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Since Jun 19, 2009

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God Bless America!

Everybody has a dream. My dream, which at this point in my life will probably never happen (oh Well) is to ride across America on my Harley. The most important part of the journey of my dreams is to ride Rt 66, The Famous “Mother Road” of American Legend. Since my bike, Rt 66, and my body are all old and falling apart, I guess I will have to live my dream in a song I wrote several years ago. Here are the Lyrics:

THE MOTHER ROAD
by ML/LTOS c1995

My girlfriend lives in Missouri, on the outskirts of St. Lou.
She fights the River every spring, like all her neighbors do
She’s been to Tahiti, and she loves to figure skate.
She says I’ll always have a place to sleep if I’m ever in her state.

(CHORUS)
I’ll always have a place to stay
When I ride the Mother Road.
At every stop along the way,
I find an open door.
My friends all think that I’m crazy,
But They love me anyway.
And when I ride that Mother Road,
I’ll always have a place to stay.

My cousin lives near Tulsa, right off Rt 66,
In the home town of Will Rogers, in the Oklahoma sticks.
There ain’t a musical instr’ment that the gal can’t play!
She says I’ll always have a place to sleep, if I’m ever out that way.

(CHORUS)
I’ll always have a place to stay
When I ride the Mother Road.
At every stop along the way,
I find an open door.
My friends all think that I’m crazy,
But They love me anyway.
And when I ride that Mother Road,
I’ll always have a place to stay.

(Bridge)
Old Motel on the auction block
Ancient Symbols carved in the rock
Big empty sky, except for a hawk
Looks like someone turned back the clock!
(instrumental solo)

My uncle lives in Texas, and that’s music to my ears.
He once traced his ancestry back to the Trail of Tears
he likes to sleep in the desert, and dance out under the stars.
He says I’ll always have a place to sleep “IF I EVER GET THAT FAR!”

(CHORUS)
I’ll always have a place to stay
When I ride the Mother Road.
At every stop along the way,
I find an open door.
My friends all think that I’m crazy,
But They love me anyway.
And when I ride that Mother Road,
I’ll always have a place to stay.

_____________________________________________________________________________

14. (The Knock on the Door)

12/19/19 | left that other site

Posted on 12/19/2019, 9:55:00 AM by left that other site

The activist spent a sleepless night after the cataclysmic events of the day. Surely the bold actions of his heroes earlier would elicit deadly retribution from the cruel dictator who had somehow gained ascendancy in his beloved land. He knew that, even though he had always carefully masked himself during operations, the Government HAD to have his name on a “LIST”, and knew his every move.

Fitfully, he clutched his smart phone close to his body, even though he knew that the Secret Police could easily track him by its signal. He needed it to stay in touch with Social Media and keep abreast of the unfolding events. It was amazing that the evil powers-that-be had not yet cut off his link to the outside world, but perhaps they were just cruelly enjoying his tweets before they came in for the kill.

Although it was nice and warm in his parents’ basement, the activist found himself in a cold sweat. This was pure, naked fear, that even binge-watching his favorite shows on Netflix could not assuage. The 56” Plasma Flat Screen TV filled the room with a rosy glow that did nothing to diminish his terror.

He knew from the History Channel that the 20th-Century Hitler liquidated his opponents shortly after his elevation to high office, so there was an historical precedent to what was bound to happen again this very night. After all, this was just like back then...the new Chief Executive was “Literally Hitler”. What was surprising was that he was taking so long to have his own “Night of the Long Knives.” Well, after yesterday’s performance in the Legislative Assembly, it was bound to happen this very night!

And so, he huddled, cravenly, waiting for the fatal knock on the door. Perhaps he might escape his grisly fate because of his parents. They sheltered him, but they were mind-numbed fascist robots who wore red hats and supported the evil orange man. But no...Hitler actually killed some of his old friends and comrades in the “Night of the Long Knives”, so “Literally Hitler” wouldn’t have any issue with killing his parents as well. Serves them right for voting for him!

