

after hail storm on May 16.

Not sure we can do it, but here is the destination

2011-05-01T19:23:00.000-07:00

Starting to plan a trip

2011-04-30T17:09:00.001-07:00

This is a small glimpse of the Dolomites in Southern Italy and Austria. I have wanted to visit there but my heath problems have hindered planning. If we can find a way to book B and B's with lifts or ground floor rooms and ways of lugging luggage, we will do it this fall or maybe next Spring. I have been at the gym preparing for it and am making good headway.

And they will be called the Prince of Peace...

2011-04-03T16:14:00.000-07:00

Terry Jones hates Muslims. Fred Phelps hates gays. Adolph Hitler hated the Jews. All this done in the name of a loving Christian God. Lots of evil done in the name of God on all sides. Sorry, but that is not the God of the Scripture. God does not hate. God is love.

Been a while

2011-03-24T21:32:00.000-07:00

One thing that comes from blogging is understanding that the less you have to do the more you write. These last weeks have been busy ones. But, like the Tin Man I have rusted to a halt in this rain. I have chronic muscle and joint pain and humid, cold weather does me in. I worked out at the gym the first four days this week and spent the last two days cleaning my study. Well, I should be a regular at this blogging business the next days as I can hardly move. No sympathy, however, I am in the process of organizing a "Survival" party celebrating the fact that I made it another year. It has not been easy, but I think I'll make it. The party is a thank you to all who supported me so I actually can have a next birthday.

Wisconsin

2011-03-04T16:01:00.000-08:00

The people of Wisconsin now disapprove of Governor Walker. Most are embarrassed by his actions. There is one word that can solve this: "Recall".

Huckabee and Sheen the new Huntley and Brinkley

2011-03-04T15:29:00.000-08:00

Mike Huckabee and Charlie Sheen will now be the co-anchors of the evening news on Fox. As always, the network promises to be fair and balanced. Huckabee's nationality is not in question as he is a native of Arkansas, known to all as the state hardest to integrate. He is rumored to be the love child of Fred Phelps and Lady Gaga. Huckabee has a clear understanding of the news as he reads it in the leaves of whatever he is smoking. Charlie Sheen balances this by not reading or watching the news. His sole grasp of daily news coming from his experience with bright, young women who free base often. Due to their conditions, the evening news will be broadcast about 11 am.

Idea for TV Show...

2011-02-27T19:04:00.000-08:00

All I need is two guys who like to punch eachother. We can make millions. Also, need to come up with catchy name like "The Marx Brothers" or something.

Email me if you have an idea. Thanks - Mike

From the Post Office Wall

2011-02-26T21:07:00.000-08:00

This man is UNWANTED IN ALL 50 STATES.

This picture comes before he started eating only junk food and taking illegal drugs.

While incredibly bogus, he has learned how to build a following and provide advertisers with a major bang for the buck.

No one can accuse him of not being smart.

Life in Sunny California

2011-02-26T20:22:00.000-08:00

California is not a state, it is a state of mind.

When traveling out of the United States, people sense we are either American or from Canada. They pretty much they like Canadians and we tried to fake that a couple of times until our world hopping daughters suggested we tell the truth. We are from California!

Some people may not cozy up to an American, but they are thrilled to talk about California especially it they have been here. Tracy, California is in the middle of Yosemite-San Francisco-and-Sacramento triangle. It is close to the mountains. beach and in the great valley of California. Two hours from the Napa area and separated from Los Angeles by a long distance, it has a good deal to talk about. And, yes, we lived in Long Beach for seven years and can speak Disneyland.

California --or at least here-- has been sunny, but below freezing at night. All-in-all the weather beats that of Chicago. I like Chicago, but alas I am a Californian.

The Band Boosters Flocked us again!

2011-02-18T18:58:00.000-08:00

I gave this week away

2011-02-18T18:48:00.000-08:00

In our community when they list me on a Board of Directors or on letterhead, my title is "community volunteer". At one time it was pastor and sometimes mentions an award or degree, but I really like being a community volunteer.

I gave this week away to "Expressions" the community's juried art show. I am working with kids. We volunteered as ushers and docents at The Grand Theatre for the Performing Arts twice and have one more this weekend. Good stuff.

By the way, I sold my fifth piece of art glass that I created. I guess I'm an artist.

Two support groups, one Rotary Meeting and a Board meeting filled out the week.

