A Town Has Two Problems...

   We were visiting our son and family in Charlotte the other day, and on a rainy morning, not having anything on our agenda, we did what any other person with time on their hands, in that position, would do.

   We decided to visit some old courthouses.

   We picked out two towns that were in close proximity to our base. After all two old buildings are plenty enough fun for one day. Should not overdo on excitement at my age.

   First to Statesville. Had a courthouse address for OnStar and arrived at a modern building off the main street. It was the "new" courthouse, and, not to waste an opportunity for enlightenment, we went in to find out two things.

   1. Where were the rest rooms?

   2. Where was the old courthouse?

   "Down the hall to your right. You can't miss them."

   OK, we are good on that, now how would we find the old courthouse?

   "Two red lights south, turn left on Center Street, up the hill and it will be on your left", the deputy at the medal detector told us.

   Following her directions to the letter, we went up into the center of town. But we did not see it. We turned around and looked again as we eased past the storefronts of the town. No luck this time either, so we turned around again, and I parked the car in a spot outside a coffee shop.

   Mayre wanted coffee anyway, and I could ask for new directions.

   "Coffee will be ready in just a minute and if you look out the front window, you will see the courthouse right across the street."

   Sure enough it was, and it was.

   I delivered the coffee back to the car and crossed the street to take some close ups.

   That done, I reentered the coffee shop, the owner was still the only one around, and asked her if I could take a few shots through her front window.

   While in the shop, she began telling me of a problem that the town fathers had because of some graffiti on a wall a couple of blocks down. She said they did not know what to do with it. It was against the law, but had become a tourist attraction, and people came from all around just to look at it.

   "Maybe you could check it out as you leave town", she said.

   Following her directions, we found Prince on the whitewashed brick wall of an old building.

   Someone had done this one night, no one knew who the artist was, and while we sat in the parking lot, at least 5 other cars pulled in to take pictures.

   The town's dilemma, paint the "work" out or capitalize on the unknown artist's skill.

   I would place my bet that it will be there a long time.

   And, if they could locate the artist, he, or she, might have a full time job with murals. Whoever it was, was good.

   Who would have thought that an unknown artist could revitalize a downtown?

   The cash register in the coffee shop was happy.

   And if the trees in front of the courthouse could be trimmed back some, this town could have two great attractions.

   Two problems solved and money in the bank.

   Woo Woo


 

Behold the Shirt...

   In the mailbox yesterday was a package.

   The object inside could have been due to the fact that I will be having one of those birthdays that end in zero later this week. One of the "big ones".

   There was this shirt:

   There was also no note in the package, not one thing to identify the sender.

   I liked the sentiment expressed, but I'm not too sure about the answers anyone might give as to who this man really was.

   What was this man like?

   What did he believe?

   What will be remembered, if anything?

   Who did he serve?

   Why did he serve?

   Who did he help?

   What was his role?

   Kinda makes a body want to finish in style so that the answers to his life might have some meaning.

   There was a verse in a devotional this morning: Psalm 139:1, which states

O Lord, you have searched me and known me!

   God knows and cares.

   What will others see and know?

   A Sobering Thought...

Interconnectedness

   My first thought when I wrote this word down was "is it a real word?", but there it was in the dictionary.

noun

1.

the quality or condition of being interconnected;

   Why did it come to mind?

   In the mailbox the other day was a magazine.

   But I need to digress for just a moment..

   Back in the early '90s, I spent some time in a Master's Program in Education at Covenant College located in Lookout Mountain, TN. Even though I was an "older" Student in the program, I count that time and that experience as one of the best in my life, and I look forward to keeping up with the school through its publications. The View is one of those.

   In my early morning time, I wanted to read the lead article, so I laid the magazine on my couch and looked forward to having quiet time to read and reflect on the author's message. Not because I was suffering, but just because I wanted to think about the topic.

   As I thumbed through the first few pages, moving toward the article, I noticed a short blurb referencing an address by Michael Gerson, given at the school. I recognized the name from a syndicated column that appears on occasion in our local paper. I read it from time to time and wondered what he was doing speaking at this Christian College.

   Gerson is a writer for the Washington Post, and a good one in my opinion, so I mused about his connection to the college.

   I also looked up his bio on Google, and, while browsing that, noticed a reference to Ron Fournier another name I knew. This man is also a writer, and I had seen him as a regular panelist on a news program. His comments on that panel seemed insightful,  and I began to read more about him.

   My  search led to a book Fournier had written back in 2010 about his son who was diagnosed with Aspergers autism when he was 12. The book was interesting to me, as we also have an autistic grandson over in Arkansas, and I got it for my Kindle.

   I immediately shot off a quick email to my son in law, and he replied that he had not read the book, but did read Fournier's column in The Atlantic, liked his style and the stories about his son.

