CHARLIE BROWN, WHERE ARE YOU?

Christmas means different things to different people. To the secular world around us, Christmas is a colorful, fun filled party ... especially when you get ‘high' enough to enjoy it ... to the business man it's simply $s. To the true Christian it's a Birthday Celebration, God's Gift day. As mature Christians we see it so differently ... but as kids, well we have an exciting immature view.

I've always enjoyed the season of Christmas, as well as the true meaning of Christmas ... but Easter's my day!) As a kid the Christmas tree with all of it's colorful ornaments meant so much. I even believed in Fat Old Santa ... until I realized there were so many fat Santa's and not one could possibly get down our small stove pipe with any presents. (At least none did.)

As kids, though very poor, we always had a Christmas tree of sorts; being poor our trees were bought late and often visibly handicapped, and shortly after Christmas they would get bald. However we always had a gift for my sister and I ... not many, but at least one gift.

We were poor.

That's why my heart goes out to our kids in Mexico. They want a tree so bad, but this year money is tight to non-existent.

Brandon, ten years old, saved up his money, and went to the "dollar store" yesterday, where he bought a plastic one for $5. This bargain one I'll have to see. (The family is thrilled about their Christmas tree.)

Abraham, in part of his conversation said the dog ate their plastic Christmas tree last year and financially the family isn't doing well, so they won't be getting one this year.

Joshua and his brothers and sisters might be fortunate to make a Christmas dinner of tamales on their outside stove. How they would love a tree. (Some families use bushes, now that's creative.)

I could list family after family where the kids would love to have, and decorate, their own little tree.

But this year food will have to be the priority. We'll be doing good if we can even buy food and tarps for families.

Reality makes a real Christmas tree impossible ... a small Chinese plastic tree ... maybe.

While a tree is nice, it isn't essential; food is.

While gifts are nice, believe it or not the kids would rather have a tree to decorate.

Anyone have an extra Christmas tree? ... even a Charlie Brown Christmas tree?

FACT, FICTION ... OR LIES!

All of us exaggerate. Well, I guess that statement is an exaggeration in itself. Better said, most of us exaggerate from time to time.

It's hard not to fall into exaggeration when we are passionately trying to put our point across.

On occasion a lie may even slip our lips.

Best example of the use and abuse of exaggeration is our politicians and how often they twist and exaggerate to put their point across.

Exaggeration isn't quite lying, but it comes close. Of course we know politicians don't lie, they simply "miss-speak!"

Take our politicians reckless and often irresponsible use of statistics, surveys, polls and studies ... the constant drum-beat of...

"America says... " or "Our people demand that..." or "The latest poll indicates... " or "Statistics say..." or ... "ad nauseam."

For some reason "statistics, polls and studies," are a trinity of sacred words; never expected to be questioned ... and these so called "statistics" carry a powerful punch of authority!

Our politicians toss these figures around like "divine" set of loaded dice on the dirty table of deception.

Without doubt there are those who are Believers in our system ... but just as surely, there are the millions of us who are rapidly becoming unbelievers ... those of us who dare to doubt!

A MITE SHORT OF IRRESPONSIBLE?

Another painful question. Is trusting God responsible?

I see the two stories of the widow giving her two mites; all she owned, as a lesson on truly trusting God. (Ex. Mrk.12:41+)

We like this story; it's food for thought. But taking it literally? We don't think so. Sacrificial giving is ... well ... simply irresponsible. Few of us dare look honestly at the story ... Jesus can't mean this to be an example ... better a concept of extremes. Can we dare make a doctrine of this?

Most of us find this story to be somewhere between a stumbling block and a hook. Rightly so.

Giving to the point of jeopardizing my way of life or effecting my lifestyle ... or worse yet, jeopardizing my security?? Oh no!

The widow simply proved her trust in God. This begs another question; is trusting God irresponsible? To many of us those questions are irritating ... instead of the Word of God we are prone to grab the word of good old Ben Franklin; "God helps those who help themselves!" Trusting Ben makes sense, unfortunately trusting God doesn't. True or not?

"Trust and Obey" ... near impossible for most of us. We don't mind singing the hymn, but don't ask us to actually do it! How many of the hymns we sing, do we actually believe?

Bill was a good friend of mine, I knew him to be very wealthy.

He was a Christian and a big giver to his Church and charities. He too often came to me with a pitch for investing in a good charity. He tended to obligate me. "Just ten dollars a month for a year..."

