Weekend plans, stats, Thanks, & A Favorite Joke

Ginny & I plan to take a long weekend so I doubt that I’ll make another blog posting till next week. However, I do have a few things for you to enjoy while I’m gone:

Over the past few days I’ve transferred all my blog entries from the old Lulu storefront where I sell my books, www.bluefishbooks.info , to this blog. Sorry, but I could not figure out how to bring your comments over with the postings. If you care to follow this blog since my first posting in January, it’s all there under archives now.

Donald has set up a Webalizer counter for my work.

The June stats for my website (www.cowart.info) show 116,249 hits (That’s folks who clicked on the site, saw my photo, and ran screaming into the bushes). Of those there were 8,331 readers from 82 countries who spent at least ten minutes on the site.

The June stats for my blog show 3,744 hits. Of those, 917 readers from 23 countries spent at least ten minutes on this blog.

Thank you very much. I appreciate your interest. I hope my words give you a lift. The main thing I always want to say in my stuff is that THERE IS HOPE.

So, while I’m goofing off the next few days, here’s a favorite joke from my stash:

Bible Quiz

Three ladies died and appeared at the Pearly Gates. The Recording Angel greeted them saying, “Welcome to Heaven. But before I can let you inside, you have to pass a quiz on your knowledge of the Bible. It’s easy, only one question for each of you. Ready?”

The ladies nodded so the Angel asked the first woman, “What was the name of the first man”?

“Oh, that’s an easy one,” she said, “His name was Adam”.

And the trumpets blew, and the angels sang, and the saints cheered, and the gates swung open, and she marched into Heaven.

The Angel asked the second woman, “Ready for your question? What was the name of the first woman”?

“Oh, that’s easy; her name was Eve,” she said.

And the trumpets blew, and the angels sang, and the saints cheered, and the gates swung open, and she marched into Heaven.

The last lady felt apprehensive, “I wish I’d have paid more attention in Sunday School,” she said. “But go ahead and ask your question”.

The Angel said, “What were the first words Eve said when she saw Adam?’

The woman wrung her hands and said, “Oh my goodness. That’s a hard one”.

And the trumpets blew, and the angels sang, and the saints cheered, and the gates swung open, ….

I Was Mad At God

Tuesday, I edited 52 pages of the Stacy Letters.

Nothing much more to say about the day.

I’ve visited blogs of several young men and women raising small children recently; Here’s a link to an article I wrote about an odd thing that happened when our kids were little, The Mattress In The Middle Of The Bridge. Hope you find a bit of encouragement there.

Getting Ready for the 4th of July

Eve passed a competitive exam and has been promoted to branch manager. Hurrah for her! She begins her new duties on July 5^th

Ginny’s agency moves into new construction on July 5^th. She serves on the moving committee planning the office relocation while keeping the services operating without disruption during the move.

Jennifer & Pat continue to show off their house hoping and praying it will sell before the 4^th of July weekend.

Patricia’s new semester at college starts with a heavy chemistry course.

Donald called last night and rhapsodized for an hour about the e-girl he met f2f; the guy is smitten. He enjoyed dinner with her family and plans to drive up there again soon. Then, he’s invited her to come here for a cookout with our family. If she does not run screaming into the bushes on meeting our gang, we’ll see what develops.

As for me, I’m still deep in the Stacy Letters. But, since I’d hoped to have them ready to publish in January, I doubt that I’ll have them ready by the 4^th. The task proved more difficult than I thought. For readability I’m converting his passive voice into active and I’m correcting his redundancies in which he continually repeats the same thing again and again thus duplicating the same information to create redundancies more than one or two times which I‘m correcting

To get in the spirit for the 4^th of July, you may enjoy reading a little bit of history I wrote; here’s a link to The Shelling Of Fort McHenry. It tells the background story around our National Anthem. I hope you like it.

.

A Rainy Weekend

A loaf of bread, a jug of wine, a James Bond video, a Whitman’s Sampler, and thee.

Like two bushy tailed squirrels in their nest, Ginny & I curled up in our nest for the whole rainy weekend talking, cuddling, reading, napping, cheering James Bond, and sampling chocolates. Heavenly.

Eve called saying she and Patricia had a blast at Antiques Roadshow.in Tampa. Turns out the appraiser determined that the most valuable thing we own is the old bowl we use to feed the raccoons. At auction, if the right collectors are present, it might bring between $30 and $50. I hope the coons appreciate that bit of refinement.

Donald skipped the Antiques Roadshow trip with his sisters. Instead, he drove north to meet f2f (that’s geek jargon for a live, in person meeting) with the “black-belt in belly dancing” girl.

At least I hope it’s a real girl, you never know when talking with a person online.

I think he (and she) took prudent precautions for their f2f: you know, first meeting in a public place, letting someone knowing where you are going and when to expect you back, etc.

When I began on the web Donald, himself, taught me a saying about internet security:

The World Wide Web,
Where the men are men,
And the women are men,
And the children are FBI agents!

Actually, I’m teasing. He’s proudly shown the family photos of her and (if the photos are not really those of some Hollywood starlet) she’s really a beautiful young woman and from everything he says about her, she’s charming, gracious and intelligent. A real prize. I wish them both joy.

.

I Was A Crusade Reject

This weekend in New York, 86-year-old Billy Graham conducts his last crusade.

Back in the year 2000, I was rejected when I volunteered as a councilor at the Jacksonville, Florida, Billy Graham Crusade.

A local newspaper published an article I wrote about the experience,. Click here if you’d like to read “Confessions of a Crusade Reject” .

I’m a guy who has kept a daily journal for ages. Some of these journal entries are posted on my website under the heading Today In Former Years. So, if you’re interested in reading my actual journal entry about how I drove a gaggle of ladies, (including one who screamed, shook her fist and threatened to punch the cop) to the Billy Graham Crusade, click on November 2nd and scroll down to the year 2000.

Ah, fond memories.

I still cringe.

About Trash & Beauty

Trash men control the ebb and flow of my life.

Used to be that all garbage was collected Monday; now, the regular garbage men still come on Monday, but the guys who pick up yard trash and recycle stuff do not show up till 6 a.m. Friday.

Therefore, unless you want yard trash piled in front of the house for a week, you have to get it out to the curb by Thursday evening.