It is great to give your life away.

Well...

2011-02-09T19:05:00.000-08:00

...they have sent me home with a reasonable diagnosis. I am doing much better and back to physical exercise. I have missed the gym. Am back to volunteering, making fused glass, Rotary, and the newspaper. I am down to the weight I was when I graduated from college. I feel lots better. To the bunch who prayed for me -- thanks. And, to those who didn't -- you lose this round. To my wife of nearly 44 years, more than thanks. Love goes the extra mile.

Long time, no write

2011-01-08T13:30:00.000-08:00

I have been through a bunch of medical tests these last months. I have also been hospitalized twice: once for a heart catherization and another for renal failure. The medical school and research hospital where I am currently being treated is composed of doctors who so far think I have had too many doctors in the past.

The Hippocratic oath begins with, "Do no harm."

On Monday a blood specialist did a 6 hour work up on me. She began by saying that all my symptoms pointed to "Multiple Myeloma" a cancer of the bone. Talk about panic attacks... She wanted to rule it out before moving on. She did not give me anything but a follow-up phone call saying that all tests were negative for cancer. That was a major lift.

We are getting closer to an answer as I am feeling better. Keep those phone calls coming in...

Thanksgiving for the little things

2010-11-28T14:21:00.000-08:00

Tilted Windmills
Mike McLellan
Publication Date: November 25, 2010

Title: Thanksgiving for the little things

Can you imagine a holiday where you celebrate through an experience of gluttony? This has the church’s official permission to commit one of Augustine’s Seven Deadly Sins.
Being an obese child, Thanksgiving was always my favorite holiday.
There was no work, eating, watching a parade on TV, eating, watching a football game, and eating. The best part was it was encouraged by my parents.
My mother did all of the work and seemed to enjoy it. My role, and the role of all the men in my family, was to stay out of the kitchen and make a large show of appreciation.
Today, I still mostly watch although I get to choose the wine. Living in Tracy with its wineries I can tell the difference between red, white and Ripple.
I also am in charge of carving the turkey and saying grace. As the patriarch I get the pleasure of both. That and the fact that I worked in a butcher shop as a teenager and have been a pastor for 41 years.
Carving the turkey is easy, although I do feel guilty that the bird had to die so we might get a major dose of L-tryptophan.
The secret to carving the turkey is to act like you know what you are doing. Hardly anyone else there will know how to do it. As it only happens once a year, they will not remember how well or badly you have done, especially after they are full of it and wine.
Saying grace is more difficult. People are anxious to eat and you still wish to express gratitude for the food, the family, and the harvest.
One year they asked me to say grace and I begged off. The role fell to a rather elderly missionary who had been saving up for quite a long time. She was thankful for the food, the weather, the cooks, the individual vegetables, and on and on.
I accept the assignment with little complaint now.
Come to think about it, I am thankful for all those things and more. I am grateful for being here, for those who have made my life interesting and better. I am glad that we have the ability to sit down and freely gather around the pile of food.
Admittedly I am not excited about the fact that the Christmas season started this year on Labor Day, but I’m looking forward to celebrating it eventually.
So here is to being asked to be with family, to having enough to eat, and for red wine, white wine and Ripple.

Fish'n with grandpa

2010-11-22T18:49:00.000-08:00

Guess who caught two

and who

got skunked....

Nice Place

2010-11-19T17:45:00.000-08:00

Gratitude and Thanksgiving

2010-11-15T11:59:00.000-08:00

In the last few years I have learned the meaning of “Thanksgiving” and gratitude.
It was only six years ago that all I was worried about was my immediate death. Today things are worse.
There is global warming, a great recession, national unemployment and my Individual Retirement Account tanked. I have learned that peanut butter can poison you and Michael Vink is out of jail.
If that was not enough to worry about, add the possibility that a rogue satellite can crash through our roof at any second and there will be little salmon available in the market.
We can remember when it was “just whistle a happy tune” or by shaking hands with a chimney sweep everything would be fine. That was in the movies and before congress became a golden gloves boxing ring.
What are we to do?
There are medications that will solve all of our problems. All we have to do is ask our doctor. However, the fine print notes that people have died while getting well.
It is hard being Norman Vincent Peale in the middle of a cyclone, but we try.
People accuse me of being an optimist. Yes, it is an accusation. They say I not in tune with reality. I’m too positive.
There are some things that make life rosier. There are my grandchildren who have not learned the world’s problems.
There are the folks sitting by the door at the nursing home who are happy to see me just because I walked in. There is that nice lady who doesn’t remember where she is but is glad I’m there too.
So, I got on the computer and did an Excell balance sheet and conclude that things are better than we first thought. There is a possible cure for the common cold, and we can afford to go out to eat on Friday.
Don’t let the statistics drag you down.

