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Grocery shopping is what you make of it. For some it is a boring necessity in life. Yet, for others it is the hunting adventure to find all of the ingredients to perform magic at home. I am not of the latter persuasion.
Instead, I practice my driving. Those grocery carts are not easy to maneuver. It takes concentration and experience. Yes, that is another of saying skill.
Some drive Formula race cars. Others drive stock cars or drag cars. Me? I push shopping carts.
When I swiftly negotiate a small opening between an aisle end display and another shopper trying to decide between a 16 oz package and a 24 oz quantity carton, I naturally feel a sense of accomplishment. Of course there are the occasional moments when my height can assist my bride in reaching for an item on the top shelf. My usefulness takes on a new kind of variety.
It is all an effort to distract me. Time spent in this sort of shop does not excite me. Nevertheless, it is essential; so I make the best of a neutral situation.
Once in a while, however, there is a funny reward. When that happens you have to take advantage of the moment. Comic relief is a valuable asset.
I did a double take. It was hilarious to me. Naturally, I laughed.
Racing through my mind were the commercials that she represented. She sports an attitude respective of her character. It is all in fun.
Who takes a personification of a piece of candy very seriously? Nevertheless, make-believe, fiction, caricature or product mascot it is all entertaining. She made me laugh.
M&M’s are delicious. They are fun to munch on and the featured branding tried to lure me into a purchase. I just ignored the plea but made sure to snap a photo of this modern-day heroine.
She made my shopping venture fun. I could smile her without any judgment from prudes or fear of scandalous gossip. It was all about fun.
Sometime I will munch on a few of these treats. My bride and I share a package now and again. We make them last, melt in our mouths, especially when we are at the movies.
These morsels have been around our lives since our childhood days. Snack sized packages lasted long after Halloween trick or treating escapades. Now, it’s the leftovers once our neighborhood quiets down from the October festivities. She’s fun. They are fun.
photo credit: brucefong cellphone photography
Yup, that’s me. Me and my cowboy hat in a major mall trying to find a comfortable spot to wait for my bride to finish her foray into the wonderful world of women shopping. There’s not a lot for a guy to do here.
I can’t push a shopping cart. That’s something that I do with gusto when we are out grocery shopping. No matter how tight the aisles, I negotiate my way through tightest of corridors.
Nor can I find interesting things to look at like a hobby store. There the unique, the clever or the novel can distract my attention for a long time. At least in those specialty shops I can pretend to be interested for a length of time.
However, when it comes to a department store, I’m stuck. Women’s fashions don’t leave me with a lot of options. That’s when I look for a place to sit down, pull out my i-phone and entertain myself for a long time.
This time I scanned the department for a sitting place. There were none. I have been here before so I knew that pickings would be slim.
That’s when I was in for a surprise. I couldn’t believe my eyes. It was a chase lounge!
At first I was suspicious. Maybe this was part of a display. Interior decorators were taking a break and wanted this feature to be the center of their creative presentation.
Nevertheless, I boldly drew closer to examine the possibilities. Nothing seemed to suggest that this lounge chair was for anything other than sitting. Sitting was exactly what I wanted to do. So, I sat down.
Next, I kicked my legs up and leaned back to take full advantage of what a chase lounge affords. I was relaxing. The test came when several clerks walked by.
These department store employees did not even give me a sideways glance. They went about their activities. So, I enjoyed my relaxation.
Yes, there were several customers who gave me a startled look. However, out of sheer politeness they looked away once we made eye-contact. Now, I was feeling self-conscious.
No, it wasn’t that women were surrounding me. That was expected in a Women’s Clothing department. Nor was it the surprising stares by women who were shopping. That was somewhat unique since few things actually can distract a woman from her shopping.
I was in my cowboy gear. My manliness was clear. What was unusual and capturing attention was that I was lying on a chair lounge that was bright pink.
photo credit: brucefong cellphone photography
School is now in session. Today we have a test. Our subject for this class is spelling.
Many of you have studied very hard for this exercise and I know that I will be very proud of you. Do not be anxious. Just relax and consider the word that I will ask you to spell.
Don’t over-think yourselves or guess too quickly. Some of the words may be obvious. Other terms may be a little more difficult.
You are welcome to ask clarifying questions but they are limited. You may ask for the word to be pronounced again, which I more than happy to do one additional time. I will enunciate clearly for you.
Also, you may ask for the origin of the word. I will tell you the best answer from recognized sources in my possession. But, the answer to the origination question is final and may not be disputed.
One final help that you may request is for the word to be used in a sentence. Again, this may only be asked one time so pay very careful attention if you request this helpful clue. All of these sentences are pre-planned but there is only one usage sentence for each word in today’s spelling contest.
