LEMMINGS

Slowly but surely we've become a nation of lemmings. Fuzzy, harmless little lemmings with a singular mind set ... follow the guy in front. Today more lemmings are being created than ever before.

Higher education seems to be the incubator of "Lemonistic" thinking ... Woven in to the curriculum of knowledge is the lemming mentality. Lemming 101?!?

I personally have nothing against the growing masses of lemmings ... However I would never want to become a publicly correct lemmings.

I'm a free spirit and free-spirit's don't reside in lemmings. I'm also independent and lemmings can't afford to be independent.

Fortunately I just don't seem to fit today's lemming profile.

A lemming has a need to be accepted ... a need to be politically correct and follow the direction of the masse ... "Shake ‘n bake," "paint by numbers" all these terms are indicative of a true lemming. A lemming feels a great contentment when he's inside the line ... but there has to be a line.

Just give a lemming a job description and a little cubicle with his desk. Happy! Happy! Happy!

Ah, another lemming says, "Just give me some food, a seat and screen, and I'll be content".

Nose to rectum they continue their common direction.

Thoughtless followers of the masses.

Clueless followers of the masses.

In my lifetime, I've worked with lemmings. I've worked around lemmings, I've worked under lemmings; but I'm definitely not a lemming. I'm an independent, alive and creative individual, traveling an entirely different direction then today's herd of lemmings..

On occasion, some lemmings even dare call me a rebel. What an honor!

How nice it is to be free from the fuzzy parade of mediocrity.

A CHRISTIAN IDOL?

When God's Church became the building, it began to die. It seems the "world" became aware of this deadening trend, and started calling the building the Church. Little by little Christians in the past followed along and accepted this change ... the building in too many cases became the church.

Look at the grand and permanent Church buildings in Europe and ... America.

Christians, as a dynamic people, slowly became invisible, and disappeared in the shadow of the Cathedral. Wow!

How we Christians love our beautiful buildings, we love "our" Church.

Our buildings, called Churches; created and designed by us. They're beautiful, they're permanent, they're visible and above all they're ours!

In reality, we, as God's Church, are eternal, consequently permanent and we, as a people, are to be visible lights in the community of dark doing together what we can't do as an individual.

Today it seems that what goes on inside many Church buildings is secondary to the growth and maintenance of the building itself.

It's apparent that a growing number of Church members would rather put their money and time into maintaining and improving their buildings than financing the more abstract, yet eternal, ministry of their Church.

Ministry is the very purpose of the Church.

I hate to see the Dynamic of God absorbed by the brick, steel and glass of man made idols. It's happening. Aaron had his golden calf, and we Christians today have. Let's not forget who we are, who's we are and what we're for ... where we gather, and where we worship is simply incidental.

TWO SHOES ... FOUR FEET

As a Junior High student in a Mexican school you are required to have a uniform and shoes. In a poor family having a small income ... $320 per month ... and seven kids, you just have to make do, Junior High school uniforms and backpacks cost around $90 each.

Ricki and Tomas are two brothers about the same size. Ricki, twelve, is in Junior High and his brother Tomas, eleven, is in grammar school; they have one pair of shoes between them. They make do by sharing the same shoes, When Tomas returns about noon, he takes his shoes off and Ricki puts them on and heads two miles down the dirt road to his school.

As a kid I was poor too, and ran all summer barefoot, but I had a better option than that. I had a good pair for Sunday and my "feet" world wasn't dirt but cement.

When I came Saturday afternoon, the boys were running around barefoot and in pajamas. I kidded them about wearing their pajamas so late, then I looked at the clothes drying on the fence. Mom stripped all the kids down to essentials and washed the clothing that was left, which wasn't much.

The family, like others in the neighborhood, buys their water from a tank truck that comes by every few days.

Yes, we paid for one uniform and two pair of shoes. These kids need school. I looked at all the boy's school books and grades, then gave them each $1.00 for their good grades ... a world of need, so close, and yet so far away.

NOW THIS THING IS BIG!

Yesterday I came out of the Krispy Kreme factory with a donut and cup of coffee; looking to the left I saw what appeared to be an armored car. A brand new armored car.

Parked near me was a vehicle I had never seen before.