All that by way of saying that instead of waiting for the weekend to do yard work, Thursday I cleared the fence line so that the debris could go to the curb for pick up today.

Not that I wanted to spend a weekday this way, but garbage men rule; they dictate the patterns of my life.

And here Bush thinks he runs the country. Ha!

During our prayer time this evening, in the Living Bible translation, Ginny & I ran across a beautiful verse I’d never noticed before:

Ask where the good road is,
The godly paths you used to walk in,
In the days of long ago.
Travel there,
And you will find rest for your souls.

Valuable things

The most blessed and useful word in the English language, I learned watching Antiques Roadshow, the tv program where people bring in worthless old stuff and have antique experts tell them that they have worthless old stuff.

That word is Patina.

I had never heard that word till I watched the Roadshow; now I use it all the time.

When Ginny wants me to dust my eleven bookcases, I can say, “But, Honey, that would destroy the patina”.

I love that word. “The refrigerator is developing a rich green patina” sounds so much nicer than saying, accumulated glop, grease, dirt and grime.

I spent much of the day putting away the WWI artillery shell, Civil War sword, the 1818 One-cent coin, and other debris left over from my history lecture at the library the other night. I’d just dumped this stuff in the corner of the living room anticipating needing them again this week. But today I’m on a clutter reduction kick so I packed it all away.

For a guy who is not a materialist, I accumulate so much STUFF!

Like a squirrel squirreling nuts away for the winter, I accumulate things I may need someday. I have bottled water for the next hurricane. I have parts for a clock I'll repair when I can get to it; books I eventually plan to read, clippings for an article I may someday write. I have a box of toys in case we ever have a grandchild. Until this morning, when I packed them up for the mission, I even had a dozen shirts to wear again in case I ever loose six inches around my waist!

Someone in our family fell into a spot of trouble recently and our kids gathered at our house tonight to talk things over and develop a plan for helping. The problem is too big for any one of us the handle alone, so they planned a group effort to get the stupid ox out of the ditch, to rescue the distressed, and to comfort the troubled one – while unmercifully teasing the hell out of her for getting into the situation in the first place.

The kids have tickets to Antiques Roadshow in Tampa next weekend; so after supper they looted our house looking for stuff to take to have evaluated:… this 1829 engraving of King Charles II, that old Hall’s bowl we use to feed the raccoons, Ginny’s grandmother’s teapot, 45 records, the 1920s statue of the dancing girl – old stuff.

Ginny & I watch amused as they plunder the house searching for treasures – they don’t realize that the most precious thing in this house is them.

.

Some Days...

Another wasted day in a wasted life.

I spent Tuesday rushing to get to places I didn't really want to go, listening to news I didn't want to hear, and running errands I didn't want to run, all of no consequence.

Some days are like that.

--------------
I posted the above about 4 a.m. (yes I get up that early, courtesy of age and prostate) before I scanned the blogs I usually check each morning. Imagine my surprise to find a glowing review of my site at

: http://wilkeworld.blogspot.com/

Ginny especially likes his phrase, "John is rightly self depreciating".

I'm flattered with Mr. Jones' attention to my work; he usually writes delightful, entertaining stories about the triumphs and tribulations of raising a 2-year-old.

Seeing his review of my work is really a great way to start the day. I'm e-mailing a copy of his review to the Nobel Prize For Literature people; maybe they'll take a hint. I've already started writing my acceptance speech: I'd like to thank the academy...

I'm Gloating & Preening for an hour

Monday’s mail brought a package from Indonesia, the most populous Muslim nation on earth.

Wow, was I tickled! I’ve been expecting this package .knowing it would contain the Indonesian translation of a little book on prayer that I wrote years ago. I wanted to rip it open to see my work in this exotic language…

Really strokes my vanity to have my work translated into another tongue.

However, given the state of the world and what’s been happening in Indonesia recently, I decided it prudent to take the package outside, away from the house, before gently opening it. There have been some white powder mailings between Indonesia and Australia in the news.

But, nothing suspicious in this package, just two copies of my book in a language I can’t read – except for my own name on the cover.

I’m as pleased as a kitten catching its very first mouse and I gave myself permission to preen and gloat for one hour.

In English, the title of the book is: Why Don’t I Get What I Pray For? Or, in a more recent edition, I’m Confused About Prayer. It is a frivolous religious humor book with hardly any redeeming social value.

Yet the translators and folks who produced the book over there have been through Hell to bring this bit of froth into print.

In January the tsunami struck killing 200,000 people in Indonesia. February, an earthquake killed another 9,000. Since then, several humanitarian relief workers have been shot as they tried to help. Unsanitary conditions have spawned a polio epidemic killing over 50 children and crippling scores of others. A car bomb set off in a Christian market place killed 25 and mangled many others. Churches have been burned and Christians live in daily jeopardy. And yesterday’s Google news said avian flu has spread to Indonesia…

And here what I have to offer this troubled nation is a flippant bit of religious humor in a book which proclaims me as the World’s Foremost Authority on Unanswered Prayer because I’ve prayed for more things and didn’t get them than anyone else I know of.

Is that the sort of thing these readers need?

Maybe so. Maybe no.

I couldn’t swear to it, but it could be that God’s hand is in the timing. I’d like to think so, but I just don’t know.

Anyhow, if you are inclined to pray for this troubled land, please ask the Lord to use this little book to honor Himself and to help troubled folks in pain.

I’ve scanned in a picture of the book cover (below); I have no idea of how to pronounce the title.

If anyone wants to buy a copy of the English edition of this book, I’m Confused About Prayer, go to www.lulu.com/bluefish ;-- If you can’t afford to buy a copy, look in the left-hand column of my website, http://www.cowart.info/ under the title Why Don’t I Get What I Pray For? And you can read it on line for free. --- Same book, different editions.

Anyhow, I gave myself permission to preen and gloat over my beautiful book for an hour and that hour is over so it’s time to get back to work, there’s a filter to clean, trash to take out, and a customer service (HA!) representative to butt heads with. Real life goes on..



John's book on prayer in Indonesian
www.cowart.info

A Happy, Happy Weekend

Friday, June 17, 2005

Worked on Stacy Letters.

