New Year & Effort, A Master Jedi Speaks, Face Book & The Thunder Base, Your Stuff, The Baptism Of Brother Hager, Keep Enjoying Your Stuff Or Dumping Your Junk

Greeting to all and welcome new friends to the EastWing.

A brand new year. A new beginning. A start over. A fresh start. And the list can go on and on to describe the hopes and aspirations we all hold for this new year 2013. Now only six days in and for some, those hopes, dreams and aspirations, they’ve already been crushed.  Damn!  Didn’t hardly even get started and it’s crap all over the place. Don’t ya  hate when that happens.

That’s just life, the way it is.  Nobody said life is fair. Nobody said the world owes ya a living. Nobody said you’ll do fine, just set back and wait for things to come your way. Things don’t come your way. Unless you’re willing to become a ward of the state. That being said, you may be required to change political affiliations in order to qualify.

Now I say that because of such an interesting statistic along those thoughts. Of the people in our society who choose to subsist from the public coffers, a  number in excess of 95+% of those folks are of the same political party affiliation.

With that being said, should one choose that lifestyle, it would just make sense to be sure one was in the “correct” political party. An  interesting note, here in Indiana, in the states both to the east and to  the west of Indiana,  Ohio and Illinois, those states have more people on social welfare programs than the number of people working in those  two states. In the last general election, both those two states, Ohio and Illinois, voted with the same political party. Many people do take that approach in life.  Some call that lifestyle  whatyagonnagiveme.

There’s a rather simple word which many of the above referenced 95+%  may  have excluded from their vocabulary. It’s “effort”. Not too hard to understand. Not too hard to put into effect, but only  if it’s still in your vocabulary. If not in the vocabulary, it’s impossible to even comprehend .

In the minds of the doers in our society, the different between success and failure in this life can be summed up in a single word, Effort. Failure is always associated with lack of, while success is always associated with an adequate amount of.  One of the difficulties of defining effort is identifying just how much it takes. The only amount that can be measured is failure. Failure simply means there was not enough effort to succeed. Success cannot be measured by effort, because there is no measure to identify the precise amount of effort put forth to achieve success. Success is effort overflowing.

Guess some things in life are destined to forever remain a mystery. Volume of effort required for success in life may well bounce around in that twilight zone of “What would have been, if just a little more effort had been put forth?”.  Too little is well known. The correct amount remains the mystery.  It was my friend Yoda who first spoke the words “Do, or do not, never try”.  Words of wisdom from the Master Jedi. Now that’s about the closest one can come to measuring the amount of effort necessary to succeed. “Do, or do not, never try”.

Do you have a Face Book account?  I’m amazed at how so many people allow this social media to rule their life. To me Face Book is much the same as the CB Radio of the 1970’s. Back in the 1970’s there was  a “gas shortage” that, in part, gave life to the CB Radio. And the CB Radio became a national communication craze.

The country music industry of the day developed a CB Radio language of its own.  Words like “Good Buddy” and “Breaker, Breaker” became the accepted norm for communicating amongst the CB Radio world. We all became emulators  of a feller by the name of Cash  McCall.  We used terms like “Rubber Ducky” and Come Back, Good Buddy”.

It was trash talking of the 70’s. Much the same as trash talking of today, just different words, still trash talking the same. However there’s one major difference in the comparison of today’s trash talking to the 1970’s.  In the 1970’s trash talking, nobody would be ashamed to say the words in the company of their Mother and Grandmother. Today, that’s not the case. Even today, ya don’t use the F-Bomb in front of your Mama or  Grandma. At least most all the decent people I know would not do so. ‘Course time have changed in the last 40 years. There may well be some Grandmas out there today who don’t give a F*&% one way or the other ‘bout trash talking. Sad, but true. And if so, shame on you, Grandma. You bitch ass!

We all had a “handle”, a nick name, to be used exclusively while talking on the CB Radio. You didn’t  get to choose your handle, oh no, someone else had to determine your handle. Back then I was a Hospital Administrator, while also doing forensic autopsy work, and so early on someone called me the “Medicine Man”. Now don’t laugh, but in the mid 1970’s it worked for me. On the CB Radio Airways, I was the Medicine Man.

Having knowledge of Ham Radio operations and at the time holding an official Ham Radio License from the FCC, I found myself one up on most trash talking CB Radio loudmouths. At first I vowed to never speak a single word on the CB Radio frequencies, until such time I realized it was an evolving new social media.  And so it was that I build my own CB Radio with output power in excess of the maximum limit allowed. Then, many years before the EastWing came into existence, I brought on line, a radio station identified as “The Thunder Base”.

Broadcasting at 1,500 watts on a radio signal  that was limited to 4 watts by the FCC, allowed the Thunder Base to reach out and touch someone. And so we did. In the winter, we spoke as the “Voice of the Cold Country” and in the summer we were the “Thunder Base”. We spoke over vast distances as the Thunder Base. And even further distance in the winter time. Primarily North to South, seldom too very far East to West. Seldom ever crossed the Rocky Mountains as the Voice of the Cold Country. But we did reach out and touch someone.

It was a time when  the CB Airways of the  nighttime turned into rivers of words flowing forth from the “Voice of The Cold Country”, as the Thunder Base lit up the darkness with CB trash talking, 70’s style.

Do ya ever just take the time to look around your world and really see what’s there? I do that often in the EastWing. I’ve got a lot of stuff, really a lot of stuff. And sometimes ya gotta look twice to make sure ya see it all. It’s important that you do see it all. ‘Cause if you don’t see it all, then ya don’t need to keep it around. For all my stuff in the EastWing, I look, and look again. It’s so important that ya truly know and enjoy all your stuff. No matter what it is, that’s all ya got, and  it’s all your stuff.

Tonight I looked upon a small picture of my Dad and another Baptist Preacher by the name of  Adam Prater, baptizing a hillbilly boy named Hager Jordan. The date, I have no idea, but I do know it was in latter half of the 1950’s, ‘cause me and my dad, we didn’t come to Indiana from Kentucky  till 1954.

The event, well the picture speaks for its self, it was a baptism. They stood near waist deep in water, the two men of God, one on either side of Hager Jordan, holding their right hands  toward the heavens, about to baptize Brother Hager in the Blood of the Lamb. It gives me chills, it just does. Every time I look at that picture, Men of God, doing the Lords work here on earth. It gives me chills, every time, to this very day. It gives me chills.

So when I plugged in the old Christmas Lights from my Mama, this year, I made it a point to place two of those lights to illuminate that little picture of the baptism of Brother Hager. And every time I look, it give me  chills, and I look often.

Beside the little picture of the baptism of Brother Hager, On either side, right next to the Christmas Lights, I sat two of my most ornate glass chickens, given to me by my Sister Barbara. High dollar chickens watch this baptism. They fit so very well, they must be Baptist Chickens. Which is kinda surprising ‘cause Sister Barbara, like myself,  we’re Catholic. Raised as Baptist, converted to the Catholic faith. Guess that makes us Baptlic. Guess those glass chickens up there watching the Baptism of Brother Hager, well, maybe they’re Baptlic Chickens too.

It’s most important that you not only know where all your stuff is, but ya also  enjoy all your stuff, all the time. If you don’t enjoy all your stuff all the time, then get rid of your old junk.

Stay safe in Afghanistan.

From The EastWing, New Year & Effort, A Master Jedi Speaks, Face Book & The Thunder Base, Your Stuff, The Baptism Of Brother Hager, Keep Enjoying Your Stuff Or Dumping Your Junk

I Wish You Well,

BobbyRay