Work as sacred...

2010-11-08T09:02:00.000-08:00

In a profession you “are” what you do. You are a “doctor”, “lawyer”, “teacher”, “pastor” or “pharmacist”. These are identities as well as occupations. You do them because it is part of your person, not just a means for a pay check.
The above list is not complete. I know people who feel the same way about their work in corporations.
Philosophers and theologians have defined this attitude toward work as a “calling”. Some people were created –called-- to be great shoemakers or gardeners. They take their work on as a trust. They find fulfillment through doing their best. It is somewhat of a sacred act.

This is worth your time! YouTube...thanks Everett

2010-11-05T10:34:00.000-07:00

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=k26nt3Y4cmg&feature=related

You've got to have heart

2010-10-31T15:56:00.000-07:00

I have had vascular problems for many years. Six years ago these problems sent me to the CCU/ICU at Stanford Medical Center. Since then I have been waiting for "what's next". I discovered that a couple of months ago when I learned that my back and arm pain is actually angina from spasms in my coronary arteries. For those who think I'm heartless, I have photos to prove otherwise.

This is all very inconvenient as we were just in the process of starting our overseas travels. We made it across the Atlantic twice even with the issues with my legs.

Now, we would like to note that many countries have excellent medical services and I would rather burn out than rust out. I would like to live to at least 90, but then again, if something happens next year they will ship me back from Italy.

This is just to say that I am not going to let anything get in the way of life and I hope everyone supports me in this. If not, may you worry for nothing.

Christmas Letter

2010-10-26T09:52:00.000-07:00

I serious do not think anyone reads our Christmas letters, but I always start writing one about this time in the year. My deadline is right after Thanksgiving so I can get it in the mail. I write them to remind me what our year was like and try to stay positive without bragging. "My son was student of the month at Folson Prison for the third month in a row," does not seem as good when typed on paper.

We did not do as many special things this year, but I'm not sure people want to hear that we, in the middle of a recession, took a trip to the South of France. They'd be satisified with a brief recounting of my hernia surgery.

I turn to my family for suggestions and they don't have any until I resubmit it for proof reading. They then know what I left out. This is an annual ritual which helps me to know what is important to them.

So, I begin the project today. Already forgotten is the most important thing. That may be he fact that we had another year together.

Discommunication

2010-10-23T09:53:00.000-07:00

Went over to trade in the new phone for something more simple. Process of "money back if not satisfied" as difficult as the phone. In general they let me know how to turn it on and a couple of more things. They promised to tutor me as time goes on. I have been tutored by others and this fool proof device is not superior to the fool trying to use it. I'm working on it, but long for the days of my Motorola clam shell. It never let me down.

The Droid Blues

2010-10-21T14:21:00.000-07:00

OK, I am very close to using my "60 days of satisfaction or your money back." I was not getting any calls or messages for a couple of days. The phone was on because it sucked the battery dry twice. I went in and pushed some random buttons and now it works to get calls. I'll give it a couple more days...

Few entries

2010-10-18T10:01:00.000-07:00

I have been making few entries of late. I bought a new cell phone and learning how to use it is consuming me. I have not figured out how to do much with it and my depression grows.

The Dead Horse Theory

2010-10-07T16:00:00.000-07:00

The wisdom of the Native Americans is far reaching and prophetic. It's too bad that we who are blessed with this heritage, don't recognize it.
Subject: Dead Horse Theory
The tribal wisdom of the Dakota Indians, passed on from generation to generation, says that, "When you discover that you are riding a dead horse, the best strategy is to dismount."
However, in government, education, and in corporate America, more advanced strategies are often employed, such as: 1. Buying a stronger whip. 2. Changing riders. 3. Appointing a committee to study the horse. 4. Arranging to visit other countries to see how other cultures ride dead>horses. 5. Lowering the standards so that dead horses can be included. 6. Reclassifying the dead horse as living-impaired. 7. Hiring outside contractors to ride the dead horse. 8. Harnessing several dead horses together to increase speed. 9. Providing additional funding and/or training to increase dead horse's performance. 10. Doing a productivity study to see if lighter riders would improve the dead horse's performance. 11. declaring that as the dead horse does not have to be fed, it is less costly, carries lower overhead and therefore contributes substantiallymore to the bottom line of the economy than do some other horses. 12. Rewriting the expected performance requirements for all horses. And of course....13. Promoting the dead horse to a supervisory position.

