Entitlement? What’s that all about?

Two different instances prompted this article. I read on Facebook the Seven Dangers to Human Virtue.

1.     Wealth without work

2.     Pleasure without conscience

3.     Knowledge without character

4.     Business without ethics

5.     Science without humanity

6.     Religion without sacrifice

7.     Politics without principles.

In the same day, I got a call from my daughter who wondered if there was a homeless shelter in Pagosa for men? She said she had a call from someone who needed a place to stay.

“I did at one time, but I don’t know of any now.”

She said that a homeless man called the church and asked to be put up in the Econo Lodge with a hot tub. He had a bad back. She said, I don’t know if I’m being scammed.

I said, “Sounds like entitlement to me. There is a hot springs down by the river down town Pagosa he could use that for his back.”

She called back later and said this man was at the hospital and kept calling back and demanded, “What are you going to do for me? Are you going to come and get me and take me to the Econo Lodge?”

She said, “No. I can give you the number of the men’s shelter in Durango.”

He hung up on her, then called again and demanded the church do something for him.

She called other churches to see what they had done for him. The pastor said that they had given him three nights at a motel. He was trouble and needed to move on out of the area.

Amazing to me how someone thinks they are entitled and people owe them a living.

What human virtue have they lost when the one who begs have purposed to make their living begging or demanding. It’s their profession.

I’m just being real. I’m not judging and I’ve helped a lot of people along the way who needed a helping hand. When I see people asking for money every day, I have mixed emotions. I want to help, but then I think, “Am I just enabling them?”

It takes discernment to know when to help. When someone is really down and if they can just get to the next place in their life so they can get back on their feet, I’d do anything for them.

When I see someone day in and day out standing on the corner asking for money, or who lives in one of the motels here in town because his cat needs a home, I want to stop and roll down my window and say something like, “Get a job.” He’s on vacation in Pagosa and it can’t get better than that. It falls under number 1 or 2 – Pleasure without conscience, or wealth without work.

There was a man who stood with his backpack at 160 and 84 last year. He has moved on. He was there the year before asking for money. I rolled down my car window and asked, “Why don’t you get a job and be a productive human being. I saw you here in this place last year, you’re life is no better than it was a year ago?

As I type this article, I look out the window and see my Sweet Al, who is 76 years old, limping and digging a ditch on the property. I think about those younger men on the corner who have their youth and strength asking for money.

My Sweet Al has never quit working or wanting to work. He’s worked for nothing, or sometimes for a little, but always has worked. We’ve had our share of ups and downs, but we’ve never lost sight that there are no free lunches and no one owes us a living.

Final Brushstroke: We are blessed that we can still work. We still have good health, energy, and a want-to to be productive. We are the blessed ones. We must keep our hearts open to those who really need our help, otherwise our own souls will become destitute. 

That’s How Rumors Get Started – You Heard it Wrong!

When I showed up at my Women’s Bible Study Group, they were buzzing around about George.

One of the women said, “George is dead.”

Another one said, “He was 104 years old.”

I asked, “George Beverly?”

“Yes.”

Then I said, “Well, Grandma Moses was 103 and she painted a watercolor the same day she died. Maybe 104 isn’t so old after all.”

I didn’t think much about the conversation, until we all got together that night for dinner. We were talking about birthdays. Bob’s birthday is November 8^th and mine is November 9^th. I always bake a carrot cake for my birthday and I bake one for Bob while I’m in it.

Bob’s wife asked, “Did you know that Billy Graham’s birthday is November 7^th, and he is having a last call?”

I said, “I guess George Beverly won’t be there for the last call or he’s already there.”

She said, “That’s how rumors get started.”

“Didn’t George Beverly Shea die? You said…”

“Yes, but no. He died early this month, it was George Jones we were talking about.”

“What’s the last call?” Another guest asked.

“Billy Graham is having a “Last Call” on his birthday. It is going to be televised all over the world and it will be his biggest crusade ever. The end is near.”

One of the men spoke up. “Is it his last call, or the “Last Call?”

“Maybe both! I don’t know, but we better be ready one way or the other.” Then I said to Bob. “Listen to me Bob, if it’s the big Last Call, we’ve got to celebrate our birthdays earlier. I should make us a carrot cake on the 6^th of November. Better still, I think we should celebrate the month of October to get in our sweets, you know how we love sweets.”

Then one of the guests said, “I read your article and it wasn’t what we said.”

“Yes, you did. You said, I should be helpless, men love helpless women.”

“No, we didn’t say that.”