It is now time to begin. Will everyone please put all materials away so that we can all be confident that our exercise today will be carried out with the greatest care and honestly engaged. Very good, we are ready to begin.
Based on the earlier lottery, we begin with Kristin Bailey as our first contestant. Young lady will you please come up to the stage? Yes, now. No, you may not bring Oscar with you. Please leave him with your mother. That’s it come on up.
Here is your word. “sale” Yes, I will repeat it one final time. Your word is “sale”. It’s origin is the North Pole. Yes, in a sentence: “There was big “sale” downtown with all of the shoppers looking for a bargain on Black Friday.”
Now, please spell the word. ”S-A-L-E” No, I’m sorry that is NOT correct. You are eliminated from the competition. No, you don’t have an appeal. No, you did spell the word incorrectly.
The word is spelled T-R-O-U-B-L-E. Yes, I know it looks like the word S-A-L-E but it is not. Your wrong so please take your seat. Hey! Give me back my wallet! You little crook! What do you mean you’re going to a SALE! Give me my credit card back. Stop making TROUBLE!
photo credit: brucefong cellphone photo
It is not secret that my aesthetic skills leave much to be desired. Some where in my adolescence I remember the struggle to even understand what that term actually meant. The subsequent understanding and discovery was a reason to celebrate but it was a bit hollow since I realized that it is a gift that I do no have.
When I am asked about color options or texture choices or combinations to make up a project, I am lost. Most of the time I guess with confidence just to get the decision done. Most of the time gifted people look at me cross-eyed and suggest another option to which I whole-heartedly agree.
This technique has saved my bacon on many occasions. Still my bride asks me for my opinion on apparel, kitchen decorations or options for window coverings. Arghh!
Over the years I have tried to pay attention when these moments arise. Keeping cool under pressure is a survival priority in those moments. Otherwise those who are good at what they do may stumble when they meet a man who doesn’t value what is precious in their sight.
But, the other day I slipped up. My cool demeanor was lost and my dignity suffered a public meltdown. I should have been more prepared but I was taken by surprise.
This horrific moment transpired in a department store. Already, you have correctly assessed that I was not there looking at the latest in camouflage patterns for the varied Texas terrain. Instead, I was driving my bride on a necessary shopping venture.
Dutifully, following her through the maze of clothing displays and apparel rounds, a vision was thrust against my face. It was shocking. The stunning eyewitness accounting made me catch my breath.
Then, I did the unthinkable. I laughed! But, I didn’t just chuckle, I burst out laughing without much retention or decorum at all.
By now I had the attention of several clerks who happened to be close by. They melted deeper into their departments when I whipped out my camera phone to snap a picture. It was too late to pretend that I didn’t see anything.
These mannequins didn’t have any heads. In the past modern units had neutral faces. Now, they no faces at all, not even a head to put a face on to it.
Instead, the neck of these clothing stands were formed into a pointed conical shape. Yes, they were cone heads. Maybe it’s not too weird; afterall, it is Halloween.
photo credit: brucefong cellphone photography
Baseball is as much about America as apple pie and politics. During this insanely intense and mean Presidential campaign, we Americans can use some healthy release. The World Series is happening at a very good time.
In the wonderful world of sport we can express our partisan spirit in good fun. The teasing can even get amazingly energetic, but we still keep it fun. We do, don’t we?
For over a decade I was a Michigander. The Tigers were a part of our annual passion. We lived through some very tough and lean baseball years while our team was searching for the right combination.
Then, things turned around. Wins began to pile up. Play-offs and pennants were a part of our year.
Now, in 2012, they are back in the World Series. It has been exciting. The road to this opportunity has been filled with great memorable moments.
But, there is a twist. I was born in California. The San Francisco Giants have been a mainstay for a long time.
My history with team is punctuated by two years of life in the city marked by the Golden Gate Bridge, Bay Bridge, Coit Tower, Cable Cars, Fisherman’s Wharf, Golden Gate Park, Chinatown and Sunset Church. Yup, I served as a Pastor at Sunset Church when the Giants won the Series in 2010.
Now, what do I do? Long time investment in a rebuilt fabulous organization like the Tigers. I have been to more Tiger games than all professional baseballs games with others teams combined. My heart sank when we cheered them on through losing seasons.
We consoled each other when both great and gross seasons came to forced closures. It was no fun. But, each new season we loved our Tigs!
God in His providence moved me out of SF this year. Before the pressure was on, we now live in Texas. But, I still where my English D baseball cap often.
Admittedly, I smiled a lot when the Tigers overwhelmed the Yankees to make it to the Series. My SF friends have teased me relentlessly. But, it’s all in good fun!