Now I was a Youth Worker on a Church salary just above food-stamps. I was giving over 10% to our Church and also giving to a variety of missionaries and of course giving in Mexico. I could barely afford gas money.

But here comes Bill pushing another of his charities.

One day I got tired of this obligating me bit, and pulled him aside presenting him with a deal. "Bill, I'll make a deal with you. I'll give everything I have; my savings, my life insurance ... EVERYTHING, to the charity of your choice, IF you will give EVERYTHING you have to the same charity!"

He paused, looked at me and gave a wry little smile ... he simply said "I'm not that mature yet." I knew I didn't risk anything with that deal. Bill was a good Christian man, a generous giver but not nearly a sacrificial giver. He wasn't in danger of effecting his lifestyle. No way. Did he give me the right answer? He was truthful.

We have 13,000 people starving in the horn of Africa. I have families actually starving in Mexico. There are dirt poor people in the world (And they're not in America!)

Big givers where are you?

Challenge, try making an "irresponsible" gift to the poorer than you, and see if you can't double your profit. (In the Kingdom.)

THE ANIMATED PASTOR VON

While I visiting Hawaii a few months ago, I spent some time with my buddy Tom Finley, Children’s Ministry Director at Kauai Christian Fellowship, one of the largest Churches in Kauai. I did a handful of simple stories for him to use on his web site.

The guy is outrageously creative.

He showed me what he had done with these short stories. I was impressed, not only with the cartooned stories but with the technology of today.

Just for fun, you might want to check out the following videos, and hear (and see) the old man some stories as an animated cartoon.

• Tales from Pastor Von: Faith
• Tales from Pastor Von: Learning
• Tales from Pastor Von: Consequences
• Tales from Pastor Von: Courage
• Tales from Pastor Von: Fools

Cheers!

P.S. I've also had these videos placed on the Missionary Adventures section of my web site.

BEING HELPED AS I GO DOWN THE STAIRS

Going downhill? Getting older? The golden years? Ah, the winter years. There are many terms for aging. Each of them adding a little description to what the process is to be.

I was reminded yesterday.

In Tijuana, as I was going down eleven steep rickety stairs a couple of kids scrambled up the stairs to help me; one on either side, 'helping me'. "Be careful von," one said. With each step I was feeling a growing conflict of emotions. "The strong champion of the poor, Pastor von" being helped by the poor. I was actually angered by someone trying to help me. 'Von.' becoming old and frail ... and having to be helped. I envied the past and now I was angered at the present and the coming future.

Fighting the reality of ... stairs down.

The resident pride of an old "independent" man fights against the love and thoughtfulness of others ... simply trying to be of help.

The poor that I'm there to help, are now helping me! Somehow this isn't right.

As I stepped slowly and carefully down the steps; these two strong feelings were struggling. Feelings that were in conflict with one another.

Winning the struggle was, and had to be, a genuine appreciation for the love and respect these kids had for me, and thankfulness for their concern ... and willingness to help a man getting old.

To be honest, to me helping others feels good ... being helped doesn't ... somewhere on these downhill steps, is a lesson I have to learn ... to accept.

WITH GOD WE EACH, WE ALL, HAVE A VALUE

I find it rewarding teaching in Tijuana's prison for teens. Here at the CMI I actually have a "captive" audience.

As my group of incarcerated teens quieted down and looked on ... I took a dollar bill from my pocket, Immediately getting their attention. Money! A U.S. dollar! I took the dollar bill; held it up and talked about the value of this fragile piece of special paper.

"What could you buy with this dollar?" I asked.

Then I surprised the kids by knifing it with a small knife I had hidden in my pocket; then I threw the bill down to the floor and stomped on it;

All eyes were following me.

I picked my dollar up and spit on it; placing the dollar bill against the wall I hit it hard; then crumpled it in my fist, after crumpling it, I tore a portion of my dollar ... each occasion I abused my dollar, I stopped and asked my young bunch of criminals ... "does this dollar still have a value?"

The answer was always "yes".

I told the boys "you see, the value of this dollar was set by the dollar maker. No matter how I abuse it ... it holds it's value."

"God made you, and you are of many times more value than this little paper dollar."

The lesson was needed.

Throughout these boy's lives they had been abused. Their parent or parents have abused them. Police abuse them. In the prison the guards abused them. Their gang have abused them. I've seen the abuse of these kids with my own eyes. Indeed, there is a lot of abuse in the world of the Tijuana poor. The name of the game is abuse. You give and you take!

This short lesson was simple. No matter how you have been treated, you still have a value with God. He made you and he set your value.