“Of course, you said that. You told me to ask Al to rub my neck.”

“No, we said, you need to rub Al’s neck.”

“I didn’t hear it that way. I went home from our lunch the other day and asked Al to rub my neck. I thought I was bonding.”

We are still at the dinner table when my Sweet Al spoke up, “I know all about women going through the change of life.”

I looked at Al over my glasses. “Where did that come from? What are you talking about Al, you don’t know anything thing about that stuff.”

“Yes, I do, you were hard to live with.”

I immediately defended myself, “No, I wasn’t. I went through it like a breeze, no hot flashes, no mood swings. What are you talking about?”

When had Al become an expert on the subject of women going through the change of life? He started counseling one of the women guest. I looked at him as if I didn’t know this guy.

“Al’s doesn’t remember things.” I told the guest, “Nothing happened like that, I’m going home and I’m going to ask my kids. They will remember.”

Al must have had that on his mind all these years and he decided it needed to finally  be said. We were still discussing it in front of the other guests. “You were!” “I wasn’t!” “Yes, you were! You were something else, I know all about it.”

I was thinking, they will never invite us back again. So I asked, “Who has been attending the video on Marriage? Maybe, Al and I need to sit in. After 53 years, you’d think we could get it together.”

One of the men spoke up, “I’m putting my money on you two, I believe you’re going to make it.”

“It doesn’t sound like it.” I shook my head, “I don’t know how we’ve made it so far, it’s God grace. I’m not kidding, it’s God grace.”

Then Sheryl said, “You’re taking notes for another article, aren’t you?”

I said, “Yes, and this evening is duly noted, it will be recorded in the SUN News. I always hear what I want to hear.”

“Well, get it right, the last time you wrote about us, you didn’t get it right.”

Sweet Al spoke up. “She never tells it right.”

Another guest spoke up, “That’s how rumors gets started.”

“And, I guess you think I’m the bad guy here?”

“You’re the only one telling it all in the newspaper.”

Final Brushstroke: My hearing isn’t like it used to be, and that’s my story. My Sweet Al’s not remembering like he used to, and I don’t know what his story is. He’s starting to speak up and it’s making me uncomfortable.

Jake, The Fashion Plate of The Neighborhood

I arrived at the Bible study, only to meet Jake and his master, Sam. Jake was energetic and happy. Sam said, “Jake wants to show you his stiches.”

I looked at him and said, “Reeaaaaaaly?”

The week before, Judy asked prayer for Jake. He was going in for liver surgery.  She explained, “Our prayers have been answered.”

“Did Jake have his surgery? How much have you spent on that dog, anyway?”

Sam smiled, “Probably $6,000.00.”

“$6,0000.00? That dog is a walking doctor bill on four legs. You have spent money on his teeth. You have him on a special diet because something is wrong with his stomach, and now he’s had liver surgery? If he were mine I would say “goodbye” to Jake and give his wardrobe of clothes to Gus.”

The women gasp and stared at me.

Sam quipped back, “Jake said he was glad he wasn’t your dog, and he was glad I’m his daddy.”

I said, “I’m glad Jake isn’t my dog, either, I can think of a lot of things I could spend $6,000.00 on and it wouldn’t be a dog.”

Judy said, “You don’t understand, they found copper in Jake and he didn’t need surgery after all. They wouldn’t have known about his liver, except for his yearly physical.”

“You give your dog a yearly physical? My Sweet Al doesn’t even get a yearly physical.”

More gasps from the ladies. 

As our group gathered, the ladies continued talking about their animals. Sheryl held up a beautiful brown leather fleece-lined coat and said, “It will fit Gus fine.”

Judy explained. “Jake didn’t wear that coat this year. He got a new one.”

Sheryl was elated, “Gus is enjoying the Thunderwear that Jake gave him, too.”

Judy added, “The Thunderwear helped Jake with his anxiety problems, and it will help Gus, also.”

I said, “What is this, a Clothing Exchange for Dogs? I sure wished that coat were in my size. I’d fight Gus for it.”

Sheryl gleefully bragged, “Gus is becoming the envy of the neighborhood by all his hand-me-downs from Jake.”

Never one to be out done I found myself competing, “Angel puts a different color handkerchief on Daisy each month to keep with the seasons. This month it’s green. Daisy’s a country dog. It’s hard to keep her kerchief clean.”

What will these women with their dogs think of next? Whatever they do, I’m sure Jake will have it first. He is definitely the fashion plate and a leader in the latest fashion. Gus is following close behind in Jake’s hand-me-downs.”