I walked around it checking it out. It wasn't an armored car. It wasn't a swollen Hummer. It was simply the biggest street legal "what-ever" I had ever seen on wheels. Big wheels!

Ooh, the price tag!

Men like cars, and men like big, and men like tough ... this was the most impressive BIG ‘n TOUGH thing I'd ever seen. As I looked up at it, I quietly wondered at what altitude the driver's seat was.

Just then two young men came out with their donuts, went to the vehicle and started climbing up the side. They reached the doors and opened them and sat down inside. How I envied them ... looking down on all the cars below.

Mileage? I would guess about three gas stations an hour.

Wow! Look at that tire.

One of their tires would cost about the same as my little Nissan Xterra ... which I formerly thought was a rather Macho vehicle.

The difference? I drive around slow cars on the freeway, this thing simply drive over them! Oh, the feeling.

Well, as I stood there, I had to admit that mine wasn't as big as theirs. Mine Xterra was more in the toy Hot Wheels class now.

Obviously, these two men weren't politically correct, they weren't green, that's for sure.

Thumbs up! Two fossil fuel fools dedicated to heating up the atmosphere while driving over the little tree huggers in their electric wind powered sewing machines.

Yep, I slowly drove away, a humbled man.

LADY, WHERE DID YOU GO?

Ladies seemed to have vanished. When I was younger, I remember, we had ladies. Come to think of it we had gentlemen too. "Ladies and Gentlemen" wasn't just an opening statement speakers used in speaking to a crowd.

There actually were Ladies and Gentlemen. I do remember.

Young boys, like myself, were taught to become a Gentleman and treat Ladies with the honor and respect they were due. We were also taught manners. (When's the last time you heard the term manners? )

The term lady isn't used much any more. Today the concept of Ladies is, well, obsolete ... dead.

I rather miss ladies.

A true lady is rare find ... and probably old.

When they hear of the term Lady, many look back and think of the term Lady as a formal European entitlement ... part of the aristocracy of yesteryear. History.

Maybe that's the case.

Today it's simply woman or women. Woman's lib and Feminists stripped woman of lady. Feminists "We are not the weaker sex! We are equal with men! We don't want men or for that matter need men. Cut your hair, dress in a suit, stand tall; you are equal ... and keep your seats men, we can stand as well as you! No need to open that door, we can do it as well as you and even a little better."

Today it's simply women and men ... continuing their quiet struggle.

Throw out the manners, dignity, honor and respect we had for ladies. Throw out the beautiful and graceful walk of a lady. Throw out the perfumed trail of a Lady.

Today, Its simply men and women, boys and girls trying to blend into some sort of crude short haired Unisex anomaly.

Yeah, as an old Gentleman, I miss the ladies.

COMMERCIALS

I love today's TV commercials, don't you? An endless variety of devious sales pitches, if these guys could get through the screen they would grab you!

Where won't these guys go?

How unusual. On the screen bursts a pre wedding scenario; everyone in their best formal dress, white covered tables ... wine glasses ... Happy handsome young people, Then this young and happy lady picks up the mike and discusses ... intestinal bloating and constipation, flatulence? At least they're outside.

I'll have to admit it's a great pre-wedding subject!

Speaking of TV commercials, the pipe people are an interesting animation; pipe people in a dilemma running around looking desperately for a bathroom. Gotta-go syndrome! Bladder control problems.

Pills, depends, whatever.

Oh! And I'm a little intimated by the suggestion that I may have erectile dysfunction. BUT ... they caution ... if the pill works too well, (over five hours), your not to brag, but rather call a doctor immediately! We are assured that just one pill would make one ready at any time any place.

Of course I blushed as I looked up the definition of erectile and dysfunction.

Speaking of pills; I just found out tonight that one pill a day of this product in a bottle, will give me ribs. Muscular ribs! Now that's just what this old man needs is muscular ribs.

When I was young, commercials were on radio and much simpler ... mostly dramatic soap operas except the Marlboro man in the magazine. He was a macho nicotine icon, full of testosterone sitting proudly on his horse smoking. (The horse wasn't smoking.)

Cheers! At least today there are no tobacco or liquor commercials.

