SEX

“Create in me a clean heart, O Lord, and renew a right spirit within me.”orange tree

Aha!  Now that I have your attention, let’s talk about something that is highly over-rated and miserably misunderstood.  Trust me.  I know from experience that all the hype before I actually became a participant was gleaned from locker room banter and behind the barn experimentation.  That’s just the way my generation’s parents dealt with the “birds and the bees.”  I can’t recall any of my friends receiving the father-son talk at puberty.  What we learned about sex was learned from older brothers or older friends who had as much insight into sexual relations as the bull in the barn.  After we had been active for several years, the school’s gym teacher broached the subject in junior high school with instruction that covered only the physical aspects of anatomy and not the emotional/psychological/spiritual responsibilities.  At home instruction consisted of a terse, one sentence directive: “Keep it in your pants.”

Easy to understand why, as budding alcoholics, the sexual aspect of our lives was most often colored by a hodgepodge of misinformation and selfish activity directed by the developing “self-will run riot” mantra which controlled us.  Of all people, alcoholics were the least qualified people to enter into committed relationships and rear families.

In order to attain a completeness in sobriety we had to make drastic changes in thinking and behavior.  Of course, the grace of a Higher Power guided us into that new way of sober-living.  Giving up old ideas about sex was probably the most difficult change to master but we knew that  gaining healthy attitudes about sex was necessary for us to return to roles as husbands and fathers in our families and community.  To that end, pubescent boyhood sex-play had to mature into adult manhood sexuality.

Understanding that sex is a God-given, joyful responsibility rather than a sinful, hidden activity, for some of us, was a huge hurdle.  Our early experiences were often saddled with guilt and shame.  Our religious upbringing did nothing to enlighten and dignify the most powerful human force known to mankind.

As Peggy Lee lamented in “Is That All There Is?”, a very popular song of 1969, we often developed in our sex lives the same addictive behavior which controlled our use of alcohol and drugs.  More experimentation, riskier encounters, and less emotional satisfaction drove us to places in which only fools and derelicts attempted to find fulfilment.  Not surprisingly, we became losers, misfits, and runaways in our addictions of substances and behavior.  Only the grace of a loving God was able to restore us to sober-living in all aspects of our lives.

“We tried to shape a sane ideal for our future sex life.  We subjected each relation to this test: was it selfish or not?  We asked God to mold our ideals and help us to live up to them.  We remembered  always that our sex partners were God-given and therefore good, neither to be used lightly or selfishly nor to be despised and loathed.”  Bill W., AS BILL SEES IT, pg. 142

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be careful little eyes

CANDLEA friend invited me to sit with him to watch one of the popular offerings on prime time television.  My viewing over the years has diminished to baseball, news, and college football.  Sometimes an old movie will grab my attention and I will settle down to watch and reminisce.  But, today’s 1258 channels on cable don’t get me too excited.

The show we watched was not alarmingly violent, had little sexual content, kept cussing to that which 8 year-olds now use at school.  But, it was bizarre in the images presented and the script.  Actually, bizarre is not strong enough.  It was chilling, ominous, and dark.  It creeped me out.  The computer generated visual effects were graphically disturbing, not something I wanted to put into my memory banks and certainly not something I would want a 10 year-old to process in his/her developing psyche.

“Trash in, trash out”.  We seem to have lost as a supposedly advanced society the wisdom that what we ingest mentally is who we become as a person.  Those images and that music which I allow into my brain will affect who I become as a person.  I can fill that space in my head with soul-nurturing entertainment or gut-wrenching graphics.  I can honor the presence of Jesus within or I can dump trash on his salvific glory. It’s a choice I have to make every minute of every day.  And, being the broken piece of humanity which I am, I sometimes fall short.  There are times when the best I can accomplish is damage control.

Our entertainment industry has replaced a God of joy and peaceful coexistence with its god of sex, immorality, and violence.  We should not wonder why mass shootings are becoming commonplace in America.  The children are learning from the movies, music, media, and politicians that the best solution to a problem involves a gun and standing up for “rights”.  Even some of our churches are preaching a theology of exclusion.  “You are not like me, you do not think like me, you do not look like me; therefore, you need to be eliminated.”  The less violent of these misguided religionists are content with the thought that the elimination will be an eternity in hell for those who do not fit their narrow viewpoint.  But, increasingly in America we see an active pursuit of legislating hatred in the name of God.

I am a child of God, I need to be careful what I see, hear, say, think, and feel.

 

 

NEWS FROM GABBY GRAYWHISKERS: howdy, howdy

I sure do appreciate the opportunity to entertain all of you with my rants and raves and plain ole drivel.  My creator, LarryPaulBrown, says he is a weary old man who needs a break from all the twaddle that passes as news and all the news that is nothing but twaddle.  I asked him what the hell “twaddle” was and he advised me to look it up in the Merriam Webster.  Actually what he said was, “Doofus, there’s a dictionary on the desk; use it.”

I’m not sure how long he will be in a bad mood, but, from the looks of the political scene, it could be a long time.  Now, as for me, I ain’t the brightest bulb on the string, but I know fer a fact some of them old farts in Washington DC got less sense than my jackass standing yonder in the pasture.  Maybe we can talk about it sometime.

You may have read a few of my guest posts over the past few months.  What’s that you say?  Don’t remember em?  Probably just as well.  Larry asked me to clean up my act a little bit since his readers is nice, proper folks who don’t appreciate swearing and dirty talk.  “Well hell,” I says, “ain’t nothing wrong with a little naughtiness once in a while.”  He says he’s gonna keep an eye on me.