He searched his smart phone and his cable for news of the Capital Building burning to the ground overnight. That would be a perfect tactic for the evil, fascist, nazi orange man, and he could easily use the Media (over which he had total control) to blame the fire on Jews, Communists, Democrats, or even Antifa. The fear crept into his bones.

Upstairs, he could hear his parents decorating the house for Christmas. They were going all-out this year, as Dad was finally able to save his house and pay off the mortgage. This was due to the fact that he was able to end years of unemployment and oppressive taxes with a new job that used his skills. The last three years had been prosperous, and the family was finally “out of the hole”. The activist could have gotten several jobs as well, because there were “HELP WANTED” signs all over town. But his work with the resistance was more important.

The night wore on. The activist grew more and more anxious. Where were the police? The singing of Christmas Carols echoed through the floorboards over his head. It was obnoxious. The TV showed Jewelry Commercials with a man proposing marriage to a beautiful cisgender female and presenting her with diamonds. The Christmas lights that Dad had festooned on the shrubs glittered on the frosty basement window. The smart phone twittered with angry profane tweets about the evil fascist dictator...and still there was no knock on the door.

HE’S PLAYING WITH US! HE’S MAKING US SUFFER! WHY DOESN’T HE JUST GET IT OVER WITH! I’M NOT AFRAID TO DIE! The torture was excruciating.

Suddenly...there was a soft tapping on the door.

OMG! THEY’RE HERE!

Then a voice said:

“Bobby, Mom has made bacon and eggs and home-made waffles for breakfast. C’mon upstairs.”

_______________________________________________________________________________

(The messiah’s Been Cancelled)
Perhaps today’s little story has nothing to do with today’s Psalm, but it all just happened, so here goes.

For weeks I have been planning to attend a “Singalong Messiah” at a very old typical New England style church (complete with white board siding and a tall steeple), a good 39 miles from my house, almost to Cape Cod. It was only $10.00, and they would let you borrow a vocal score. A renowned organist would be providing the accompaniment, and four local soloists and a choir were leading the singing. From the moment I saw the ad on a bulletin board in my local post office I WANTED to go.

First, I asked one of my sisters. She said it sounded nice, and maybe she would go but she wasn’t sure. OK. I asked another sister but she said that she couldn’t read music and would be embarrassed if she sang it wrong. Then I asked two girlfriends but they lived so far from the Cape that travel in December would be a problem.

Then I asked Marie. Marie is a new neighbor of mine, is eighty years old, plays viola in TWO symphony orchestras and sings in a community chorus. I told her that the church would provide the sheet music.

“That’s OK. I have my own complete vocal score!” she said, rummaging through a box and producing something that looked like a phone book. OK...so it’s you and me, Marie. I’ll do the driving, pick up my sister on the way, we’ll grab something quick to eat (but not too much if we’re singing) and we’ll make it happen! This was going to be AWESOME, and a lot cheaper than going into Boston to see “The Nutcracker”. (and, I may add, more in line with the true meaning of Christmas). So, anyway, the day finally approached. In the interim, Marie fractured a vertebrae in her lower back and was on pain meds, and my sister’s grandson suffered a fall in school resulting in a concussion that had her spending the entire day in the ER. I was having issues with some of my clients, and was getting discouraged about my job. It looked like the event wasn’t going to happen.

Sis called me with plenty of leeway to say she really needed to stay home. I was afraid Marie was going to bow out too, but she just grabbed her walker and her vocal score and said “Let’s Go.”

So Marie and I had a nice light dinner salad and then we drove down the long, icy highway to the church. There were several cars in the parking lot, all full of senior citizens, but the church was dark and locked up. A young woman went from car to car and said

“The Messiah’s been CANCELLED. We posted it on Facebook. So sorry. Here are some tickets for next year.”

GRRRRRRRRRRR. Oh well. So I drove home a different way, through all the dark, curvy, country roads that have become familiar to me from my motorcycle adventures. Usually, these unlit roads require high-beams, as there are no streetlights or well-lit towns around. But last night, they were ablaze with Christmas Lights, each home more gloriously decorated than the one previous. House after house, display after display. Marie and I were delighted, and made jokes and puns about the cancellation. Like:

“You CAN’T cancel The Messiah! He’s going to come whether you like it or not!”