THE LOST COIN

After a hard long day working at the Tijuana dump Freddy with his wide smile gave me a big hug. He was dirty from top to toes. Probably no bath for weeks.

Working at the dump, about thirty-five miles away nets him about one dollar per hour.

Nine and ten hours of sweating hard work gives you a poor wage. It's hard to live on a wage like that.

I've known Freddy since he was a kid; he's been on drugs and alcohol for years; at age thirty-five he now looks about a thin and wrinkled fifty.

Freddy reached into his pocket and pulled out a dirty coin he found at the dump. "Brother von, what's this worth?" ... and he handed it to me. I gave it a quick look; It looked like a U.S. Silver dollar. "Freddy, this looks like a silver dollar, it should be worth $30 or $40 dollars, let me see what I can get for it," and I put it into my pocket.

When I got home, I sat down, relaxed and then remembered the coin. Reaching into my pocket I pulled out the coin, wiped it off and took a closer look.

I noted the date on the coin.1803. I had never seen a coin like that or held one that old. It was a US coin. It was silver. It had no amount of money printed on it. Weird!

Could this silver coin be valuable?

Could a treasure actually be found in the Tijuana dump? ... out of the trash a treasure?

We had it valued.

This old 1803 coin is estimated to be worth from $2,000 to $5,000, depending on it's condition.

Wisdom. It seems so simple. Give Freddy his money.

He's probably on drugs. In his world that we know so well, they would kill him for $1,000, to say nothing of $4,000. And ... he has his enemies.

The coin is worth far less than Freddy is worth ...

Now we have to work out a reasonable solution and that won't be easy.

In our world we work in what many would call human trash; the dirty and damned ... but more than once we've pulled out a priceless and eternal treasure ... thanks for your prayers.

APATHY

This photo is worth studying. They say that a picture is worth a thousand words, and if that's true, then this photo is worth thousands of words that compress into one ... apathy.

If you could encompass poverty, bring it into focus and place it into one room ... this is what poverty would look like.

Notice, the lack of emotion shown in this picture. This photo illustrates ... no hope.

This scene wasn't posed, it was a quick shot I took in a rat- infested Tijuana ghetto a few hundred feet from our border with Mexico.

Welcome to our world of reality. Where mothers will sell their children's school clothing for food ... and fathers will sell their daughters for drugs.

Our ministry is working with the real poor where we find them. We work with kids, adults and families; we work out in the sprawling neighborhoods and within the ghettos of Tijuana's inner city.

We work while we can, sharing "who" we have and His love.

I find the love of Jesus takes many forms, (Matt.25:33) from the Gospel message, teaching and discipline, to distributing food and clothing. The love of Jesus can also take the form of meeting medical needs, and help in schooling also ministering to those in prison.

This is how we translate "Doing the Word." (Jam.1:22)

As the world economy falters, and America's economy slows, Mexico's economy continues to spiral downward ... Tijuana's poverty is growing to a dangerous level. The environment around us is becoming dangerous and explosive ... just waiting for an occasion to ignite.

From apathy to despair, and hunger to anger, resulting in desperation ... what's at fault? ... who's at fault? We haven't time to point fingers ... we're called to meet needs. Immediate needs.

As I said, we work "while" we can with what we have, and what we have is what folks give us to work with ... charity?

Indeed charity may begin at home but it must not end there!

THE DAY I MET JESUS

I'll be honest, I was in a hurry. It was a matter of hours and I was to leave for Venezuela. I had an evening speaking engagement in Mexico to brush up on and had to get down to a market and buy some U.S.A. magazines to take to the missionaries working in the jungles of Venezuela, then I had to pack. Hurry time!

Time was short and like I said I needed to brush up on my message.  I was speaking that night on love.

I drove quickly to the market rushed in and bought some tortillas and magazines to take with me to Venezuela.

Rushing out of the store with my package, I headed up the parking lot toward my car.

I was interrupted by a short older man standing there on a walker.

He smiled and quietly asked me if I was going his direction and he pointed sort of East, "would I give him a lift to his house just a few short blocks away". He said he was a little tired. (I had a flashing thought he may need the exercise.)

Well, I was in a hurry. I had my message on love to prepare for and if I was going any direction, it was West.

