The Sports World should be in charge of the country

The NBA has suspended it season. The NCAA has called off March Madness and other college sports. Even Major League Baseball has suspended spring training and the regular season.

Those moves did more to fight the corona-virus than the Federal Government has done!

The President tells lie after lie about what the World Heath Organization has now labeled a 'pandemic'. He tells us tests are available--they're not. He said the virus would 'miraculously disappear with warm weather--it won't. He's more worried about the stock market, which his handling of this pandemic has caused to plunge--than he is about the virus. He was exposed and hasn't bothered to be tested (at least HE could get one). I won't go on and on, but I could.

State governments are doing more than the federal government. Limiting large gatherings, closing schools, urging anyone who can to work from home, asking people to self--isolate if they feel they might be sick. The President told people it was ok to go to work, even if they were sick and is worrying about the airlines and the shipping industry instead of worrying about the millions of Americans without health insurance at a time when they might desperately need it.

(I forgot my promise not to go 'on and on' about him....)

So put the NBA, NCAA and MLB in charge of the crisis. They have, to their own financial peril, assured that thousands and thousands and perhaps even millions of people won't be put in close contact in the days of this crisis.

God bless them.

And while you're at it God, kick the Federal Government's ass until they get going in a serious way.

And shut the President up so health officials and experts can decide what to do.

That should keep you busy a while, God.

Just saw the National Hockey League has also suspended the season. One more reason the sports folks should be in charge....

Doing my taxes

...is no fun.

Clergy taxes are different from most other middle class folks.

Clergy don't pay taxes on any money they spend on housing. That means everything--utilities, insurance, property tax, lawn care, repairs, paper towels, laundry soap, toilet paper....on and on and on.

At one time the same rules applied to members of the armed forces and school teachers. It was taken from them.

So, who is more powerful? The Army, the education system or the Church?

One guess is all you need.

But it means going through more data that I'd like to to be able give the accountant an accurate number for all housing costs. Bought a new broom? I can deduct it and you can't.

It's not fair by any means.

But it is what it is. And I take advantage of it.

I'm sure you would if you could.

But it takes several days.

The hard part is over. All that is left is adding numbers.

So, the bad part is over.

Now comes the fun of keeping money the IRS might have gotten.

Happy to be where I am

I meet so many people who are wishing and hoping and longing to 'be somewhere else in their lives', that I am amazed gratified and extremely thankful to be 'just where I am in mine'.

I have a marriage that on September 5 will be 50 years old. We've had rough times in all those years, but now we're happy to be where we are.

I'll be 73 in April and Bern will be 70 15 days before my birthday. And we're happy to be where we are.

We have two remarkable children who are in two wonderful marriages and have given us four amazing granddaughters. They all have productive, important jobs--our children and their spouses--and make more money that I can imagine. I am so happy they are where they are.

Plus, I have this job with the Middlesex Area Cluster Ministry--three churches in unlikely places like Higganum, Killingworth and Northford. I was on the Cluster Council tonight and looked around the table and realized I loved every single one of the nine with me--and Ann, who couldn't be there because she works in the hospital where one of the two corona virus folks in Connecticut works.

Sometimes I pinch myself.

How could I be this blessed, this fortunate, this embraced when so many are missing all that?

I pray for those less fortunate than me and try to support them however I can.

And I am so happy to be where I am.

I hate, hate, hate Daylight Savings Time

Why do we do this every year?

I know some states are protesting about it, mostly in the south.

But even here in New England I'd gladly do without it.

For one thing, it starts on Sunday and unlike most folks, I work on Sunday.

Today was the church the most distance from my home with the earliest start time!

I had to get up at 8 and break every speeding law to get there at 9.

And summer evenings are plenty long anyway.

If we do it at all, it should be in winter when it gets dark by 4 p.m.

I'll be off for days now. I called in a take-out for pizza and fried callimari (sp) but I'm not hungry and won't be until 8. My digestive system is on Standard time.

It makes me crazy. I hate, hate, hate it.

Believe science and don't be traumatized

I just listened on youtube to Neil Degrass Tyson tell Stephen Colbert that the real question about the coronavirus is "will people believe science"?