Lunch with Barbara at Silver Star.

For our Friday Night Date, Gin & I ate a quite supper at Tad’s then went for a long stroll through Memorial Park.

Actually we did not so much stroll as drift from park bench to park bench listening to soft mood music floating from a party or such across the way as we watched the sunset and a group of young people frolicking around the fountain. Our conversation’s topics ranged from health and living wills, to gardening, vacation plans, church, AIDS, friends, diaries, agency policies, branding, sex, charities, fishing, and Nute Grinrich.

It was so good to enjoy an uninterrupted, 4-hour conversation.

Saturday, June 18, 2005

Worked on Stacy Letters.

For some reason the kids wanted to observe Fathers’ Day today so we met them for lunch at Blue Boy’s Sandwich Shop in Arlington.

Gin & I both ordered Western Steak. They construct these sandwiches. by grilling strips of beef with shredded onion and scrambled eggs with mushrooms, and hot peppers. Then, I suspect, they liberally sprinkle the huge home-baked loaves of bread with opium to make the sandwich addictive!

We have been going to Blue Boys again and again since the kids were little enough to need boaster seats. The cooks and waitresses know to run when they see the Cowarts coming because we’ve celebrated innumerable birthdays and graduation get togethers there.

Actually, today’s get-together resembled a country fair swap meet as the kids all exchanged stuff they’d borrowed from each other and then borrowed new stuff. Cameras, I-pods, clocks, books, clothes and even a tea pot changed hands!

And everybody caught up on news of everybody else as though it had been months, instead of days, since they last met. Eve has been contacted about that job in the South Seas. Pat & Jennifer are gaining a sidewalk and their disgruntled neighbor’s brandishing a gun, Patricia is taking chemistry next semester and Donald spent the night talking on the phone with an e-girl he’s never actually seen.

This last bit of news brought on a flurry of sisterly relationship advise – it was like being in the middle of a Dr.Phil/Opra/Dear Abby. Ann Launders/Jerry Springer Convention.

When it came out that the e-girl studies belly dancing, Patricia revealed that she too studies belly dancing. Jennifer thought belly dancing was a martial art like aikido or karate and asked if the e-girl has “a black belt in belly dancing”!

At that remark we all got to laughing so hard I thought they’d put us out of Blue Boy’s. Great fun. I’m sorry Fred & John missed this one.

Few things please me more that know our children get along so well together. They really like eachother and enjoy getting together often without us old folks.

Apparently the night before, they’d gone to a nightclub specializing in improv comedy, and tonight they were either going to a baseball game or, if it rains, meeting at Jennifer’s house to watch Japanese enema movies (Can that be right? Some kind of jap cartoons, although, knowing our kids???)

After lunch Gin & I drove to the Angel Aid Thrift Store – a charity raising funds for kids with terminal illnesses – where she bought some books and dresses and I bought a new desk chair. A very profitable stop.

The family decided to meet again at Dave’s for breakfast tomorrow. (they gave me a Dave’s tee-shirt to wear)..

My Dave's Diner Tee Shirt
www.cowart.info

Sunday, June 19, 2005

After church we met the kids at Dave’s. I wore my tee-shirt and the cooks and waiters seemed delighted. Said I had to come behind the counter and cook. Great fun.

Now, I know nothing about anybody else’s sex life, but I’m told that if Dave’s sold liquor it would be considered a gay bar and judging only from the appearance of some customers, that may be right. In fact, I have religious friends who refuse to eat there. Their loss. Gin & I love Dave’s and go at every opportunity. Unto the pure all things are pure, everybody else thinks like I do.

We had a wonderful time.

After breakfast, as a special Father’s Day treat, Jennifer & Pat led us all to a park to show us tall pine tree with an osprey nest! We could actually see three squawking fledglings in the nest. while Mama Osprey soared far above.

Investigating the foot of the tree below the nest we discovered the ground littered with fish bones and scraps dropped from above.

I’d never seen such before!

Quite a thrill!

Osprey Nest w Fledglings
www.cowart.info

Back home I found that Rex had not only repaired the lawnmower but had come over and mowed my front yard. Nice surprise.

After a swim Ginny & I sacked out in front of the tv watching a b-movie called The Body. Derick Jacoby (sp), Star of I, Claudius and the Brother Caedfile series and one of our favorite actors, played a bit part.

It was about a bunch of silly twerps in Jerusalem who found the body of a crucified man in a tomb and immediately assumed that they’d found the bones of Jesus. So they got all aflutter.

Apparently the film writers and directors have never read a history book. As best I recall the ancient historian Josephus mentions the Romans crucifying as many as 700 men a day during the siege of Jerusalem by Tiberius. Of course, there are crucified men buried all over the place. They’ve been found before and the finding of another one, while a curiosity, has no bearing on the truth Christ rising from death.

I find the Alexamenos graffito, the earliest known picture of Christ, much more significant. I keep a copy of that above my desk and wrote an article, called The Ugliest Picture In The World, about it once.

I think it is hauntingly precious.

But anyhow, in the movie, cars blew up, cute children got kidnapped, the hero made the bad guy swallow a hand grenade, one priest got the girl while the other committed suicide by jumping off a bell tower – and great fun was had by all.

After the movie we both fell asleep on the sofa while the tv droned on unheeded into the night. A great Fathers’ Day.

P.S.: While he was over, Donald posted a bunch of photos of the weekend on one of his web sites and he repaired my blog archives.

Something My Daddy Did

I am already older than my father was when he died.

Before his death in 1979, my father, Zade Maxwell Cowart Jr., a Jacksonville native and a master molder, worked at NAS-JAX.

There he crafted parts for some of NASA's 1971 Lunar Rover equipment, the golf-cart like vehicle astronauts used to drive around on the moon's surface and abandoned when they left.

Yes, astronauts took my Daddy's work from Jacksonville to the moon.

It's still up there.



Lunar Rover (far right) was abandoned on
the surface of the moon

www.cowart.info

Blast from the Past -- June 18, 2000

Nothing to enter today(June 18, 2005) ; I sat at my desk all day editing the Stacy ms. I’ve kept a daily journal for ages so, just for fun, I decided to see what I’d been doing five years ago today.