HEART TO HEART (October 1, 2010 Tracy Press)

2010-10-02T15:36:00.000-07:00

Some folks have asked me if I was going to write one of these hopefully humorous columns on my most recent heart procedure. (Done a week ago.)
You see I have spasms in my coronary arteries and they can cause death. Does that sound funny to you?
How about the six times I have had my groin opened and catheters run up into my ticker? After four times you would have thought they’d have just installed a snap closure and saved us all the trouble. Can that be amusing?
I attempt to be entertaining as I have trained hundreds of doctors and nurses at three major medical centers. There is nothing more fun than lying in bed, half dressed, with a dozen wide-eyed young people wanting to hear about your obscure illness.
When they make their rounds, I dramatize a bit. There is the statistic that what I have only happens in two in a million patients and how that disappoints me. I figure I’m one in a million.
Then there are those hospital gowns. There was a time when I was modest. There was a time when I might have resented the hospital staff telling stories about what I did or said while they lunch in the cafeteria.
Alas, speaking of the cafeteria, I have grown to like hospital food. The dietitians are really trying to do better. I’m only joking a little.
With my surgeries – there have now been a dozen -- I have learned that it is not bad having parts of your body other than your chin shaved. It is the growing back of the hair that is bothersome. Considering the alternative, the re-growth of hair is not bad.
There are many things to complain about regarding hospitals, but most of them are nothing more than wishing you were home in your own bed and still 22.
Nurses in general are very kind. They do not make cheap wise cracks about my age, weight, or skin condition. They are smart enough to know that people like me are job security.
You also will not hear me complain about the amount of money that my doctors charge to repair, replace, probe and patch me up. I don’t complain about my plumber’s bill or grumble about my barber. I cannot fix a drain, cut hair, or give myself an angioplasty.
I only rarely hear them complain about my columns or speeches. Then again, these are free.
The unsung heroine in all of this is my wife. She drives me, covers me, apologizes for my behavior and listens to me whine.
She is the one to whom my heart belongs.

Happy Arthur's Day 2010

2010-09-25T15:37:00.000-07:00

Arthur Guinness started brewing 251 years ago in Dublin. We were there for the 250th Anniversary in September -- the 24th-- 2009. This week the anniversary came around again. The pictures are of the Guinness Storehouse.

The Guinness family have been huge charitable contributors to Ireland, just as Ireland has "contributed" to them.

Bean Festival Column

2010-09-21T21:26:00.000-07:00

Mike McLellan
Publication Date: Bean Festival 2010

Title: Beans: not musical, not fruit, but grand

Some people have been amazed that Tracy would choose the lowly bean to be the centerpiece of a community festival.
It is not as amazing as it is brave. Beans are unfairly seen as funny and maligned.
The theme was not chosen lightly nor was it chosen because other California cities beat us to other products. Lobster had been taken by Long Beach and Lodi took the grape. Tracy is full of beans. We are proud of it.
Certainly there are September festivals around California that appear to be classier. Chic is not everything.
San Francisco has its “Joy of Sake”. This is a festival centering on warm rice wine. It is not that sake is not good, but it needs to be paired with the joy of sushi. All those that think raw fish is thrilling raise your hand.
Julian, California put itself on the map with its “Julian Grape Stomp Festival.” This is not only a long title, but a violent one. These folks celebrate being vicious to vino.
We could have run a fowl like Fair Oaks which has its “Chicken Festival”. Don’t be mistaken, chicken is the first white meat, but hard to honor. This is not to mention that the name seems like celebrating cowardice.
The other white meat is feted in Mariposa at the “Blazin’ Hog BBQ Competition” which sounds like an arson fire at the Harley Davidson plant.
The festival that confuses me most, however, is “Women of Taste” in Oakland. I quake at the meanings to that one.
Then there is the “Festival of Fruit: Year of the Avocado” in Orange County. I can see the dishes of guacamole posing for pictures with the young children.
This is not to make fun of the other cities. It is to point to Tracy’s prominence in festivities.
Let us tip our wine glass to beans, more available than lobsters and less snooty than the grape. Beans are the legume of every person. Beans have no class distinction, no pretentiousness and no pretense.
Beans are humble, but incredibly necessary to the nutrition of the world.
18.3 million tons of beans were grown last year. This is one ton for every citizen of Florida.
The American Dry Bean Board claims that eating beans can lower your chance of having a heart attack and can prevent some cancers. Beans contain all important fiber. Can avocados say that?
As important as beans are, they promote no self-importance. You have to appreciate the modesty and unassuming nature of the bean. It is straight forward, honest and wholesome.
Beans could run for public office.

