My New Hobby

So, at the ripe old age of almost 30, I decided to take on Mountain Biking. And it is kicking my Ass. I went for a ride today in the woods by the river near my house. I ended up doing to endos, which stands for end over end. Which means I flew over the bike, hit the ground, and for the cherry on top, had the bike fly on top of me. Twice! Then in fit of brilliance I went on a trail crossover with ramps.

Down the first hill, hit the first ramp, smile on my face. I catch air, my bike goes to the right, and I to the left. As a man, I can't let the trail win, so I dust myself off, put myself on the bike and set my face, determined to give it another go. Same trail and same result.

This time I land on my wrist and the bike falls behind me. I lay on the ground for a while looking up admiring the trees and thanking God that I am ok. This time I let the trail win and go home.

My wife asks me why I started such a round and dangerous hobby this late in life. I tell I don't know, but I have fun and ride by a motto, "Ride Hard and Fall Hard." The falling hard part I got down. I just need to work on the riding hard part. But I will get it.

Chicken or the Church

Have you ever noticed how the high crime areas tend to have more churches per ca pita? At least, in Shreveport, it seems this way. It begs the questions, though, Which came first, the church or the crime?

I am sure there is a "book turning" sociology paper published in some dark, moldy section of an unpopulated library with their version of the correct answer. But, if it demands research, I am almost not interested.

It is fun to pontificate about though. I wonder if a group got together and said "Crime is too much, we must fight it. I know, lets build a church, a beacon of hope." And if they did this did the dissenting faction say "If they are going to build a church, then we are too." So that eventually small ones were on every block and larger facilities lined the main roads. Or was it the opposite way.

"Man, this part of town has too many churches, lets rock things up." Then the crime/gangs move in. Wouldn't it be interesting if their colors changed with the liturgical calender, deep purples, reds and an occasional rainbow. That could prove decidedly hazardous to any preacher on the pulpit, sporting the stohl of the day.

The area of my mind consumed with nonsense like the chicken and the egg, will now have to make room for the parable of the churches and the crime. Now I must go repent. I am fearing damnation of trivializing intercity churches or maybe I should be more concerned with making fun of gangstas.

Return to Old

In this day of texting, tweats, facebook, smart phones and the like, we have lost sight of our good old fashion roots. And, as expected, without proper apprciation of where we have been, we can not truely move forward as humanbeings. As such, this is an homage to the old days of Billy the Kid, John Wayne, and slower times

MADE IT HOME FROM VACATION STOP
MONTANA IS THE WILD WEST STOP
CAN NOT WAIT TO GO BACK STOP
PRICE ON MY HEAD THOUGH STOP
DO NOT KNOW WHEN THAT WILL BE STOP

I think Western Union would be proud.