Here a copy of my posting for June 18, 2000 :

This morning we met Coconut, a huge white talking bird that lives on Forbes Street. As we walked from the bus stop to church we saw this enormous bird perched on a house gate and we thought it was a ceramic figure until it raised a ruff of feathers on its neck and said, "Hello".

We were so surprised.

The bird's owner -- a beautiful, stacked young woman in a halter top with no bra and a significant set of raised nipples -- came out and introduced us telling us that Coconut is a macaw. She lifted the bird from the gate and let me hold it and it walked along my arm up to my shoulder. What a nice surprise to find on the way to church.

Since the sanctuary is being restored, service was held in Craig Lounge where the pastor preached on the Trinity. In the Roman's class the teacher, Wes Basset, expounded his view of what happens to unsaved people after death; but I feel suspicious of any doctrine you have to know Greek to believe.

Gin & I enjoyed a pleasant walk home and spent an hour reading the newspaper and browsing through the comics.

We spent another hour cleaning the sidewalls of the pool, playing and splashing around. Then Ginny went inside to spend a little alone time in her office.

Last time we went to the library I checked out a book on topiary, the shaping and training of plants into geometric figures or statues. I have long wanted to try this, ever since I read The Children of Green Knowe and Stephen King's The Shinning.

We have a waist-high cedar tree over near the tool shed and I decided to shape it into a spiral form I saw in the book. Following the step by step instructions in the book -- didn't work.

So I reversed the process, and using a stuff copper wire I'd found along the railroad tracks and my clippers I turned out a charming cedar spiral! It looks even better than I envisioned it. I am delighted. What fun!

We are already training a climbing rose around a vertical hulla-hoop and, of course, we have our 12-foot tall Confederate jasmine cross; now, with this cedar spiral, we plan to take on a giant figure of a green man next. I'm excited about that project and spend hours daydreaming about how to do it and what it will look like.

When Ginny came out the spiral delighted her.

We sat a few hours on the deck reading our separate books. I studied Burns' TIC-TOC technique -- that means task-interfering-cognitions/ task-oriented-cognitions. After my appointment with Ray tomorrow I plan to work on the will of God book beginning at 1 p.m.

When it began to rain, we came in and ate Salty's leftovers for supper then read till bedtime.

Patricia called to wish me a happy fathers day and set up a picnic with us for next Saturday.

That was today five years ago.

This was not our best day.

The new doctor gave Ginny more tests than an eighth-grade English teacher. Then he arranged for additional tests. We will not learn any results from any of this for four or five weeks.

Aside from that, Mrs. Lincoln, how did you enjoy the play?

The high point of our day: we watched a huge pileated woodpecker tap its way around the oak tree beside our home. This was the first we’ve seen in ages.

Here’s a copy of an Audubon print of a pileated woodpecker:

Pileated Woodpecker
www.cowart.info

Long convoluted posting about... life?

Bluejays have decided that the figs on our luscious fig tree are ripe enough to plunder.

Whenever I look at this tree beside our fountain, I remember Sheba, our black lab who lived to be 17 years old. Sheba loved to eat figs from that tree and when the fruit was ripe that stupid dog would stand up and walk around and around the tree on her hind legs browsing figs off the lower branches like a deer. It was the funniest thing to see.

I miss her.

All the recent rains cause our grass to flourish so I decided to mow early before the temperature reached 98 degrees. The mower would not start.

I cleaned the air filter. It still wouldn’t start.

I cleaned the spark plug. It still wouldn’t start.

I sharpened the blade and drained the fuel line. It still wouldn’t start.

All the time driving around town I see these bumper stickers saying WWJD? Meaning What Would Jesus Do? I think the idea is for people to ask that question then do the same thing as the imagine Jesus doing in the same situation.

Doesn’t work for me.

I mean can you imagine Jesus working on a lawnmower that won’t start?. Pulling the cord? Cleaning the filter? Pulling the cord? Draining the fuel line? Pulling the cord? In 98 degree heat?

I imagine He would regard the thing as a mechanical fig tree and “withered it to the roots”. That’s biblical.

But I’m not able to do that. Bumper sticker religion doesn’t work for me. So I’ll ask my friend Rex, who is mechanical, to look at the mower.

Way back when, to support our family I worked as the night janitor in a building where, among other things, I cleaned a dozen or so toilets and urinals. I remember complaining long and loud in prayer about how this menial task was so below my dignity. “I’m a writer for Heaven’s sake and, Lord, would you just look at this filthy mess! Can you imagine Jesus cleaning urinals?”

Apparently God is not too impressed with my dignity. In fact, He thinks I can do without it. I realized that I should clean each urinal as though Jesus Christ Himself would be the next guy to use it.

Actually, there is a biblical parallel to that situation.

Remember when Jesus washed the feet of His disciples at the Last Supper? Why did He do that? Well, these guys walked everywhere. Hundreds of horses, camels, donkeys, and such plied the streets of Jerusalem.

None was equipped with emission control devices.

His foot washing was not an esoteric religious ceremony or quaint sample of pious humility. Jesus washed the feet of His disciples because their feet were dirty.

He demonstrated that Almighty God come in the flesh is willing to clean up the shit we get into.

Speaking of getting into bad shit, Ginny goes to a new doctor for the first time tomorrow. Last night while she was ironing dresses for work, I sat in with her smoking my pipe and we talked for a long time about how her diabetes is changing so many areas of our life.

The disease influences everything from our eating habits to the rhythms of our sex life (Hey, after 37 years of foreplay, we’re beginning to get really good at this sex thing) and how we drive the car, and what shoes she can wear, and our sleep patterns, and how we pray and our conversations, and even what library books we check out.

None of the really super bad-nasties of diabetes have hit us yet, but we live each day walking on eggs with the sword hanging over us.

It’s a bitch but we plan to cope with whatever comes whenever it comes.

It is scary.

God, but I love her so.

This afternoon since I couldn’t mow, I pruned dead palm fronds from a couple of trees.

Now, God’s tiny little creatures called wasps nest among the palm fronds where they buzz happily, humming their way through the day, nestled among the dry leaves, going about their business of leading productive lives.

So I climbed the ladder, pruning shears in hand, believing in a life of harmony with nature, co-existing with fellow creatures in peace, love and brotherhood.