Now, the series has begun. My beloved Tigers are behind. But, we’ve been there before. We do not give up. We never stop believing. Throwing in the towel is never an option.
Good providence my striped beasts! Swing mightily, run swiftly, throw powerfully and show the world why you are champions. Your foe is fierce but I believe!
photo credit: brucefong cellphone photography
We walked into the department store and it was draining. I could feel the forces of Kryptonite sapping my vital energy from my body. There was no cure only patience.
Within moments I felt surrounded by woman stuff. Endless racks of clothing strained the human eye for any end to the displays. The variety was multi-layered, broadly conceived and that was only on one floor.
Soon, we were in the department that my bride was seeking. Quickly, I scoped out the lay of the land. There were no husband-chairs.
The store must not have passed on my suggestion to the PTB’s (Powers that Be). Any options may not have fit into the decorative motif of the place. But, no bother to men who are resourceful, resilient and hunters of the first degree.
Next to the display wall was a raised platform. Two modern mannequins were perched, decked out in garb that made no sense to me. That didn’t matter, but their podium had plenty of room to serve as a seat for a weary husband to rest his feet.
Naturally, I nodded my head to acknowledge our proximity. It’s a Texan thing for gentlemen cowboys to do. Treating women with respect is part of the code here in the West.
Just to be extra friendly, I greeted the ladies, “Howdy, Ma’am’s. Hope you don’t mind if I take a seat here and rest ma feet. It’s been a bit of a walk around your sizable store.” They were quiet, stone silent you might say.
No bother, I went about my business. My I-phone had plenty to occupy my attention. Emails, text messages, internet searches, personal notations all kept me productive.
After several hours, my bride was ready to go. I wrapped up my correspondence and shut my device down. Standing up and stretching, I again nodded to my unofficial hostesses, touched my brow with two fingers as a gesture of acknowledgement, “You ladies have a pleasant day, y’all hear?”
Again they were silent. In fact they didn’t even look my way. No, it wasn’t really rude of them, maybe they just aren’t from around these parts and are uninitiated to the friendly ways of Texas.
At least they were recipients of a friendly expressions. Afterall, better to give than to receive. Isn’t that saying in a very good book some where?
photo credit: brucefong cellphone photography
The sun had long set. Night had shrouded our neighborhood. Still, there was one more errand to give my attention to before the day could be closed.
I had to stop by our mailbox and collect our mail. We have a community box. The mail carrier stops at one location for about 24 homes, all clustered for a simple walk or stop-by on the drive into our neighborhood.
Even though the two of us were together, I volunteered to hop out of our rig and let my bride stay inside. It was the chivalric thing to do. Busily, I fumbled through my keys looking for the mailbox key.
Staying too focused on one task and not paying attention to your surroundings can get you into a laughable moment. Just as I found my key and began to open the box, I noticed for the first time a sound that I knew in my memory but couldn’t quite place while looking for the right key in the middle of my key chain.
Multi-tasking drains us of our clear thinking. But, while the mental process slows down for secondary matters, it eventually catches up. My brain assessed the familiar sound, the unmistakable rat-a-tat-tat of a lawn sprinkler.
It was too late. My mailbox key had already been inserted. I just submitted to the inevitable. The water sprinkler washed my legs from top to bottom.
After rolling my eyes, I grabbed all of our mail and locked our box. Assessing my options I checked out the sprinkler that had machine-gunned me with its powerful soaking spray. Maybe I could jump to my left and avoid another baptism. Too late!
Right at the time when I decided to see where the sprinkler was in its cycle of spraying, it reversed itself and came back. Yes, I was right in the path of the deluge of made-man showers. If there were any dry spots on my lower extremities, now there were none.
I climbed back in the car. I heard some feminine snickering. Or more accurately, it was feminine giggling. Some comment about me being “all wet” was somehow a part of the peanut gallery’s pronouncement. Oh, well, it’s just water.
photo credit: brucefong cellphone photography
We often do a working lunch. Picking a fun place to press our ideas and talk through others deepens our relationship and solidifies our trust. It also teaches us so much about the perspective held by one another.
We were being too polite with each other, “You pick.” “No, you pick.” “I’ll go anywhere.” After that servant-hearted exchange we headed for Cajun Cuisine. Yes, you heard it correctly, it was time for some spicy fare.
I had no idea what I wanted to order. There are perhaps two or three times in my lifetime that I have had this style of food. All I know is that it is often seafood and the meal is kickin’ good.
Those vague memories of the past served me well. Looking at the menu did not help me so I asked the waitress for her recommendations. She looked at me with discerning eyes, asked a few questions and then clearly, definitively and certainly suggested an oyster poor boy and cup of jambalaya.