So I gently told him that I would be glad to BUT I was in a hurry and that, in fact, I was not going his direction and ... otherwise I would be glad to ... he smiled and interrupted me, saying "It’s no problem, if I go slow I can make it ..."

About that time God slapped me on the side of my head! "What are you doing, von?"  "Can your message on "love" be more important than demonstrating it?"

Then I realized the fool I was ... Mister, "I'll be glad to take you, no problem!"

Now he replied ..."  No, I know your busy, I can make it or someone else may give me a lift..."

"Nope! I'm taking you home . ! "  He smiled and we walked, slowly to my car.      Real slow.

I slid opened my Volkswagen van, side door and seated him placing his walker next to him and we drove off.

Sure enough, in just three blocks, he pointed out where he was staying.

I pulled into the driveway, and slowly helped him out and placed him on his walker.

He paused, looked up at me, and gave me a big smile saying thank you ... then he winked at me.

Winked at me!

It was his eyes and that wink that gave His Divine disguise away.

I actually feel I've met Jesus Incognito ... and almost missed him in my hurry to minister.

THE DOCTRINE OF JESUS INCOGNITO

Many of us find Jesus in all the typical places ... The Bible, the Church, the worship and often in the beauty of His world ... yet we miss the compassionate Jesus ... by overlooking Him, and even avoiding Him as He walks disguised as poor and needy in the dark of poverty.

The way I read Matthew 25:35 It isn't so much what we, His people did, that condemns us; it’s what we didn't do that actually condemns us. What we didn't do to Jesus incognito.

Hungry, thirsty, sick ...

Do the physically needy trump the spiritually needy, or are they actually to be one in the same. There is a lesson here.

If we look in the right places among the wrong ... we will discover a different Jesus. A Jesus we would never expect, In a place we would never expect. In a form that would surprise us.

"When did we see you?"

We can find Jesus as a poor hungry child.

If we look close we can find Jesus as a blind and crippled boy.

Open the prison and we find Jesus as a convict, locked in his cell.

Look closely at that feeble bedfast woman in an institution, is she actually ... Jesus?

In the understaffed hospital He’s laying on a bed hooked to IV's and oxygen.

Would you see Jesus in that drunk laying in his vomit, sleeping it off in the alley?

Or Jesus, as the old woman slowly walking down the road.

Unfortunately most of us Christians seem to be living and working ... where Jesus isn't. Why?

EVER HAD AN UGLY KID HUG YOU?

Zona Norte nights are dark. The alley we were walking was dark and a bit dangerous. Lots of drugs and alcohol. Long smelly walls filled with dirty graffiti.

Young Freddy was relieving himself against the wall when he saw us; quickly zipping up, he turned and while extending his wrist to me said "Grandpa!!!"

He smiled and hugged me. (In Mexico, if your hand is wet or dirty, you extend your wrist.)

Freddy is eleven and weighs about 200 pounds. He’s, well ... he’s not the sharpest knife in the drawer. A heavy naive kid who bangs around Zona like the big ball in a pin-ball machine.

Everyone knows Freddy.

It hurts his feet to walk so he stands a lot.

To be honest Freddy is unlovely, and because he is unlovely, he’s unloved and ... just maybe a little unlovable.

On the outside he looks like a happy animated clown, laughs a lot. Fortunately he is slow and unaware of those making fun of him.

Or, maybe, by now, he just doesn't care.

"Grandpa, sit next to me while we play this game", Play-station. Soccer. I sat. I watched. "I was his cheer-leader!" I had a chance to study him and his street friends and their strange dark world.

Freddy is just one of hundreds of unloved and worthless kids roaming the night streets of the Zone.

Kids, each night, playing the dangerous game of tag with Satan, the lord of darkness.

Does anyone care about Freddie standing on the corner ... existing the best way an overweight eleven year old can, in the darkness of Zona.

Only eleven years old. And ... alone ... lost.

Spending the night leaning against a darkened wall of cold graffiti, He waits the long night for a friendly face but only the Zona parade of drugged people with blurred eyes pass by.

Sometimes an opportunity comes his way for a little extra cash ... by being used a short time by an inebriated man of passion!

Mother? Father? You're kidding!

Who would want a kid like Freddy?

Does anyone dare love the unlovely ... standing alone in the shadows?