So, afore we get started, I thought a cute lil joke would be a good icebreaker.

There was this old farmer who lived alone with his aging daughter.  She was none too bright and  downright ugly.  The farmer was concerned about what would happen to her when he passed on to his glory.  So, one day a smiling, horny, vacuum salesman stopped by.  The farmer noticed that his daughter was taking a hankering to the handsome man.  So, he hatched a plot to trap the salesman into having sex with and then marrying his aging daughter……whaaaaat?  You’ve already heard this one?  Ok, let’s just move on.

I ain’t no big fan of restaurant eating these days.  Especially them fast-food places like McDonalds and Burger King.  Ok, so you order a deluxe burger, fries, and a pie.  You look at the register and it’s telling you $6.49.  Then you say, “and a large Coke, please.”  All  of a sudden that total is $10.49.

“Miss, I think you made a mistake.  $4 for a Coke?”

She looks at ya like you just escaped off the turnip truck, people behind you are grumbling, your wife is fussing and you just tuck tail and fork over $11.00.

“Sir, would you like to donate the change to the Whasahootsitz Childrens’ Fund?”

“Hell no,” I fire back to her and then notice the big bubba standing aside me in a wife-beater shirt glaring down my skinny little shoulders.

“No, miss, but I sure would love to donate $5 to the little angels of Whasahootsitz.”

All’s well that ends well. YessireeBob.  Now you might ask, “But, Gabby, what about your wife?  You didn’t order anything for her.”

Y’all don’t know my wife.  Truthfully, I don’t know her anymore ever since she had that change of life thing.  I know now why they call it change of life cause my life has sure as hell changed over the past few months.  Just a fussin and bitchin about everything.  She don’t want sex then accuses me of having an affair because we don’t have sex anymore.  Go figure.  And you ask what has that got to do with eating at Burger King?

“Have it your way.”  Remember that jingle from years ago?  She was in one of her pissy moods, I starting singing “have it your way” and now she won’t eat at Burger King.  I don’t get it.  C’mon, men have change of life issues too, I mean, let’s get honest.  Plumbing don’t work like it used to, more hair growing out of the ears than on top of the head and how about that libido, guys?  It don’t go away, it just gets put on the back burner to simmer on and on and on…….and on.

Hey, did ya hear the joke about the old farmer who had a gay bull?

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REALITY

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A friend invited me to a movie, said I needed to get out of the house and enjoy a few chuckles and smiles. Yes, I agreed. My brain was getting moldy spending too much time with the mundane chores of daily living and an afternoon at the cinema sounded like a good thing.

Of course when one pays $11 to $15 bucks for a show (forget about snacks and drinks) one doesn’t want to miss anything that he’s paid for. That includes previews and we arrived when previews had already started. That’s OK; twenty minutes after seating ourselves previews were still being previewed. Why not just call them “wastes of time” or “nappy time”?

However, not being one to complain, I sat through all the sex, bloodshed, violence, and cussing that was going to appear this coming summer and finally the feature presentation began. It was billed as a comedy and, indeed, the trailer showing on television as advertisement seemed to be quite comical. So, I had high hopes. The last movie my friend and I saw was “Cinderella” and I was rather enchanted that ‘good movies’ were still being produced by the industry.

I do not claim to be a movie critic. I do not claim to be main stream America. I do not claim to be hip…not anymore that is. I’m just an old fogey who wants to be entertained for my eleven bucks.

The opening 5 minutes included sexual innuendo, nudity, violence, a crashing car and volumes of blood. “OK”, I assured myself, maybe this will get better as we move along. I had even stuck my hearing aids in my ears for this special occasion so that I wouldn’t miss a word.

Bad move. The noise got louder, the violence got worse, and then the cussing began. Now, I’m not a prude and I can handle an “F” word once in a while. But my faith and religion force me to draw the line at profanity laced with the objects of my devotion. God and Jesus did not have any place in that movie script, and neither did I.

I waited outside the theater with a nice cup of coffee until my friend appeared when the movie had ended. He understood why I left and for that I was grateful. The movie carried an “R” rating. I should have checked beforehand.

But, the fact that this movie is being well received by the public forces me to realize that this type of behavior and language is mainstream America. It is no longer back-on-the farm civility and principle that rules our land. Young, pre puberty children converse with ‘F’ and ‘MF’ as if it were grammar school proper. Guns have become the common solution to difficulties which in a time past were addressed with conversation and compromise.

Which brings me to my point. Whose reality will prevail?  I refuse to surrender what is my reality.  I refuse to carry a weapon to the grocery store, to school or to my church. And I refuse to accept the rudeness and arrogance of contemporary America as normal.  Contrary to the rhetoric of supporters of our violent, sex-driven culture who adamantly declare that the movies, TV, and video games they enjoy are purely fantasy, I must counter with something my Grandpa taught me as a boy.

Oh, be careful little eyes, what you see,
For the Father up above, is looking down in love,
Oh be careful little eyes what you see.

Oh, be careful little mouth, what you say,
For the Father up above, is looking down in love,
Oh be careful little mouth what you say.

Oh, be careful little hands, what you do,
For the Father up above, is looking down in love,
Oh be careful little hands what you do

Oh, be careful little mind what you think,
For the Father up above, is looking down in love,
Oh be careful little mind, what you think.

In today’s world I would condense Grandpa’s advice:

“TRASH IN, TRASH OUT.”

Matthew 6:22-23  (NIV)
22 “The eye is the lamp of the body. If your eyes are healthy, your whole body will be full of light. 23 But if your eyes are unhealthy, your whole body will be full of darkness. If then the light within you is darkness, how great is that darkness!

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