You, as a person, have a great value!

Oh, and by the way; the person you yourself injure or kill, has a value with God his maker too. And you will give an account of what you did ... to the property of Almighty God.

Don't ever forget the lesson of this little old beat up dollar bill.

POVERTY?

It's apparent that the over-whelming cloud of millions of poor, obscures the guilt of personal responsibility. Statistics of over two or three people seem to lose their humanity; returning to what they are ... simply statistics; comforting black and white numbers and zeros. Numbers left in the world of text.

Erasing healthy guilt and bringing us to a comfortable conclusion, because I can't do everything ... I can do nothing.

Some statistics bothered me as I read the October issue of Time Magazine. The growth of American poverty. Is it 15% now? In the article it says that an American family of four is at poverty level if they make less than $22,000.00 a year.

Poverty? $22,000.00 plus food-stamps? Poverty?

I know poverty. I know what it looks like. I know what it smells like. (As a kid I knew what it felt like.)

I work 100 yards on the south side of America. Tijuana; where a family of four, six or eight might make $5,000.00 a year and no food stamps. Most make much less.

Thanksgiving is coming to America in a matter of days. Thanksgiving is an appropriate Holiday for America ... indeed America has been blessed of God. We need to be grateful and most of us are.

To set aside a day to thank God is good... but to set aside a day to gorge ourselves in the name of gratefulness isn't ... not when my neighbors are eating two meals a day and buying tortillas five or six at a time.

All over the world there is hunger, except at my table!

To thank God is good ... to share, even better.

Taking this Thanksgiving Holiday for a teaching day ... teaching the family not only THANKS, but GIVING too!

Indeed we have the privilege of giving! PTL!

HALLOWEEN

Tonight, the dark night of death and danger.

It's Halloween, when America's obsession with dark and death comes alive. The lovely houses along the street are decorated with spider webs, tomb stones, witches, skulls and bones of the dead.

"Honey, isn't it fun noodling through the graveyard to get to the doorway?"

This is the night concerned mothers are frantically checking the Internet to find where the local sex-offenders live ... "Now kids, watch the bushes, a pedophile may jump out and grab you."

Tonight "trick or treat-ers" are hitting the best houses for a "freebie" a chocolate bite of the good life. The pros already have the spots picked out from last year. (Good example of the rich giving to the poor!)

Concerned mothers in my neighborhood are out before dusk holding the hands of their children, ranging in age from six to eighteen. Mama knows best when it comes to a dangerous night like this. A car could hit my eighteen year old, he's a real clutz!

The costumes are cute too. . thanks to Walmart and Target the kids are out in colorful costume. The little devils, witches and monsters in appropriate costumes.

Many of them with little bags for the freebies, others, more optimistic, carry a couple of grocery bags each.

Driving home I saw a "retired police" car cruising the streets looking for ... any suspicious male in the neighborhood.

We are safe, safe, safe here!

Mama, what's that? Oh honey, that's a man's ribcage when he isn't in it. Mama, does daddy have one?

Honey, keep walking!

So the night of America's romance with the dark of demons, devils, witches and death continues on. . will we ever get enough of darkness? ... sorry Halloween-ers, but my day is Easter! Easter Sunday morning is coming and light trumps darkness. PTL !

JULIO, WITH THE THICK GLASSES

Julio, about eleven, would come in with forty or fifty other boys every third Thursday and take his shower. Each time he would hand me those thick glasses ... "Hold these for me von ..." I would give him some shampoo and shower him down. Then give him his towel and glasses. His glasses kept getting worse, until they were literally held together with tape and rubber-bands. The big thick glasses would sort of hang over his nose. He had to sit in a front desk in school to even see the black-board.

Julio wasn't doing well at school.

One bath day, I asked him for his glasses, and took them with me across the border and went to Lens-Crafters to buy Julio another pair, but the clerk said he would have to see an optometrist first. I told the clerk, he lived in Tijuana and a little of what Spectrum was doing with poor kids and Lens-Crafter's made an exception making him a new, heavy duty pair ... free!

The following week I found him and gave him his brand new pair of glasses.

He gave me a wide smile; now he could see!

A few days later he was near tears as he showed me what was left of his new pair of glasses. The gang ripped the glasses off Julio and threw them on the cement basket-ball court, grinding the thick lenses against the cement with their shoes scratching the new lenses and then twisted and pulled the glasses apart.

Again, I took the remains to Lens-Crafters. I told them the story ... and once more they made me another pair that was even stronger ... for free.