ANOTHER HIT IN THE REAR!

My Nissan SUV, like myself, is getting a little older, It isn't the beauty it once was. I'm a little sensitive about my rear end, or rather the SUV’s rear end. It’s a cosmetic thing!

You see I've been hit four times in the rear! Each time, for one reason or other, not one of the drivers could pay for the repair ... so being a logical and patient Christian, I'm just waiting for another guy to hit me and HE can pay for all five of the damages. Seems sensible. A financially sound perspective.

Well, today I got hit again!

I was slowly backing out of my parking space at a local market when, to my right, I saw this driverless black vehicle rolling down the tween-way gaining speed as it rolled. It was rolling toward me.

I was hoped the vehicle would miss me. I really don't like collisions, especially the driverless kind.

I tensed up, like I usually do when I'm being hit in the rear, and waited ... sure enough it hit the right rear of my car!

Bang!

So as we men do on such occasions, I got out, walked to the back, put my hands on my hips ... and looked over the situation.

Praise the Lord! No damage done to my car or to the black grocery cart that hit me.

Now I've been hit by the best of cars and orneriest of drivers, but this is the first time I've been hit by an irresponsible out of control black grocery cart.

Well, now I'm waiting for number six!

MARIJUANA AND MUSHROOMS

The leadership at the Union Church in Bogota Columbia heard that a youth speaker from the States was in town. So they called and wanted to know if I would speak a couple of days to their Church teens and speak to the Church Sunday as the Pastor was absent.

O. K. by me. I met with the Church leadership to get a better take on the weekend. I was shocked to find that the Sponsors of their youth were agnostics. The Christian Deacon from the church was apologetic ... he sadly told me that they were the only ones willing to take the Youth of the Church.

I was to be housed with them. They soon heard that a Baptist Youth Worker was to be their guest.

That didn't go over too well.

I climbed the stairs to the double doors of the big house meeting the couple on the porch. Bogota’s weather is rather cold and humid and the meeting between us was as cold yet civil.

Once inside the house I noticed in their foyer lots of healthy green Marijuana plants. They showed me up to my room in the third floor. On the way up I was invited to join their big drinking party in about an hour.

I deferred and went the unpacking route.

The young lady was strong into women’s-lib, the young man had to do his share 50/50. As guest I had to cautiously side step around the constant arguments. It seems they each saw 50/50 differently.

At dinner the couple mentioned to me that the Pastor and his teenage son were out in nearby mountains searching out some special hallucinogen mushrooms. You might say they were on a "trip" of their own. (Sunday service was going to be a challenge.)

My three meetings with the kids went as well as could be expected under the conditions.

It seems that this couple were on a grant studying the effect of a poor diet on young children in poor areas of Bogota.

Our last time together was at breakfast. I remember breakfast well. The young man asked me a little of what I did.

I told him I was a missionary to the very poor street kids (Gaminos) in Mexico.

I'll never forget their surprised look.

The young man leaned over his plate, looking at me ... He stated a stinging question:

"You mean you're an Evangelical Christian, and you give a Damn about the poor?"

I'll never forget that shocking question he stated to me.

Ah yes, we Christians have a great reputation among those of the world! A reputation we well deserve.

BETTER CHECK YOUR OIL!

Some years ago as I was driving down the road I started on a "pity party." Ever have one of those? No one is patting me on the back so it’s pity me time. I call ‘em "pity parties"

I had been working hard for months; as a result our church had a great youth program, large Sunday School and kids club of hundreds. Outreach ministries every week ... you name it, we were going hot! One of the hottest youth churches on the West Coast!

But my church leaders and pastor didn't give me any kudu’s. No pat on the back. No recognition. In fact my pastor said "Von, you are just the Pied Piper of kids, you snap your fingers and there they come".

Not true! I was working my tail off.

It seemed no one was grateful or could spare any encouragement!

I know! I know! I'm to be a humble servant working for the Lord, and that His "well done" should be sufficient.

My "pity party" continued for miles. Just the three of us: Me, Myself and I.

Then in a sudden and unexpected burst of honesty, I reviewed my own ministry and how I treated my own leaders. Those under me.