Tipperary takes hurling championship

2010-09-19T15:01:00.000-07:00

Before last September I did not know what hurling was. But we were in Dublin for the championship game between Kilkenny and Tipperary. Kilkenny won. It was their fourth championship in a row. The question was could they make it five? Yesterday, Tipperary closed the door on five by winning.

Last year we went from Dublin down to Kilkenny and were there for the hometown victory parade. (Any excuse for a beer and) I did a video of the double decked red buses bringing the players through town. Most fun was, however, just celebrating with the people. The buses, you will note, fill the whole of the street.

Best laid plans of Mike and men

2010-09-14T13:49:00.000-07:00

So we drove 650 miles so that we could get to our condominium in time for the last days of construction. That way we could move in and be ready for the fall.

The process falls a week behind, plus the Labor Day weekend and now the painters and cleaners will be done one day after we leave for the 650 miles home.

Let the sunshine in...

2010-09-14T09:58:00.000-07:00

I woke up this morning in Portland, Oregon and it was sunny -- in Bora Bora.

Ladies and Gentlemen, Boys and Girls

2010-09-09T15:38:00.000-07:00

the one, the only, Ringling Bros,, Barnum and Bailey Circus, featuring (according to PETA) mistreated elephants. I seemed to have missed the use of elephant hooks, poles, and chains.

Pastor Jones and Freedom of Speech

2010-09-09T12:41:00.000-07:00

So, it is a simple publicity stunt. The little church will burn the holy books of the Muslims -- you know the Muslims, one of the three groups that God wrought from the seed of the Prophet Abraham.
Pastor Jones, a world renowned scholar in both Christian Theology and Muslim belief learns from every world leader -- including that darn Pope (what does the Pope know about Christianity?) -- that what he is doing is immoral, stupid and the opposite of what Jesus would do.
Pastor Jones prays about it and a still small voice tells him that he will be famous and that the world will remember what he has done. To heck with Christian values, it is Jones' values.
Then Mr. Jones died as all people do and was called before the Lord God of Abraham, Isaac, Jacob... The Lord said, "Fire is a good thing, you will enjoy eternity in it along with all those others who think they are better than others. And, you'll like Fred Phelps. He is your kind of guy."

It is pride that goeth before and after the fall.

Anyone for Tennis?

2010-09-04T10:16:00.000-07:00

Chloe, Marietta and Lucas take on Mike and Duncan at paddle Tennis in Portland. Duncan has the speed but not the attention span. Mike has no speed. Chloe and Luke are quick and intense. Marietta has a mean backhand. Mike is hoping for a possible rain out.

Never before and maybe never again

2010-08-31T08:45:00.000-07:00

Rarely have I used this blog to speak about myself. I'm not that interesting.
I prefer to make fun of sacred cows and pompous people. This is different. I have gotten some less than cheerful medical news and I hurt all over from my fibromyalgia -- I think it is fibro. I have had body aches and pains for 30 years, but not this bad, The doctors have offered high powered pain medication, which has been rejected. Red wine seems to work, but I have to wait until 5 p.m. Pacific Daylight Time.

The bad news is that I need another heart catherization. I have had four already and none of them did any good. One came close to sending me to Jesus. Practice makes perfect I know.

Pray that the catherization works and that I do not need by-pass surgery. I have been around a hospital too much.

Dalai Lama speaks

2010-08-25T08:33:00.000-07:00

Dalai Lama's wisdom: 'The simple recognition that everyone else wants to be happy and not to suffer, just as I do, serves as a constant reminder against selfishness and partiality. It reminds us there is little to be gained from being kind and generous while hoping to win something in return. Actions motivated by a desire to earn a good name for ourselves are still selfish, even if they appear to be acts of kindness.'