“Why did they cancel The Messiah? Because the organist didn’t know the score.”

“Because the soloists couldn’t Handel it”.

“Because the Choir went out Christmas Chopin.”

“Because Santa put the conductor on the “Naughty Liszt”.

Marie and I were alternately laughing with joy and being enchanted by the lights. It was one of the most joyous little celebrations I can remember, as we rode through the bright, prosperous, happy, optimistic, Christmasy Traditional New England landscape. Suddenly as I turned onto the main road, there was a huge store-front shining like a beacon at the end of our journey. The storefront was lit up like a giant Christmas Tree with a HUGE sign:

TRUMP 2020 CAMPAIGN HEADQUARTERS

I don’t know...could all this stuff be related?

Now, let’s look at the Psalm. It speaks of the joy and trust that is there in the shelter of the Lord. The metaphor of “wings” gives us a beautiful picture of a bird protecting her little ones . Jesus used that metaphor too, and it is lovely. When things look their darkest, it’s easy to be angry and have feelings of futility. But just remember...the Messiah has NOT been cancelled. Even if Facebook says it has.

HALLELUJAH!

Oh wow...look what I found in an image search. It is a prayer i wrote back in 2010.


Our Father In Heaven 
Hallowed Be Your Name.
How we long for Your Kingdom to Come,
And For Your Will To Be Done Here on Earth,
Just As It Is In Heaven.
We Lift Up Our American Heroes To You,
And Humbly Ask That You Touch Their Hearts,
So That They Will believe and Be Justified According to Your Word.
We Pray That You Will Be For Them
So That NOBODY can stand against Them.


We ask that You open the eyes of Your people.
Please, we Pray,
Give Us All Insight to Your Will For Our Land.
We pray for Our Nations Economy.
We pray for those without jobs,
that You will bring back Our Nation's Productivity and Initiative.
We ask You to help find dignified and appropriate work for those who seek it.
We pray for Our Free Enterprise System,
that it will not be submerged in outmoded and discredited socialism.
Father, We Pray for Our Beloved American Heroes and Their Families.
We Pray for Strong and Godly Wisdom to Guide Us.
Touch Every American's Heart,
So That Each and Every One Will Say A Prayer For Our American Heroes,
Lifting Them and Their families up in Prayer and Support,
Let Nobody Forget Their Sacrifice For our Freedom!

Keep Us Vigilant,
In Jesus Name.
Amen.

For Our Beloved Troops

Our Father,
Who Art In Heaven,
Blessed and Hallowed Be Your Most Holy Name!
You Are My Refuge and my Strength,
My very Present Help In Times Of trouble.
Your Are The One Who trains My Hands For War,
and Comforts My Heart in times of Stress.
You Are My Rock and My Redeemer,
My Strength and My Song,
My Fortress and My High Tower,
My Sword and My Shield.
I Will Not Fear The Enemy,
For If You Be With me,
Who Can Stand Against me?
For It Is Not By Might,
Not By Power,
and Not even by superior firepower and technology
that we shall overcome,
but By Your Holy Spirit,
Precious LORD, My God!
You Alone are My Strength and Song.
Some trust in Chariots,
Some in Horses,
but I depend upon You,
and You Alone.
Keep Me in Your Tender Care, Dear Father,
Keep Me In That Secret Place Under Your Wing.
Cover me With Your Feathers,
Make Me invisible to the enemy.
Keep me silent when I need to be silent,
Strong when I need to be strong,
Yielding when I need to be Yielding.
Give me the full Support and Prayers
of my People and my Government,
so I will not feel abandoned or alone.
Give me Wisdom and Power in the face of evil,
and Compassion and Kindness when it is called for
Lead me not into temptation,
and guard my heart and mind from depression,
anxiety,
loneliness,
frustration,
worry,
false religion,
and evil thoughts,
that I may be a righteous warrior for You and My People.

This I Pray in the Name Of Jesus.