I was just as tough on them! They were working for the Lord, that should be sufficient. They could well be having their own "pity parties". I wanted tough hard working leaders, and I had them!

I actually felt like appreciation and encouragement from me were ... well ... a sign of weakness.

It took time for me, a hard working young activist, to understand just how important encouraging others was. I was hungry for it, but somehow I felt it was wrong!

The first standing ovation given me, left me completely frustrated. Being a conduit for God’s ovation felt, well, uncomfortable. It was to be a God thing, not a von thing.

I learned that changes in my perspective were necessary. I made changes based on the following verse.

The Word of God indicates that appreciation and encouragement are essential to a smooth running ministry.

"Encourage each other..." The Word says. (I Thess 5:11) Can't be more specific than this!

I found encouragement in ministry plays the important part of oil in a powerful, smooth running engine.

How obvious!

Oil in an engine isn't an optional liquid. Oil is essential to the smooth running engine ... and I needed to learn that the oil-of-encouragement ... kept the friction down and the ministry /engine lasting longer! Great lesson and so simple.

Brother, check your oil! It’s so easy to forget the need to regularly encourage one another.

The Holy oil of encouragement!

Hopefully each of us is growing in an attitude of gratitude and encouragement.

WORTHLESS?

"In that you've done it to the least of these, you've done it unto me ..." ~ Matthew 25:45

What did Jesus mean by "the least of these?" "Who did Jesus mean by the least of these?" Are we talking losers here? Worthless individuals. Someone who is simply poor or handicapped? A worthless fool who deserves his consequences?

We can talk about Jesus incognito, and that's an interesting concept, but to make that statement come alive we must be honest enough and courageous enough to define 'least'.

The way I read it, each of us will be judged on how we treat Jesus by treating 'least' people.

If that's true we need to know how God spells 'least'.

Are we who dedicate our ministry to working ground level with losers; the few and fallen ... are we but hopeful fools?

Am I Christian enough to look at a staggering drunk with compassion ... even love?

Are we simply fools, wasting time and money on the worthless.

Little Pepe with no working hands or feet is on one side of worthless ... and then Marcos, an unloved ten-year-old street kid addicted to his spray paint is the other side of worthless.

In a sense both are worthless ... but how does God look at our term "worthless?"

For that matter how many Christians are willing to give to a ministry to the ... worthless?

Scripturally, is there a worthless person in God's sight? For that matter is there a worthy person in God's sight? The answer to both questions is ... no.

We'll continue walking the streets mingling with normal sinners ... along with prime sinners; pimps and prostitutes and addicts to the pill, bottle and needle ... the unlovable, unloved and unlovely.

Our calling is to walk and talk with sinners on the smelly dirty streets of Zona.

Somewhere I hear a divine echo from 2000 years ago ...

"I came to minister to the sick and needy, not to the healthy or righteous." ~ Matthew 9:12, Mark 2:17, Luke 5:31

Today's lessons: 1. Go, learn what this means. 2. Come, join us.

SUBTLE BATTLE OF THE HORMONES

Last night twenty teen boys and I watched a rather uncomfortable video. Un-natural. Awkward.

In the film a half dozen skimpily clad and oh so shapely girls took on the world of ugly evil men, in high heels no less.

This film was obviously created and financed by a group of women's libbers, and /or homosexuals add a few metro-sexuals.

Gender benders!

The action packed video played out with an obvious agenda; Estrogen will ultimately win over and dominate testosterone!

I'm sitting there watching this fiasco with a room packed full of testosterone! Weird feeling.

These petite girls went up against ugly metal manlike robots three times their size and with little or no weapons they deftly skirted every deadly ray and sword swipe. Hurled and slammed around by these angry red-eyed giants the girls didn't suffer a scratch.

Whiz! Bang! Boom! Action Packed.!

Then the scene changed ... now the girls are facing men at war along with their powerful weapons. Up and down the trenches these girls went, in their high-heels ... dodging bullets bombs, hand-grenades and knives. Mercilessly shooting and bashing in the faces of hundreds of male soldiers. It was slaughter, it was bloody ... and these girls came out the obvious winners.

The spin of the video was so obviously Feminist that the boys groaned ... girls in, boys out. Mr. testosterone, we can do anything you can do and do it damn sight better!