We were lost into our business of the day. Ideas flowed from our three lives. Quickly and definitively we were laying out pursuits for our near future institutional developments.
I tracked with my fellow brain trusts and gleaned their perspectives and great ideas. I jotted them down in my notes app on my phone. It was a very productive meeting.
Then, the food came. I could not believe my nose. The oyster poor boy was mouth-watering good.
As if that sandwich wasn’t good enough, the jambalaya was stunning. My first taste sent shock waves over my taste buds. That’ll wake you up any time during the day.
Houston is not only a massively large city, it is cosmopolitan in its table fare. Living in the variety that is here is a treat. It always makes for deepening friendships more efficient.
It is a spiritual virtue to enjoy a meal with friends. Even more it is a treat to make friends through a meal. There are so many lives already that are intertwining with ours.
But, back to the kickin’ food. I was so into what I ordered I didn’t even notice what my colleagues had ordered. But, I did make a mental note to tell my bride about my meal in a text. She wrote back and told me that she was having crackers and cheese. Gotta get her to come with me to this kickin’ place.
photo credit: brucefong cellphone photography
“Any reason for a party” is a good motto for life. It is human to celebrate, isn’t it? There is something about anthropology that suggests that our very existence calls for jubilation.
The three of us entered Papadeaux’s for a night of commemorating Rick’s birthday. Our cheerful greeter asked with a beaming smile, “How many?” In responsive cadence, “Three.”
That’s when the fun began. Pointing to Rick with my thumb, “Do you do anything special for birthday boys?” A simple innocent inquiry had him aghast.
“Bruce, don’t. Don’t. Don’t,” he was gasping for words. Too late, she smiled with equal mischievousness, “Oh, it’s his birthday.” I liked the sound of her brain cells purring.
Once seated we presented our birthday boy with his gift. It was funny how he carefully pulled out each part of the gift bag like it was a bomb. He unwrapped a corner and peaked inside, chuckled and put it back in the bag.
We had fun putting it together. Now he can eat ethnically, practice his dexterity at every meal and sip his evening beverage. Of course he can have dessert and push around a wild animal all at the same time.
Our evening had so much laughter. We reminisced over friends, tracked our spiritual pilgrimage, rehearsed the blessings from the lives of our children and detailed our journey in our local church worship experiences. It was just three great friends out for a great evening.
The food was spectacular. It looked great but tasted even better. To top off the evening we enjoyed an amazing array of desserts.
That splendid part of the evening fare was accompanied with a gathering of the restaurant staff. They presented Rick with a candle-lit dessert. Then with the enthusiasm that attracted the attention of then entire gathering of guests, they sang.
It was a fun song about something to do with birthdays. My bride and I laughed. Rick blushed as red as the Cajun food peppers that we had eaten.
Happy Birthday, Rick! You are a true friend and an amazing blessing even though you are a Baylor alum.
photo credit: brucefong cellphone photo
You don’t have to look alike to be family. Blood isn’t even necessary to a common link in order to claim family ties. But, there is something about what we share that makes relationships uniquely family.
Of course blood does distinguish a certain kind of family connection. These certainly are special ones. Nothing separates us and nothing can negate what we share in common.
Then, there are family members linked by law. Marriage ceremonies add members to our family. We have been blessed with two wonderful in-law children that are so dearly loved that they are family.
A third category makes up a special kind of family member. These members are family by choice. Well, then again it really isn’t choice as much as it is something that we fall into, happen chance, a connection, chemistry beyond human understanding.
These are family members by fun. Blood and law relatives aren’t our choices. They are sovereignly assigned.
Friends who become so close that we start to gather memories that knit our lives together are amazingly fun. You can tell when these friends start to become family. Spontaneous gatherings happen without calendar planning.
There is a spirit of eagerness to get together. Fellowship is quick, easy and always fun. Time is a test for these collections of special people.
I am blessed to have great family by blood, super family by law and amazing lives of friends that I love as family. Whenever any of us connect it is easy to slip back into talking, teasing, reflecting just like we have never been separated for any length of time. We lap up those moments of connection like they are newly discovered treasures.
Our daughter by blood is visiting from many miles away. One of our family through friendship joined us for a great meal. The food was amazing but the time together easily bested what we ate.
Vietnamese food was our fare for the evening. Delicate morsels of fish, chicken, pork and a myriad of vegetables filled our plates. Then, creme brulee topped off the meal to perfection.
But, boy did we laugh. So much of what we laughed about is simple stuff. Love pumps up the decibels so that we find it natural to laugh through a story.
The evening was growing late. Our dishes had long been cleared. It was time for us to depart. But, as family the joy expressed was priceless. Until we meet again, these memories would be a teaser for the next time around.
photo credit: brucefong cellphone photography