Wasps will not sting me.

I am a Christian….. ---

Damn heathen bugs!.

Hand me the Raid!

----
It's after 5 a.m. now, I'd better quit journaling and get to work!.

Crabs In a Bucket

My friend Wes came over and drove me all over on various odd errands.

We enjoyed a long conversation with topics ranging from roofing problems to the translation of Hebrew words for various metals such as bronze, brass, iron & steel. I can’t imagine having such a conversation with anyone else I know.

Wes, who lives better than he believes, is quite a theologian and scholar; he places great store in biblical scholarship. He said that Bible-believing scientists, theologians, researchers and scholars tend to be more accurate and honest because they have an ethical imperative which gives them an edge on honesty.

On the other hand, I think all academics have deceitful hearts just like the rest of humanity and they can not be relied on for diddle squat.

Being smart does not make one honest. Computer virus attacks are not launched by dummy dorks but by really bright, knowledgeable geeks -- whose minds, while smart, are corupt.

I suspect that liberal scientists, researchers, scholars and theologians lie and cheat and steal to enhance their own reputation and garner grant money. They falsify lab test results, plagiarize, and distort facts. --- I see no difference when it comes to Bible-believing scholars. I suspect that they too have a theory to support and they too will distort facts, manipulate dates, and do whatever to enhance reputation, earn grant money, and justify their own theories.

Peas in a pod.

Crabs in a bucket; when one starts up the side, the others pull him back down.

I think there is little honesty among researchers, doctors, scholars, scientists, theologians or (speak for yourself, John) historians -- especially historians.

Don’t believe me? Try reading an account of a Civil War battle written by a Confederate general and an account of that same battle by a damnyankee general.

When I voiced my cheerful, optomistic, crabs-in-a-bucket world-view, Wes asked me what then do I actually believe?

I believe that Jesus Christ is Lord, that He rose from death, and that He’d kinda like for us to behave till He comes back; everything else is peripheral intellectual froth.

My scholarly friend Wes
www.cowart.info

As WEs and I drove around town on errands, one stop included Chamblin's Bookmine (The store long featured a window sign declaring they sold: "Rare, Out-of-Print & Non-existent Books"!).. Ron Chamblin, owner of the store, said he plans to carry copies of my Jacksonville history book, Crackers & Carpetbaggers. So, this evening I told the group at the library they could buy copies at Chamblin's.

I think my lecture on Jacksonville history went well. The audience listened with intensity and paid rapt attention to my show & tell demonstrations.

But I am basically a shy person so public speaking leaves me utterly drained, practically quivering.

Well, Lord, what's next?

Bad Night

Bad night last night.

After going to bed at 11 p.m., I dreamed that I was in some government office, (Department of Motor Vehicles, I.R.S., Electric Authority, something of the sort) where I filled out some long form with tiny print.

Had to fill the thing out while standing at a tall counter with poor lighting. I could not understand the form and couldn’t see to read what all those little boxes said. All the while, some officious clerk rushed me to hurry.

This dream disturbed me. Feeling pressured, I woke up at 11:45.

Got up. Pissed. Ate two bowls of Cheerios. Since I was wide awake anyhow, I worked for a couple of hours editing the Stacy Letters.

I wanted to be fresh and alert for my lecture on Jax history tonight – but all the people will get is me mumbling in a stupor. At least, I'll have the Civil War sword, the paleo-Indian blade, the Titanic newspaper, the WWI autilery shell, and such to show them. My speeches are always extentions of kindergarten "Show & Tell" exercises.

As Ginny got in the car to drive to work this morning she told me, “God’s in His Heaven – He knows where He’s not wanted – and all’s screwed up in the world”.

,

John Cowart: King Of Geriatric Geeks

I’ve finally managed to post photos on my Blog!

Wow!

I’ve been trying to do this since January when I posted on my http://www.lulu.com/bluefish Blog. I could never figure out how to do it.

But I subscribe to the TU-Dogs Newsletter (a site which evaluates free software at http://www.tudogs.com/ ) and downloaded a free program called Picasa2 -- which I think is put together by Google people.

In only a few short hours, with many starts and re-tries, I posted my first photo: Me (naturally) with my famous elkhorn pipe.

Wow! I’m so tickled.

This morning I feel like such a master of the web that I think I’ll eat flies for breakfast!

.

Another tasteful statue chosen by John to decorate our garden.
www.cowart.info

I am just learning how to put photos in this blog so I decided to show off our garden so you'll know what I mean when my posting just says, "Spent the day doing yard work".

A Secret Place in our garden
www.cowart.info

Queen of the Night. Each huge blosom lasts only a single night. We've had as many as 20 bloom at once.
www.cowart.info

John's Choice of A Garden Statue
www.cowart.info

I come to the garden alone...
have to, can't get my kids to mow.
www.cowart.info

? Flower from our garden
www.cowart.info

Firecracker Aloe
www.cowart.info

Angel Trumpet
www.cowart.info

Ginny In The Park
www.cowart.info

Another test: Now, isn't this a better photo? For some reason the text is shouted (Huge & Bold) at me in super large print when I type it, but is reduced when published. I need to work on this a lot.

My Elkhorn Pipe
www.cowart.info

This is a test. Although I've tried many times, this is the first time ever I've got a photo to actually appear (maybe). The pipe, a gift from Donald, is one from my antler article.

A Beautiful Day

Bands from tropical storm Arlene brought day-long soaking rain, a perfect gray day to snuggle, cuddle, sip tea, read, nap and talk – which is how Ginny & I spent the day.

After breakfast at Dave’s, we drove to the library to look over the meeting room where I’m to speak next week. We found that the librarian who invited me to lecture on Jax history was transferred. The librarian in charge now had not noticed the meeting on her schedule so we quickly planned the program.

Back home to read, edit a few more Stacy letters, chat, and just be together while the rain sealed us in and the world out.

In the evening we watched a video of The Adams Family. Delightful! It may be odd, but we identify with the love affair of Morticia and Gomez, the most wholesome couple in Hollywood movies. We are so blessed!

.

Unnecessary upset

Turns out that yesterday I got all upset over nothing.

That happens all too often.