Men, we don't need you!

Estrogen will be the winning hormone. It's testosterone that rapes, kills and fills our jails and prisons. It's testosterone that produces wars. It's testosterone that hunts and kills innocent people and animals. Out with testosterone!

Estrogen is an innocent baby pink, while testosterone is blood red!

Caution Feminists and Woman's Libbers! Caution Unisexers you're playing with dynamite!

When you mess with God defined genders there's trouble ahead.

Gender benders produce gender blunders!

Watch out girls, that you don't cut yourselves in your race to penetrate the "glass ceiling."

NOTE: Today's gender war started a few years back with a simple door! The door was titled "Women's liberation" ... women's freedom! We gentlemen stepped aside and opened the "Women's Liberation" door for you, as gentlemen do.

Our mistake? Big mistake!

We didn't see the sign on the other side of the "Women's Liberation" door that plainly read ... Men's Domination"!

Now the war is on, with what few "real" men we have.

EFFICIENT; A POWERFUL WORD!

Years ago, while working in the "private sector," Convair Aircraft Corp. I learned a lifetime lesson ... WORK!

I've had the privilege of working both the "Private sector" and the "Public sector" as they are called now.

In the "Private sector" it was obvious we were there to make money for the company. It was in the old days where if you didn't cut it, you were fired. You were "Given your notice" as they put it. So within your eight-hour shift you were to put in eight hours of work ... by their definition!

Our Boss would walk around the area in which we were working singing his little song while smacking his hand with his fist; Go! Go! ... Go! Go!! Go!!! Translated WORK!

I remember the times our Company hired outside "Efficiency Experts" to come in for a few days and "observe us."

I remember them well; dressed in suits looking very intelligent and businesslike; they carried clip-boards and watches ... they stood back for hours studying us and writing notes.

Have you ever been studied? It's a weird feeling.

None of us liked them or wanted them around, but there they were, standing quietly, and observing us. Watching our every move, including how many times we went to the bathroom as well as how long we stayed in the bathroom. If we went to get something, how long did it take; was it the quickest route.

To the efficiency expert it was always about time! Were we wasting Company time?

Then they would compile a report ... an evaluation; which went to the Company. After being evaluated, there would be changes based on their report. Changes!

No doubt, as much as we didn't like them, they made the Company more efficient. They knew their job and did it well. We became more competitive. Produced more dollars for the Company.

Now when the same Company entered into a Government contract there was a world of difference. Ah! There was money, manpower and employment ... and waste.

A time of relaxing.

In all my time working for the Government I never saw an efficiency expert. Of course not! On more than one occasion in fact, our boss would say, "get lost" or "look busy" ... take a hike. Too many men and not enough jobs.

Why is it our leaders won't look into the obvious? (The answer to that question reveals the degree of corruption in our leadership)

Why would they admit to making the dirty mess, let alone investigate it. (City, State and Federal )

The inefficiency, duplication, paperwork, waste and corruption in our Governments is legion. We've all experienced Government at City level, State level and Federal level.

Why won't we see the obvious?

We're tight on money?? Simple solution!

Bring in a few thousand efficiency experts and watch the money roll in as heads roll ... off and out.

Mr. President, maybe we should start by bringing an efficiency expert into your Oval Office. You up for it!

THE FOURTH-OF-JULY FIZZLED

This Fourth-of-July Weekend, I had the privilege of attending a grammar school graduation. The little auditorium was packed with squeaky clean Graduates and their proud parents and friends.

The ceremony began with everyone being asked to stand while eight kids on the right of the stage, with the flag held high, marched up the stairs and onto the stage. With military order they did a left face, and then took a few steps toward the center; the kid in the middle holding the big flag. The flag was then presented as everyone saluted and voiced together the salute to the flag.

The National Anthem was played and once again everyone saluted and sang together the anthem. They didn't just sing the anthem; they belted it out!

We were still standing, while another group of kids on the left marched down the other side of the auditorium, up the stairs and onto the stage to face the first group of flag bearers The second group received the flag, about faced and marched back down proudly holding the flag, while the first group on the right marched back into the auditorium.

We all were asked to be seated as the ceremony continued.