Election 2010

2010-08-21T10:02:00.000-07:00

As usual, I will be doing a commentary on the elections. It just started way early. Meg Whitman's spending is helping the economy rebound, but I'm not sure I can take two more months of it. In fact, talking to others, the feeling is the more she spends, the less we like her.

The City Council race has started in Tracy. I have two candidates that I am supporting, but either can quickly lose my support if they break the rules or turn mean. I am already feeling some of this. The folks without much money seem to run a cleaner campaign.

In all cases, my vote will be based on the person's integrity.

The Laramie Project

2010-08-16T10:07:00.000-07:00

I just got done acting in and watching "The Laramie Project" at the Grand Theatre. Jack Elliott, the producer, asks the question, "Is tolerance enough or is the more loving thing for us to go on to acceptance."

As I watched mainly straight actors deal with the issues of homosexuality, I also watched men, women, black, brown, white, young, and not-so-young people unite to produce the play.

In the end, there were no labels in the cast. There were just people --loving and in some ways brave -- people asking the community to deal with a hard question. The actors gave their corporate answer by their very presence.

I was proud to be a part of it.

Cathy Guisewite cartoonist of "Cathy"

2010-08-12T10:31:00.000-07:00

Guisewite is retiring after 34 years of drawing Cathy.

Anyone who writes, draws or is a photographer for publication can only agree when she said, "I have worked really hard to try to earn my space because I know that it's extremely special to be able to own that little chunk of the newspaper."

Global warming or not?

2010-08-10T18:42:00.000-07:00

This picture is of Greenland's glaciers from about 35,000 feet (Aer Lingus flight). Take about half of this, break it off and let it float into the sea lanes and oil producing areas of Newfoundland. You can see what a danger it poses.

Some folks meddle.

2010-08-10T08:58:00.000-07:00

The folks at the church, my service club and the places where I volunteer all believe that with kindness we can make this place better. I believe they are right, although they want me to help. Darn.

August 12 - 15

2010-08-04T16:21:00.000-07:00

GRAND THEATRE FOR THE PERFORMING ARTS

TRACY, CA

The Smartest Dog...

2010-08-04T16:14:00.000-07:00

We have the smartest dog in the whole world.
He taught me to do tricks. Even when I am dog tired, and he is not, he has a way of convincing me to take him on a walk.
He also has trained me to give him a treat every time he does something cute, cool, or just wants one.
When we play ball, I have learned how to dutifully fetch it and throw it for him.
He is absolutely brilliant.

And I added another two...

2010-08-04T09:10:00.000-07:00

So, being over committed -- or needing to be committed -- I added another couple of volunteer involvements. Next week I play Father Roger Schmidt in "Laramie Project" at the Grand Theatre and I have signed on to the campaign to get Sgt. Dr. Bob Rickman (CHP) elected to City Council.

Just cannot help it

2010-08-01T14:28:00.001-07:00

Bill Benner keeps taking
these pictures of me
and it appears that
the retin-A is working.

You only thought it was about the shallowness of guys

2010-07-30T09:15:00.000-07:00

Tilted Windmills: Let there be light — Duracell or Eveready
by Mike McLellan / For the Tracy Press
Jul 30, 2010

When it comes to flashlights, size matters. They can be as large as a police baton or as small as a credit card. The test is which gives the greatest amount of light from the smallest source.Three of us guys were talking about our new flashlights.Women do not talk about this much. Women probably do not understand the animation behind the dialogue. Flashlights just a few years ago were long metal cans with a bulb in one end and leaking batteries at the other. Today, they can be incandescent, fluorescent, halogen, xenon or LED. They come with batteries that are replaceable or rechargeable. There are some that have cranks to generate power.So, three of us were in deep discussion. One man has a tactical LED flashlight that can shine a great distance. It was designed to be added to a firearm to illuminate a target.I have flashlight envy. Mine is nearly identical on the outside, but it does not have the same power. Mine is an LED light designed to mount on a wheelchair for finding the bathroom on moonless nights.The third man has a light the size of a pencil that is exceptionally bright. He has his set up to work hands-free, and it uses amazingly small batteries.In other contexts, we all have tried headlamps, and they are excellent if you keep your head pointed in the way you want to walk at night. (I tend to look around, which makes it difficult.)Someone remarked that flashlights are rare in certain Third World countries, where they were considered magic until only a few years ago.The conclusion is that men think of flashlights from an early age. I have always had a flashlight around.Thinking back, my very first light was a two D-cell Cub Scout flashlight modeled after the kind soldiers carried in the Korean War. The head was bent at a 90-degree angle so it could hook on your belt or stand on a table. I used it mostly for secret comic book reading after bedtime and for making shadow puppets on my bedroom ceiling.Technology today has created an amazing array of lights — amazing at least to us guysRead more: Tracy Press - Tilted Windmills Let there be light — Duracell or Eveready