Returning to the bank did not consume all of my dayor cost me exta money. When I went in, the banker immediately saw the mistake the bank had made and fired off an e-mail correcting it.

Problem solved.

Took three minutes.

All my fussing and fuming and worry were all over a trifle.

Do you know how often that happens?

Just about every time I get upset.

You’d think I’d have learned by now. But, No. I rave and rant and cuss and fuss and make myself and everyone around me miserable, while God just sits there in Heaven watching, calm as can be, not excited at all, apparently not realizing that we have a 4-alarm panic situation down here!!!

And you know what?

Turns out He's right every time.

When the faith hits the fan

Sometimes I forget I’m a Christian.

Theoretically, when I’m feeling pious, I acknowledge that Jesus Christ is my lord and that 100% of my time, money and energy are at His disposal. That’s not too hard to do when I’m at prayer.

However, when the faith hits the fan, unexpected demands on my time, money or energy outrage me. I forget all those flowery dedicated feelings, and I want to kick ass.

Case in point: the banks and my international transfer of funds.

Yes, the banks screwed up the transfer I made Tuesday.

But did my bank notify me about it? NO! I learned of it from an e-mail from overseas Thursday.

Somehow between here and there, the bank’s printer, a dot matrix apparently, changed the letter “Y” in a person’s name to an “F”! And although the account numbers and all other information on the form were correct, the overseas bank refuses to release the money until I personally make another trip to our local bank, and sign a transfer amendment saying that the form they filled out on Tuesday is correct.

Therefore, today (Friday) I must cancel planned tasks, bum a ride to the local bank, tell them exactly what I told them before, then wait till over the weekend before the cash transfer is in place. And since I’d scheduled rather pressing duties for today, this unnecessary bite out of my time, energy, and money outrages me

I want to kick and scream and cuss and throw things and call names and act as though ….My time, money and energy are 100 % at the disposal of Jesus Christ to do with as He wishes.

It is His money and it will get to where it’s supposed to be in His good time. Did I think it wouldn’t? He is the source of all power; do I really think He won’t give me what energy is needed to do my duty today?

I am a Christian for maybe ten minutes at a time, then, when the faith hits the fan, I revert to my natural grouchy state and forget the whole thing.

Well OK, Lord, if You insist…

But if I were God, things would be a lot different around here!

There’s a lot of perfectly good lightening just going to waste.

-----------------

Now for happier news:

First, today I finished the initial editing of another 40 pages of the Stacy ms; only another 150 pages left.

Webalizer software reveals that over 3,000 readers from 74 countries have spent at least ten minutes each on my website, www.cowart.info . I’m tickled.

Then, today’s mail brought a notice from the publisher in the Philippines that last month they sold 336 copies of the book I wrote on prayer! Wow! I’m hot on the heels of Stephen King now. Also, I received notice from the publisher in Indonesia that, after many delays, their translation of that same book on prayer came off the press last week!

Thanks be to God.

And, a librarian called telling me that the Jacksonville Public Library plans to place a bulk order for both my history of Jacksonville, Crackers & Carpetbaggers, and for copies of my science fiction novel, The Lazarus Projects .

All three of these books can be ordered online from my Bluefish Books Storefront, www.bluefishbooks.info .

Good news on all fronts – but that bank mess still peeves me.

Lord, please show mercy to John Cowart, a sinner.

.

Bug Zapped!

Wow!
This morning my blog/website has been bug zapped by Funky Bug! I think this is the equivalent of winning a Pulitzer on the web. I'm tickled. This is the nicest thing to happen to me all morning!
Wow!

My frustrating long-term affair with Stacy

From 4 a.m. to 9 p.m. Wednesday I sat at the computer working on the Stacy Letters; got another 45 pages edited.

Since I changed blogging programs last month,(the earlier postings are on my Bluefish Books Storefront ) it might be well to post some information about these Stacy Letters here, so I’m just copying a few excerpts from my February journals when I first began this project:

Copy of Journal entry for Feb 22, 05:

A few years ago I found a sheath of old letters stuffed in the back of a wooden file drawer I bought at a yard sale somewhere in Riverside. After a glance I put them aside as something interesting to be looked at later.

A few months ago I came across them again and I found them so fascinating that I've decided to publish them on my Bluefish Books Storefront. I feel they ought to be preserved both for their charming style and for their historic content.

Slight problem: some letters had been crumpled and all had been folded and refolded so many times that my scanner will not pick up the full text.

So, first I spent a few hours removing rusty staples being careful to keep the pages in order because they are not numbered.

Then, I spent hours and hours flat ironing dozens and dozens and dozens of these letters one page at a time.

Does Stephen King prepare his manuscripts this way?

Anyhow, if my career as a writer ever goes belly up, I have a trade to fall back on – I can take in ironing.

From Feb 23^rd Journal:

I attempted to scan in the letters I ironed yesterday. HA! I tried and tried and tried but nothing I tried worked; the scanner would overwrite all previously scanned pages and save only the last page. Drove me nuts.

I called Donald who came over and did something or another to the machine and taught me how to do it right. Thank God for him.

From Feb. 24^th: Journal:

Click. Click. Click. Swish. Swish. Swish. Whirrr. Whirrr. Whirr. Click. Click. Click. Swish. Swish. Swish. Whirr. Whirr ….

That’s been my day. John Cowart, human document feeder as I fed 200+ pages of Stacy’s letters through the scanner from 3:30 a.m. till 3:30 p.m.

Ah, the excitement and romance of a writer’s life. Gives me an adrenaline high.

From Feb 25^th Journal:

Spent most of the day avoiding work, i.e. formatting those Stacy Letters. The manuscript text scans in at assorted sizes and I puzzle over how to make them uniform.

From Feb 28^th Journal:

I sat at my desk fiddling with updates to my website (www.cowart.info) and making changes in the format of the Stacy Letters. Somehow in scanning the letters into my computer, I managed to get some of them in portrait and some in landscape and I’ve not been able to do them consistently but Donald advised me to save the files in plain text then transfer them to Word format and that worked fine – but it was nerve racking. I feel these letters are too important to lose to a computer glitch ( meaning my not knowing how to use a computer).

Back to Today, June 9^th, 2005:

The above Journal entries give some idea of what the Stacy Letters are and how I’ve been working on them since February.