Three pairs of destroyed glasses later the gang no longer bothered the near blind boy.

He was accepted.

As it is.

SOLUTION TO POVERTY?

The conclusion of many of our visitors to the Mexican areas of poverty we take them into ... when they actually see blatant poverty ... the sight is ugly and the solution seems overwhelming!

After many questions, their defense becomes apparent; "because I can't do everything I can do nothing" and they comfortably retreat from all responsibility.

A cold intelligent mind has a way of trumping ... emotions like compassion and kindness!

In my book this is simply an intellectual cop-out! Sometimes the only way to fill that impossible gap of need, is by doing a lot of smaller "some-things" and forgetting the overwhelming "every-things" . While I may have no solution for tomorrow, Compassion calls on me to make their day ... today!

Is that wrong?

Today I met a poor scrawny dog in Mexico. Nothing but skin, bones and fleas. Hungry, hungry! I called her over and fed her some dog food ... boy did she gulp it down! And it's true I couldn't really help her, BUT I sure made her day! The motive for feeding this pathetic dog, is called compassion ... just being kind!

Have you ever felt compassion? Are you a kind person? Questions few people will honestly answer. (For good reason.)

Some of my academic friends when visiting my world, and they mean so well, tell me..."Von, It's far better to teach a man to fish, than give him a fish meal." It sounds so intelligent. . .so academic . . . so right. Until I remind the scholar there is no water around.

His intelligent response? OH! You see at this point we are all they have.

I'VE GOT A SECRET!

I remember when I first went into the prison for Tijuana's kids, to teach them about God's Word; I carried the Bible. Walked into the big room. The kid's response was immediate and, well ... bad. Very bad!

I was evidently seen as another one of the many eager evangelists hot to "save" everyone following a loud and long message.

A literal "captive audience."

I thought and thought and finally decided to use the Indiana Jones approach. I have about 30 years worth of exotic artifacts hanging around ... why not use them!!

First you have to get the kids attention and respect, what better way then bring the Amazon jungle and tiger stories to them.

I remember walking into the cage full of these teenage "tigers" with a Bible, shrunken head, and a few BIG bugs. And, boy I had a following immediately! Even the guards were open.

I imagine through the years many missionaries thought I was weird collecting all of these artifacts, but they have been worth their weight in gold.

One afternoon I drove to the Tijuana dump to see some of my friends, driving around and through the trash I locate six or seven friends. These people are dirty, sweating and look tough. I forgot I had several artifacts on my back seat to use in a missionary study later that night.

Well, my friends spotted these weird objects and before long we had about twenty workers surrounding my little Volkswagen Van, they were fascinated ... the items soon disappeared going all direction, while I'm yelling "Be Careful!!"

But these big tough guys tenderly held the artifacts in their large dirty, hands'

These adults, even those I didn't know, became friendly and like children wanting to know all about the objects.

That afternoon I made many new friends at the dump. Artifacts bring a unique opportunity to share stories and the Gospel.

Oh, and I didn't lose one artifact! They brought ‘em all back.

When people believe you ... they tend to believe your message,

PLEASE GOD, HEAL VON

The kids in Barrio Pedrigal asked Hortensia where I was, as I hadn't been down in their neighborhood for a week. She told them that I was at home sick with a cough. Pedrigal is a small poor and dirty neighborhood; we could add dangerous too, lots of drugs; lots of tough teens.

The kids there have a real love for me.

Ten year old Brandon was evidently concerned about me being sick. He nor his family are "religious" but he knew about praying.

Yesterday was a rainy, cold day ... Brandon put on his jacket and went out looking for a church to pray in. He walked the muddy road about a mile and found a big Catholic Church. He opened the door, stepped inside ... the church was empty ... Brandon walked slowly to the front of this awesome room, got on his knees and prayed for me to get well.

Later he told Hortensia about his prayer, she smiled and had chance to share with him about praying to God and that you don't need to be in church building to talk to God.

How humbling to have a little boy with that much love, pray for you the best way he knew how.

CACTUS "MEDIUM RARE"

Barbecued cactus. That's what was on the plate the little girl was holding up to me, the darkness fooled me, I thought it was Carne Asada (thin barbecued steak). How could they afford this much steak, I thought.

As I took a bite, I realized it was hot barbecued cactus. This sample was enough.

I was outside the house "in the kitchen" with the family. Mother was busy cooking more "Nopales Asada" on their makeshift stove. The little stove was fueled by wood and cardboard found around the area. The kids each had a plate and were sitting on things in the dark near the stove. The meal tonight for all six kids, mom and dad was simply cactus ... with some lemon juice on top.