It's Spam I am...

2010-07-27T09:27:00.000-07:00

Why not get it over with? Send me your bank pin number and your password for the internet and you will not have to bother with all of the spam requests for both. I'm here to help.

Polly Anna and Pessimism

2010-07-23T09:43:00.000-07:00

Arriving at the hospital I made my way to a patient’s room, saying “hi” to folks along the way.
Getting to my destination, the woman in the bed spied me coming and rolled over to face the wall. In a loud voice she said, “I don’t want to be cheered up!”
She had me pegged. I had come to share some humor, some hope, and some positive energy. She would have none of it. Her goal was to be miserable and lonely. My presence would likely disturb her self-pity.
Daunted, dazed, but not deterred, I sat down next to her bed and asked what the matter was. It appeared that nothing was the matter except my being there. My ethos was just too positive.
Admittedly, she was always able to find the dark cloud around every silver lining. Her negativity was noteworthy.
Most of us get depressed now and then. Some of us let the weight of the world bend our shoulders. Then again, it is mostly a personal choice. You can either clean the mud off your shoes or wallow in it.
From a personal standpoint, there have been times when I felt mired deeply in despair and just wanted to be swallowed up. It is easy to do when everything seems to be going wrong. The alternative is to use the events to create a new future or a different experience. It is like taking junk and making a beautiful sculpture.
Picasso made a film of his taking trash and putting it together into a statue of a goat. There is nothing more goat-like than this statue. That goes for goats as well.
It is not just making lemonade out of lemons. You need lots of sugar for that. Sometimes we do not have much sugar.
This is more like being unwilling to allow the waves of life to batter us down. We set our feet in the surf and hold on. We may get buffeted but not broken.
In self-defense, we need people sometimes to cheer us up. We have to tolerate their Polly Anna natures both as a gift to ourselves and to them. There is no need to reject their offerings.

Needs Photoshop

2010-07-19T09:00:00.001-07:00

Bill Benner, Rotary's official
photographer is always lurking.
We need to buy him a special
computer edition of Photoshop
so he can minimize my jowls,
smooth my skin, and make me
wrinkle-free. What is that? They
don't sell a program that does magic?
That hurts.

Thanks Glenn Moore

2010-07-19T08:45:00.000-07:00

So, this picture from the Tracy Press
is one that Glenn Moore took and
has to post to remind us that 1) this
weekend he went to the beach to cool off
and 2) in Tracy it is not exactly
as hot as hell -- but close.

I think I can, I think I can...

2010-07-14T10:17:00.000-07:00

qwerty... Some of the keys began falling off of my laptop. I abuse it. But, I did not want to spend the money on a new one or spend even more on repairs. My friend, Ben, said that I could replace the keyboard myself. No, no, I don't think so...
I bought a keyboard on Amazon.com for $14 plus shipping and it took a little over 5 minutes to do. I am a techie! Thanks, Ben.

Two of a kind

2010-07-10T11:36:00.000-07:00

Duncan and I have been
just hanging out this week.
He spent two weekends
with friends while we went
out of town. He misses the
excitement. This week I've
been having a flare of one
of my illnesses. So, I've just
been sitting on the couch.
He wants to be out and needs
me. I want to be out and feel
punk. I wish he'd take me
for a walk.

The summer Heat Getting You Down?

2010-07-10T09:53:00.000-07:00

It could be worse...