Incidentally, I have kept a daily journal for about 30 years and if anyone has any interested in reading a few excerpts from my fascinating past, you can find some in the middle of the right hand column on my website at www.cowart.info .

Rant, rant, rant: I'm pissed over tv news!

The tv news last night reported on a growing trend among companies to fire all smokers. Many companies already have a policy in place not to hire smokers in new positions.

The reason cited for these policies is the health risks to employees who smoke increases the cost of medical insurance, and that smokers may take more sick days than non smokers.

Employer smoking bans apply not only to smoking on the job site but during off-duty hours at home. And some companies actually give employees random breathalyzer tests to hunt for tobacco intake during the past 48 hours; employees who test positive twice are fired immediately.

All in the guise of controlling health costs.

This is an inconsistent, unreasonable invasion of individual rights to privacy!

Now, any employer has the right to dictate what happens on the job – but what happens when you are off the clock in your own car or in your own home?

Inconsistent and unreasonable?

What about fat people?

Obesity can lead to all sorts of health problems. In fact, the tv news said that some companies are already dictating exercise and diet policies, another invasion of individual rights, in the name of lower healthcare costs.

When will they fire, or refuse to hire, black employees?

The tragedy of Sickle Cell Anemia makes many blacks in danger of health risks.

What about diabetics?

Should they ever be hired?

Of course, employers should never hire any female of child bearing age because it costs so much to have a baby.

They should never hire homosexuals who may be at risk for AIDS. In fact they should never even hire sexually mature heterosexuals who may also contract AIDS or a venereal disease.

So, who does that leave?

To be consistent in guarding the health of employees, these companies should only employ elderly, white, non-smoking, non-diabetic, scrawny, males who could not benefit from even a double dose of Viagra.

And, judging from the appearance of the old guy on tv who acted so proud to be his company’s spokesman about the smoking policy, that’s just exactly what they’ve done.

Bank Robbery

There is one verse of Scripture that I consistently live by more than any other.

It is Matthew 6:3 where Jesus talked about the right hand not knowing what the right hand is doing – or something like that.

For several months now thoughts of a costly project have bugged me off and on. Ginny & I have talked about this several times but felt we could not afford it and she has not had strong feelings about doing it.

We have often prayed about this endeavor and get zilch for an answer. I told Ginny that I can’t tell if I’m being prompted by the Holy Spirit or if it’s just that I have a bug in my ass to get this project done.

Ginny, ever the practical Christian, replied, “Love, sometimes a bug in your ass IS the prompting of the Holy Spirit”.

Well, yesterday we realized that now we have both the ability and the opportunity for this project so we decided to transfer a little money into an overseas account.

Since I would not have the car today, last night I called my friend Wes to bum a ride to the bank and this morning he abandoned working on his roof to take me to breakfast, to The Lord’s Store Mission, and to the bank.

For an inexperienced person like me making an international funds transfer is a daunting affair. When Gin & I tried it once before, both our credit union and Western Union refused to do it, we were unable to do it online, and our bank insisted that I personally come in to their office, hand them cash and sign all the papers – and our bank took ¼ of the money as a transfer fee! This is one of the same great banks that lost the credit records of 300,000 customers last week, but boy were they minding security with my request today!

The financial institution overseas takes another ¼ of our money as their fee for allowing us to deposit money in their bank!!!

So between them the two banks stole one half of the money we transferred – and the transaction will take Five business days to complete --- Haven’t these banks ever heard of computers?

Bank robbers and robber banks have a lot in common.

But anyhow, for good or ill, I got it done.

Wes & I talked for a couple of hours (everything from abortion rights to cooking on a wood stove to roof repairs) so again the middle of my day was gone and I did not edit a single page of the Stacy Letters.

By definition a writer is a person who writes; by definition an unemployed, sorry bum is a guy who says he’s a writer but is not actually writing….

I think I’ll take a nap.

Our Daughter, the television star!

Sunday evening our middle daughter appeared on television.

She looked lovely.

Star of the show.

Our local PBS tv station held one of their interminable fund raising drives and our daughter was a volunteer phone operator. She is constantly volunteering for this sort of thing. Whenever they hold a walk for muscular dystrophy, cerebral palsy, cancer, AIDS, whatever, you can always look for her in the crowd. She spent her day off Saturday helping in a learn to read campaign.

I’m delighted that she has such a caring heart.

Blogging and lunch consume my day

I’m beginning to think blogging is addictive.

This morning in reading the various blogs I follow, I read an account of one person’s spiritual struggle to feel forgiven for past sins. There are ten or 12 blogs I follow daily and I often pray for the people whose paths cross mine in this manner. I really care about these folks.

All morning long I pondered about whether to reply and what I should say if I did. I ended up writing a comment that was wayyy to long.

It felt intrusive to comment at length like that and I’m not at all sure whether or not I was being helpful or just being pedantic and paternalistic. God knows.

Barbara had to drive her grandkids on an errand and came over for lunch between dropping them and picking them up again. She brought two nice coats for Ginny and three boxes of books for me (which I haven’t even opened yet). She ended up staying at our house about three hours talking about some book (I’ve forgotten the title) which she finds helpful. I enjoyed our lunch but the visit took a large bite right out of the middle of my day so I hardly got any work done..

Between commenting on that blog and lunch with Barbara, I felt too exhausted to do much of anything else today. Stacy awaits me but he’ll just have to wait.

Ginny & I went for a walk and exercise in Memorial Park (appropriate today being the anniversary of the Normandy Invasion). I felt too bad to walk much. My idea of exercise is to sit on a park bench smoking my pipe and watching other guys fish.

.

No good deed...

Ginny claims that when I go out of the house a huge neon sign floats in the air above my head flashing the word “SUCKER”.

Bums, winos and street people see this flashing sign and home in on me knowing instinctively that they’ve spotted the world’s softest touch who will swallow any sob story.

Well, I was out mowing a neighbor’s huge back yard (long story) in heat pushing 90 degrees. As I worked in the thick grass I was thinking that I’m too old and feeble to do such heavy work. I looked up from my work and there in front of me stood a stood a stranger, an elderly gentleman older and more feeble than I am. He asked me if he could mow the yard to earn a couple of dollars because he is hungry.