Indeed the Forth of July and patriotism go hand in hand in our great red, white and blue weekend! Or is that so?

I took the privilege of giving this story a little twist!

Surprise!

This graduation wasn't in our nation. These kids weren't saluting our flag or loudly singing our national anthem! Kids don't do that any more in our nation.

They were saluting the Mexican Flag and singing the Mexican National Anthem!

Standing proud, they sang and saluted with all their hearts!

Mexicans are patriotic! All year, 24/7, little Mexican flags are proudly waving over the humblest of shacks.

Isn't it a shame that I have to go to another nation to experience patriotic kids that are proud of their nation!

Our Fourth of July here in America simply means another Holiday! Barbecue, fireworks and sunburn.

If you don't believe it, just ask an average American kid.

Oh, I might add ... Mexicans don't come over here to be Americans, they come here to be Mexicans in America.

DOGGIE WALKERS

I live in a Condo, one in a large number of identical, status quo and politically correct condos. From my kitchen window I can see the street and walk ways. Green lawns, trees and bushes;

I have it all.

The only people action I see is dog walkers. People out walking their dogs ... and from time to time dogs out walking their owners. I walk the bay a couple of times a week and there I see more dog walkers.

Then there are the professional dog walkers taking up to six ... repeat, six dogs at a time. Chihuahuas to Dobermans old and young. These serious dog walkers and dogs generally walk slowly with a group of frustrated dogs on tangled leashes.

Oh yes! Professional walkers with their white rubber gloves and large doggie bags ... waiting for, and hoping for, the inevitable.

Now there are types. Dog types, people types and combination types.

Humans seem to want to get on with the walk while their "best friend" on the other hand ... well, he is interested in sniffing. Sniffing the grass, Sniffing the sidewalk. Sniffing the trees and bushes. Every dog is sniff oriented ... ranging from the short quick hurried sniffs to the long and thoughtful sniff.

The long thoughtful sniffer is most often jerked into reality by his owner

Some committed dog walkers are out for the walk, literally dragging their poor mutt behind ... sad and sniffless!

I notice many of the dogs today, unlike their owners, are de-balled, de-clawed, and de-flee-d ... but still happy as if they had good sense!

Doggie walk! Yipee. Sniff time! Pee time!

Yesterday I saw a sad sight. A very determined dog walker was leading his dog ... now I'm talking leading! His little dog was obviously a “has been” ... that is, he was once a male.

One thing a male or former male dog just has to do is pee on things. I mean it's in him and it's gotta get out! If something is pee-able, he will pee on it.

Sad sight ... nothing more pathetic than a dog on three legs, rear leg held high being dragged while peeing. He was hopping along on his three little legs peeing irresponsibly everywhere. Peeing in places no dog had ever pee'd on before!

Canine humiliation! Thoughtless canine cruelty!

THOSE HELD IN THE BLACK HOLE OF HELL

Admittedly we go where few go and reach down into pockets of filth! Human Jetsam! Interacting with those living in urine and vomit splashed alleys among scattered needles, bottles and old plastic sacks of paint and contact-cement.

People that come alive at night.

A smelly, dirty collection of people that no one wants to associate with, and for good reason. Who wants to invest in losers? Who wants to sow seeds in this weed patch? ... and who wants to support people who do?

Why do we go to this undeserving segment of society?

Why?

For God's sake! As Christians our light and ministry of love is meant to penetrate the darkness through the credibility earned by association with these people.

In the dark, where lights belong!

We aren't always accepted. We aren't always loved. Love and respect are earned and it isn't always easy.

And more than that, it takes time.

One thing for sure, Christians are not called to be a light seated corporally forming a candelabra of incredible divine wattage under a cross.

Indeed there needs to be a time for "church"; there is a time for worship, for meetings and Bible study" BUT there is a time that we Christians should simply BE THE CHURCH; His people scattered like salt among the world ... scattered like lights in the darkness.

God's random, yet Divine method. A method that still puzzles Theologians.

Sounds a little like the Believers back in the Antioch days. in those days Believers didn't hide in a building waiting for "seekers" ... somehow they were taught that the Church was them. (Acts 26:28)

The world could see the difference because it was obvious. And our name "Christian" began.

It's time again, that the world sees Christians in action.