Wash you hands. Try not to touch your face (I can't do it!). Stay away from big crowds, but don't make yourself a victim of terror about it all.

The deaths in the US are just over 20. The flu kills tens of thousands. Believe science and be careful but don't go to panic mode about this virus.

Time will tell whether this is the non-news the president thinks it is or the pandemic science tells us it could be.

But be careful, beloved.

Believe science.

Don't give in to trauma.

I am surrounded by poetry

                            I AM SURROUNDED BY POETRY

I am surrounded by poetry
I will never write.

The old man down the block
with his droopy mustache
and the dog he used to walk, long dead now.
The particular shade of orange in the morning sky
and the wondrous pink as evening comes.
The down on the neck of a woman I loved once,
who never knew I loved her.
And her eggshell ears.
The bend of her slim elbow.
Her ears--I mentioned that already.
The leafy, illogical pattern of ice on my windshield
one January morning--
like something a chaos physicist
(how about a mixed metaphor!)
woukd have adored.
What smoke feels like in my lungs
after I inhale deeply on a cigarette.
The particular color of the eyes
of the crazy man I talked to and gave two dollars today.
My dreams--coming at me like a tsunami these days--
endless visits with old friends,
walking through amber when I need to run,
conversations with those long dead,
hard work to accomplish in less than no time.
The smell of skunk standing on our deck.
The taste of coffee ice cream.
The feel of the hair of my Puli dog.
The sight of a woman, walking fast,
staying in shape, fending off death,
by walking fast past my house.
Hearing anything by Mozart on the radio.
And just the way it feels to be inside my skin,
how I can count my bones,
if I would stand still long enough and count.
The many ways I think of death.

And there is no time, no time at all,
since I am growing older.
There is no time, no time at all,
to write the poems that surround me.

And what about the dimples my daughter has?
And the strange way new money looks.
And how my wine glass is empty?
And the wear on the 'n' on my keyboard?
And how the ringing in my ears is sometimes a sonata?
And what the night sky resembles?
And the air under my fingernails and the gaps between my teeth?
The sound of rain,, rain's smell, all of raing.

What is unworthy of a poem?
Nothing, so far as I can tell.

And I don't have the time.
Surrounded by poetry, I have no time to write.

1/30/06--jgb

Hold on, beloved

I went to St. John's in Waterbury to meet with my Tuesday group yesterday and their was a huge box--2 feet by 4 feet--with my name on it in the library where we meet.

Cindy--the wondrous parish administrator--is cleaning out the archives and found the box with my name on it.

I took it to Higganum today and cleaned out the stuff I didn't want, but much is left.

Pictures, trinkets, notebooks full of stories I don't remember writing, a whole packet of sermons I preached, letters I wrote and received and lots of other stuff.

I'll be going through it more carefully in the days to come and will have much to share with you here.

You thought I've been sharing too much 'old' stuff lately.

Hold on, beloved, lots more to come!

Plus, here's something else from 2007....

                                WINTER DREAMS

I dream more than most people I talk with about dreams.
My Dream-Maker seems to go full tilt all night,
especially in winter when the wind wails
and whispers of sleet slide against the windows.

My dreams are not earth shattering, no prophecies
from a poet-god, nor are they full of advice .
Mostly, they are mundane--ordinary things:
often I am building something, a gizmo I understand now,
other times I am walking through strange lands,
seeing things I do not comprehend...but never afraid.
I have no nightmares these days.

Sometimes I dream lf sleeping in the bed with you.
I dream of waking up and watching you sleepl
and then dozing off again to dream of sleeping.
I dream of extremely hairy black dogs sitting on my head
and golden cats--like tiny lions--opening the door
to the room and falling asleep at my feet.

Just the other night, I dreamed I woke to your saying:
"can I have a glass of water?" and geting up to run
the water cold before filling the glass. Then I dreamed--
amazing as it is, that  you brought the water and said:
"you won't remember this when you wake up...."

But I did remember and when I woke, I wore a Puli like a hat
the the cat at my feet stirred and leapt from the bed.
I heard you downstairs making coffee.

"Let the day begin," I said, anxious to see you,
just as I slipped back under the winter covers
and slept, hoping to dream of getting up and joining you....

12/21/07--jgb