   The book is: Love That Boy, What Two Presidents, Eight Road Trips and My Son Taught Me About Parental Expectations. A mouthful, but I'm enjoying the story.

   I was also curious to check out The Atlantic, a magazine I knew about but did not read, scanning a couple of articles there.

   From The View, to Michael Gerson, to Ron Fournier, to a book on autism, to an email from a son in law, to buying a book, to enjoying its story, to The Atlantic and some articles there on American politics, back to Gerson and his book on Religion and Politics in a New Era.

   A rabbit trail of reading, or an example of interconnectedness and a new word to use?

   Interesting, anyway...

 

Union Street 1000 Block

   We were just driving the other day and went down into the Old Town part of Brunswick. Now, this part of town has been there awhile, and, like a lot of older areas, is an eclectic blend of styles and various shades of getting run down and being fixed up.

   But I had to stop the car and walk a bit in the 1000 block of Union.

   This looked to be an area that had had a rebirth over the past several years. I don't know any of the history, except for one gentleman that I chatted with for a few minutes, but it was obvious that some new money had been infused.

   This was down the east side of the street, looking north.

   Some of the individual houses on that east side, some with nice gardens on small lots.

   The southeast corner house, number 1000.

   Across the street from 1000, was number 1001. Its story I got from the owner. He had bought the older home, built in the 1890s I think, and was restoring it when it caught fire and burned down to the foundation. He began again and restored the only Cape Cod home on the street. He and his wife live there still.

   One of the more impressive houses on this block, at least when it was newer and kept up, was this one. Unfortunately, it was in great need of repair and restoration now, but it could be fabulous if brought back to its former grandeur. Could cost a bit to do, too.

   But this was a walking neighborhood, front porches that faced the street, and I could almost hear snippets of older conversations from the people in the rocking chairs and those walking by.

   Those were the days...

A Mother's Adventure..

   One Fall Day, back in '87, one Mother had an adventure.

   We were over in Batesville, Arkansas, visiting some friends, when we were invited to take a little trip. Not just your run-of-the-mill trip, but one that was very quiet and somewhat up off the ground.

   Now, being up in the air was nothing new for this adventuring lady. No, she was used to being above the ground, but this was different.

   She was not in control of the balloon.

   A beautiful morning in the area of the White River.

   A beautiful lady in her element.

   A perfectly executed splash and dash onto a sandbar in the middle of said river.

   Then the real adventure…the novice pilot (in the sunglasses), being very proud of his first splash/dash with his hot air balloon, spent so much time getting the event recorded for posterity on film that all the hot air escaped, and the balloon envelope collapsed.

   The rest of the morning was spent on a hot sand bar, in the middle of a river, waiting for the launch crew to arrive by boat with a fan to inflate the envelope again, letting the balloon and pilot escape to the mainland while the passengers went back by boat.

   Our first, and last, balloon adventure. From that time on we stuck to flying machines that could be controlled by the blond lady in the yellow sweater.

   And we stayed cooler, too.

   Happy Mother's Day to my favorite pilot.

Mother's Day, 2016

   My mother liked to take pictures, and maybe I inherited some of my likes from her. Anyway, when my folks passed away, back in the 90s, I got a lot of her old slides.

   Some of these I scanned on CDs and stuck away in a box.

   The other day, I found that box and began looking through some.

   Of course, there are people on these slides that I do not know. There are small kids that are me and my brothers, and they do bear a resemblance to us today.

   But, it is fun to sit back and remember…

   People that have influenced me, have nurtured me, have guided me, and, although it did not all "take", I would be far less today, if they had not been in my gene pool.

   My Mom was a great lady.

   I miss her even today.

   Love You, Nana

I Just Don't Know...

   I just don't Know..

   I see the parade of candidates on the screen, those still left in the race for President, at this point anyway..

   Hillary Clinton, Bernie Sanders, Donald Trump

   And I wonder..

   What would the founders of this country say about the choices?

   Could there not be anyone else, Anyone?

   I keep waiting for the curtain to be pulled back to reveal Someone Else, Anyone..

   But what if the November election ballot has two of these three written on it, names for me to put an X beside to indicate my preference?

   What do I do?

   I do not want to just say "that it will all work out" and go blithely on. I want to know the path that God wants believers to walk out in the political landscape. I want to walk confidently, not with shoulders shrugged in a "whatever" attitude.

   I know that God is truly in control, and that statement is both scary and comforting. Comforting in that He is working His Will for our Ultimate Good, but scary in that the blessings that have been ours may not last for our kids and grandkids.

   What do I do when I just don't know?

   I pray "Thy Will Be Done", while desperately seeking my active role in that Will.

   And It Will Work Out