It's OK if you grow up on it, if you didn't ... well, I'll pass with a sample.

I noticed a well worn broomstick laying near their big plastic tub full of cold soapy water and clothing. The broomstick had the top of a plastic cola bottle wired to the end, forming a small plastic funnel. This was the plunger mother uses to wash the clothing in her plastic tub.

It was late and I carefully climbed up four old shaking wooden stairs and another three tire stairs buried in the dirt, soon I was on the road walking to my car. It was very dark.

Slowly driving up the dirt road, my lights reveled a young man with his kids walking toward me. "Hey von" He yelled. "my boy is covered with sores, can you help me?" I stopped, got out with my flashlight, and went for my medicine bag. Inside I found a tube of medicine. Scabies is quite common among poor and dirty people. The older boy stripped his little brother down and I slathered the cream over the sores. They thanked me; one of the boys paused to hug me, and the family continued on down the road disappearing in the darkness.

TIME WAS ...

Three bucks an hour was good pay in my day. I worked for Convair Aircraft Corp as a mechanic for most of fifteen years. We built military jets and passenger jets. Convair airliners were great airliners. From the 240's to the 880's and 990's.

The 990 was a sleek jet, labeled, at the time, the world's fastest jetliner, but, uh. oh ... engineering failed! The 990 was sold to a speck they couldn't deliver. To modify those already sold cost the Company millions. Busted!

Convair, a privately owned Corporation, was failing. Heads rolled! Quickly, pink-slips were handed out. Workers went out the door in droves. Convair started cutting to the bone! From the top on down; every supervisor went down in rank. I remember well, supervisors had red buttons, we workers had yellow buttons.

Soon us old timers were working with our X-supervisors who now had yellow buttons. Yep, cut to the bone.

And then, I got my pink slip and also went out the door.

Things are different in the private sector. With no income, things radically change! Workers leave, and dead-beat Supervisors are put to work. Adjustments from top down! No more fat!

But that's the private sector where work gets accomplished.

Now lets look at the public sector (Government). Let's compare.

I'm amazed at how desperate the Government is for MORE revenue. Just another "hit" America ... another "hit!"

PLEASE, NO ADDITIONAL REVENUE TO FEED OUR BLOATED STARVING GOVERNMENT BUREAUCRACY! The public sector is fat! No more drugs for this out of control addict! Let them whine.

"Can" the dead-beats and move on.

With no income, the Government would be FORCED TO FACE THEIR PROBLEM ... not our problem. Forced to cut their redundancy, corruption and incompetence.

Giving the Government more $'s, simply justifies the present system.

Unfortunately, if worse comes to worse, they can print their own money ... and that's more than we can do.

THE POOR NEXT DOOR

As Jesus said "The poor we will have with us always..." True enough.

However today it might be said "The poor they will have with them always." "Their" responsibility.  The truly poor are not in the United States; the truly poor are millions, living a comfortably exotic  distance away ... a world away and viewed at our discretion. If the pictures are too graphic or start laying guilt on us, we have but to turn the page or change the channel.

Viewer discretion urged.

Indeed the truly poor are "their" problem, not ours. Their distance diminishes our guilt.

Unfortunately and unbelievably, many of the truly poor live quietly, invisibly, right across our border with Mexico and are too near to draw our attention but not far enough to be exotic; a dilemma to all of us working with these families on the border.

We are simply "over-looked."

The Mexican border is known for violence ... but not poverty.

It's the kids that catch our heart! Hundreds of them. It wasn't their decision to enter this dirty, hungry world, yet they rarely complain.

Yesterday, a very poor ten year old boy helped us a we worked with this poor family of seven living on a dusty dirty hillside. As we were driving away Abraham said " wow, that family was really poor, poorer then us ..."

We (Spectrum Ministries) have been taking care of the poor here on the Tijuana border for more than twenty-five years ... as our U.S. economy sinks, so have our donations. Our Doctor who freely treats and advises the people . . .we can't even afford cough medicine. No more help on medical surgeries. No more help with shoes and uniforms and books for those kids wishing to go to school. Without the proper shoes and uniform kids are barred from attending school. Tarps for leaky roofs are in short supply. No more help on rent money. No more "Ensure" drink for Pepe.

We get so many requests; what really hurts is when someone requests needed help, and the answer has to be "No" ... Having them give you a half smile, look down and say "That's Okay" ... and walk away with their kids following.

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.