Behold the old has passed away

2010-07-09T10:09:00.000-07:00

I know a number of people who are going through transitions in their lives right now. The former is giving way to the new.
In 2004 I "lost" my identity, vocation, and social context. Many of the people I considered my friends left me to flail in a sea of illness and isolation. I was ill and one supposes damaged goods. Pastors, like physicians, should not get sick.
It was, however, a wonderful opportunity for me to re-invent myself. I have now found new skills and rediscovered old values. God was working all along.
I found new friends and learned to appreciate old ones who stood by me.
My body will never be the same. My illness has changed that. Yet my spirit will never be the same either. I am reborn, new, and hopefully improved.

"...a sailor's delight."

2010-07-01T16:00:00.000-07:00

Lily pond of Butler House

2010-06-29T21:09:00.000-07:00

Kilkenny, Ireland

Democrat thinks like a libertarian

2010-06-27T17:37:00.000-07:00

Everywhere you look there is advice on how to stretch your dollars during what U.S. News and World Report calls “The Great Recession.”
The lists include everything from conservation of electricity to quitting your latte habit. The underlying theme is self restraint.
It appears one way to solve some of these problems is to give our lawmakers some basic lessons in sportsmanship. If they would show some self restraint we’d all be better off.
These folks seem to live in an acid-free environment. Protected from the real air of this world, they do not know the level of acid – mostly stomach -- churning in the rest of us.
We would just like them to put society’s interests first before special interests. We would appreciate it is they acted like nice people dedicated getting the best for everyone.
May we suggest that those who are elected to govern learn a little about the words “self restraint?” It is not about shorter showers, fewer mochas and fuel efficiency. It is about decency, character and integrity. Most of all it is about going into local neighborhoods and listening.
Having grown up in Sacramento with the sons and daughters of governors, senators and assembly members, it was obvious that they live in a bubble. They believe that everyone debates endlessly. We don’t. We look in our wallet and ask two questions: what do I need between now and payday, and is it there?
Some of us do not take long showers, leave on lights or need fancy coffee. What we would like is security. Their wrangling makes it less likely.
If we want to stretch our dollars maybe we ought to go back to amateur government. We could legislative gatherings every two years for two weeks. If something important happens between times we call an emergency meeting.
This, of course would cut back on per diem and electrical use in the Capitol building. It would also save us from people who never really go back to their home districts to sleep.
We could stretch dollars and make the money go farther. It is just an idea. It worked in the early days of our republic – you know, those days that our legislators seem to pine for – it might work today.
It is worth a try.

Finally a picture with Marietta Not Taking it.

2010-06-24T16:54:00.000-07:00

Almost 44 years.

God is good.

Tracy Press Column from Father's Day 2010

2010-06-23T19:58:00.000-07:00

My father and I didn’t know each other very well.A thing I fear is that my children do not know me. Even more, I fear they do.Parenthood is very tough for those of us without training or past experience. You have to be licensed to fish and drive a car, but parenthood is even more inevitable through total ignorance.So there you are. My daughters had a rookie father. Their mother had been trained by years of baby-sitting and a mother who knew how to do it. My kids’ dad was low on experience in parenting.I only had a general idea of which end to diaper, and I never got over the gag reflex of feeding them liver and peas.You would think that children raised by such a father would turn out poorly, but what I lacked their mother was able to compensate for.If I had sons instead of daughters, I might have been able to teach them how to belch and scratch their bellies. Daughters do not wish to learn these things. These were basically my only domestic skills.As a “Leave It to Beaver” dad, my job was to work outside the home and bring back wisdom. I know I imparted important insights into the vagaries of life to my children. Their mother, however, taught them to function day to day.When it came to teaching them how to drive, they chose the one who would not yell at them — and that was not me.They did ask me philosophical, theological and medical questions. I was always glad to give them advice. They seemed happy to receive it, even when it was beside the point.For example, I explained early on that it is never a good idea to spit into the wind. They seem never to have fallen prey to that error. I assume they are teaching that maxim to their own children.It was not that I was never around. I was generally available, like a pair of water pump pliers ready to go when needed. While not needed often, they are important at times.Being the father of the bride is a great example. Fathers have a big part in weddings — they walk their daughters down the aisle and give away what they never had. They also pay the bills.If I had it to do all over again, I’d do the same things — because I didn’t know any better then and I know very little today.Knowing how well their mom did, this will be a happy Father’s Day.

Log on and give me a thumbs up: http://tinyurl.com/29gt4xo

Family in the Portland Rose Festival Parade

2010-06-21T09:23:00.000-07:00

Again , Marietta was photographer. Mike was in California. Bryan was in Chicago.