Now, obviously I could not turn a total stranger loose in my neighbor’s back yard so I told him that I had to finish this work myself, but that maybe I could find a bit of help for him. Since I was working in my swimsuit and tee-shirt, I had no cash on me, so I left him sitting in the shade while I walked back to our house and to get a bit of change to give him.

Had to scrounge around in pants, billfold and dresser drawer to scrape together some cash. Then I walked back to the neighbor’s and handed the old guy enough to buy a burger.

I was feeling pretty virtuous about how kind I am to God’s poor and how righteous I am to go to all this trouble to get the old man a few dollars, and how that I am a shining example of Christian charity in action.

The Good Lord in Heaven looked down on the scene and said, “John Cowart, you smug, self-righteous prick! I’m going to have to take the wind out of your sails”.

So I handed the stranger his money, graciously received his thanks, waved bye as he left, and immediately stepped back into a nest of fireants.

God’s tiny little creatures responded.

They climbed upward and began stinging at my knees and proceeded to work their way north.

It’s difficult to feel smug and self-righteous with fireants conducting war games in your pubic hair. I think I could swear that I heard tiny helicopters and music; they were playing “Flight of the Valkyries” from Apocalypse Now.

Unregenerate cynics sneer saying that no good deed goes unpunished.

Even though I’m a Christian, today I’m inclined to agree with them.

A Writer's Life: Adventure, Passion, Thrills & Romance

I sat in front of the computer all day editing the manuscript of Letters From Stacy; up to page 100 now.

When Ginny got home, for our Friday Night Date we drove to the library to check out pleasure reading. Then we drove to Bar-B-Q Junction on San Juan Avenue where we read our books, ate great BBQ, and watched the rain hardly speaking to eachother.

Back home we put on some music, sat in our rockers and read our books all evening.

Can you stand the excitement?

Everything I know about prayer, I learned from my dog.

For some reason today I’ve been thinking a lot about what my dog taught me about prayer and understanding God’s will.

Sheba, our black lab, lived with us for 17 years; she’s been dead for four years now. After her initial shots, we never took her to the vet again, and, in spite of common knowledge to the contrary, we usually fed her table scarps, and on rare occasions a can of dog food..

One day as I was driving in heavy rain the rubber blade on my windshield wiper gave out. A nuisance. The next Saturday while Ginny was shopping at WalMart, I bought some replacement blades and took them home to mount on the car.

Here I am parked in our drive on a bright sunny day trying to squeeze those rubber refills into the metal fixture. And Sheba sat alertly watching what interesting thing I was doing.

She whined and pawed the ground but she never took her eyes off me. She could not have watched more intently if I’d have been opening a can of Alpo. She cocked her head from one side to the other and gave every indication of yearning to help me accomplish whatever it was that I was doing. She seemed distressed that I was having trouble getting the task done.

I laughed.

And I just loved that stupid old dog for wanting to help.

That night at my prayers I puzzled over some situation I just could not understand; why had God let such-and-such happen?

Why didn’t He listen to my fervent prayer and advice about how to remedy the situation?

How can I follow the will of God when I don’t even understand what it is He’s trying to do?

Why does God want us to pray when most of the time we don’t even have an inkling of what to pray for?

As I struggled with such questions, the image of Sheba sitting in the drive staring intensely at me as I worked burst back into my mind.

I realized that I can no more understand the actions of God than Sheba could understand why I was changing the windshield wiper blades!

And I thought that maybe our Father may just enjoy our company ,attention and good will – even when He has no need of our advice.

E-mail is up and running again

Great news:

Webmaster Donald, using great skill and precision, has repaired the carburetor or the spleen or whatever it is he does, to restore e-mail to my website.

My main e-mail address is: john@cowart.info .

Last month although over 9,000 readers stayed on the site over ten minutes each, but not one single e-mail came through. I was beginning to think that nobody loves me anymore. But it was just that the old program was broken.

Thank you Donald, I appreciate all the work you've put into this.

Off the hook?, a history talk, & outrage

The most important thing I did today was go to meet the store owner dying of pancreatic cancer, the man I mentioned in last Saturday’s blog posting.

Deliberately going back to meet him was very hard for me; I had to steel myself to do it. Christian witnessing does not come easy for me. I really lack boldness and I loath intruding on people with my personal religious beliefs.

It is much easier for me to write about Christianity than to actually live for Christ.

I think we can follow God’s will in two ways:

Passive , that is we respond to something God is already doing, we react to something or someone that God brings into our path. I think that’s what I did Saturday, just react to the man’s fear and pain. In this type of following Jesus, God initiates the situation and we respond.

Or not.

Active, that is when we initiate the action. We decide to do something for the love of God. This is the tough one for me. Today I was not responding to an existing situation. I’d deliberately made an appointment with this man specifically to talk with him about preparing his soul for Eternity.

Thank God, when I got to the meeting place, the guy was not there; he’d gone off to another meeting and would not be back for hours.

I felt so relieved.

Obviously God does not want me to talk with this dying man about Jesus rising from the dead and the guy’s soul salvation. I’m obviously not qualified to deal with such deep matters…

Or, damn it! Do I need to make another appointment and try again?

I hope not, but I think I know I know the answer to that one.

----.

The other thing I did today was give a speech on Jacksonville history to a group of 47 people at the Westbrook Library. It was a show-and-tell thing in that I took in Indian arrowheads, a pioneer ax, an ox shoe and Great-great-great Grandfather Barr’s shotgun which he bought new ten days after the 1901 Great Fire of Jacksonville. The folks were very gracious about listening to my talk.

Jacksonville City Councilman Reggie Fullwood gave the opening address talking about the importance of books in his own life, and especially about biographies have influenced his career.

The library made quite a todo over the affair. There were balloons decorating the place, face-painting for the kids, lavish cakes and cookies, door prizes -- they really went all out.

-----.

Ginny’s discouraged.

At her work, they just hired another new boss over her (I think this is the ninth one in the past two years) instead of promoting her. Yet the administration keeps wanting her to train the new people. I suspect that Ginny’s being deaf and over 50 blocks her chance at promotion. They keep giving her superior efficiency ratings, yet no promotion.

God knows about this too. But I'm outraged to see her neglected so..