Sheryl looked over at me and asked. “Are you taking notes?”

“Not me.” I smiled. “I’m autographing a copy of my book for Jake, as my favorite pet to write about. I’m wishing him good health. I must include Gus next time.”

Final Brushstroke! I prayed for Jake and I think it’s working. My heart is softening. Pagosa is dog country. I guess I’m going to have to get with the program.

Give them something to talk about!

Artist's Quote: "It is not only what we do, but also what we do not do, for which we are accountable." Moliere

What people think about is what they talk about? I met with my lady friends for lunch. They were busy checking their calendar for holidays. They were excited they had another holiday soon to celebrate.

One of the ladies said July is ice cream month, and another one said there is a cheesecake day, did you know that?

My eyes lite up and now I’m into celebrating holidays.

 “Did you know Star Wars has its own day to celebrate?”

“No, I didn’t. Who’s got time to worry about holidays?” I asked.

“We celebrate all of them. I buy all my holiday decorations the day after for the next year. Yesterday, I picked up some furry little chicks for next Easter, and I found a black cat at the Thrift Store for Halloween.”

“Isn’t that a lot of junk to store?”

“Yes, but I enjoy looking at them and planning for holidays.”

I was intrigued in Star Wars Day, so I asked, “Is there really a day for Star Wars?”

“Yes, it’s May, the 4^th. May the Fourth be with you!” They all laughed.

You’ve got to be kidding. There must be something better to talk about.

Then, two days later, I listened to the conversation at our weekly Sunday dinner. It’s our standing date with our family for Nascar and dinner. This is how the conversation went:

My daughter said, “Can you believe it, Lazaro is still on? He needs to go. The women at work were so mad, they turned off the television.”

My youngest daughter said, “I voted for him.”

I came back, “You voted for him? Why would you do that?”

My son-in-law asked, “How many times?”

“I don’t know.”

Then my daughter said, “They should at least give him a hanky, the poor thing can’t stop sweating.”

“I know.”

Then I said, “Why would he wear  a coat every week? They should turn the fan on him. They put so much air on Angie, they almost blew her off the stage. Turn that fan on Lazaro.”

I’m cracking up and I’m goading them. The whole family is mad at our youngest daughter for voting for Lazaro and they weren’t going to let her forget how disappointed they were in her. They wanted her to leave the table.

So I switched to another hot topic. I heard on the news the other night in Denver, they are worried about all the accidents people are causing because they are smoking marijuana and driving. “Hello.”

“I know. That’s another mindboggling thing to think about.”

“Why would they make marijuana legal?”

My son-in-law said, “They make the tobacco companies issue all these warnings, now there is marijuana to deal with. The officials in our town have worked hard to get alcohol off the streets, especially away from our kids. Here’s another problem they are having to deal with.”

Then one of the family members spoke up, “I heard of a prominent member of the community who voted for marijuana.”

“Hold the phone!” I came unglued. “What. What in the world was he thinking?”

“He said, by legalizing marijuana, it frees up the courts.”

“Hello. Now they are worried about how many ounces make it legal. I thought they were supposed to smoke only in private. Now people are driving under the influence of marijuana.”

I spoke up again, “A Facebook friend posting after the elections, if he’d only known they were voting in marijuana, he would’ve stayed in Pagosa.”

Then out of the blue, my Sweet Al said, “Our insurance keeps going up and up, it’s killing us. We heard now insurance will cover a sex change operation, that will drive up our premiums.”

“I’m sure you’re right. That operation couldn’t be just a walk in the park.” Then, I said to the family, “Listen to us. When did we get so opinionated? We used to laugh at things. Nothing seemed to be that serious. But recently, everything is hitting us in the face. I don’t know whether to laugh or cry. Maybe we should celebrate one of the holidays. I’m sure there is one coming up. I’ll have to ask my lady friends.”

Cricket’s birthday is tomorrow. She called and said she was turning fifty and was wondering how she could celebrate the end of her forties. Her son said to her, “Mom, tomorrow is National Weed Day, go smoke a weed.”

Picture my accountant, pearl wearing, ultra conservative daughter’s mortified face. She asked her son, “How do you know that?”

“I’ve always known that.

As my one friend says, “May the Fourth be with you!”

Final Brushstroke! I guess planning holidays takes your mind off the real problems. This week we are celebrating Lazaro leaving the show. Poor guy, he just wanted to sing and we have crucified him. If they’re talking about it, they’re thinking about it.