Tag: president joe biden

  • my church

    my church


    I’ve cussed on a Sunday
    I’ve cheated and I’ve lied
    I’ve fallen down from grace
    A few too many times
    But I find holy redemption
    When I put this car in drive
    Roll the windows down and turn up the dial

    Can I get a hallelujah

    Can I get an amen


    Feels like the Holy Ghost running through ya
    When I play the highway FM
    I find my soul revival
    Singing every single verse
    Yeah I guess that’s my church

    When Hank brings the sermon
    And Cash leads the choir
    It gets my cold cold heart burning
    Hotter than a ring of fire
    When this wonderful world gets heavy
    And I need to find my escape
    I just keep the wheels rolling, radio scrolling
    ‘Til my sins wash away

    Can I get a hallelujah
    Can I get an amen
    Feels like the Holy Ghost running through ya
    When I play the highway FM
    I find my soul revival
    Singing every single verse
    Yeah I guess that’s my church

    Songwriter/singer Maren Morris and I belong to the same church – except she and co-songwriter Michael James Ryan Busbee found their church riding in a car while I found mine driving along the back roads of Montgomery and Grimes Counties in the cab of an old 2004 Dodge Dakota pickup truck when I came home a second time to Texas from my home base with Pretty in South Carolina for four years in 2010 – 2014 to care for my mother who struggled with dementia. Can I get a hallelujah? Can I get an amen?

    Growing up in rural Richards, Texas in the early 1950s the First Baptist Church was my family’s experience with God the Father providing salvation of souls from sin, redemption through the blood of Jesus Christ the Son, ongoing forgiveness through the presence of God the Holy Ghost. However, each family member didn’t experience the Holy Trinity in exactly the same way which added to my confusion as I listened to the sermons of preachers who were absolutely 100% convinced they were giving their congregation a lifeline to escape the burning fires of hell following death. My daddy and mama believed that message as long as they lived. Can I get a hallelujah? Can I get an amen?

    On the other hand, my paternal grandmother Ma roasted the preacher every Sunday dinner after church like Trevor Noah roasted President Joe Biden at the 2022 White House Correspondents’ Dinner last night. She was quick to criticize biblical interpretations she found hypocritical, particularly when the preacher talked about sins of the flesh but paid too much attention in her opinion to a certain attractive woman he often visited when her husband was away at work. Can I get a hallelujah? Can I get an amen?

    My mother was thrilled when I enrolled in a Southern Baptist seminary to do post graduate work in church music and theology in the early 1970s. She told me she gave me to God on the day I was born in 1946. God would do miracles through me, she added. Can I get a hallelujah? Can I get, well maybe, let’s leave it at hallelujah because she was appropriately horrified when I left her church and its homophobia too many years later. Now can I get an amen?

    I’ve cussed on a Sunday and every other day of the week. I’ve cheated and I’ve lied in more than one relationship in my younger and middle age years – I know I’ve been undeserving of grace a few too many times. But I found holy redemption in those Texas years when I put the truck in drive, rolled the windows down, and turned up the radio dial. When I played the country music legends station I found my soul revival as I sang every verse. Yeah, I guess that was my church. Can I get a hallelujah? Can I get an amen?

    Tonight the Country Music Hall of Fame will have two new names added in their awards ceremony, Naomi and Wynonna Judd, better known as simply The Judds. Unexpectedly mother Naomi died yesterday from “mental illness” according to a family statement. For those of us who are fans of The Judds and their music the loss is a painful one. I saw them perform here in Columbia in the 1990s – I can’t remember the year, but I do remember being so taken with them that a friend and I drove to Charlotte, North Carolina for that same concert the next night. The Judds are members of my church.

    Can I get a hallelujah? Can I get an amen?

  • taken from this week’s headlines or last year’s or the years before

    taken from this week’s headlines or last year’s or the years before


    The nation’s attention is focused this week on the continuing trial of the man who murdered George Floyd last summer in Minneapolis, Minnesota. The impact of Mr. Floyd’s death lives on in the memories of the bystanders, police and most importantly his family who lost someone they can never replace. The trial touches the nerves of people far beyond the courtroom, however, even around the world as the death brought a spotlight on systemic racism and lawlessness of the people we expect to be the most law abiding. We have a broken criminal justice system which this trial exposes in living color that could be filmed in black and white.

    And yet, the week’s headlines were diverted to other, more familiar tragedies:

    1 Dead, 5 Hurt in Bryan Mass Shooting; Trooper in Critical Condition; Victim Identified

    Mass shooting comes on the same day President Biden calls gun violence an epidemic and Gov. Abbott vows to protect gun rights in Texas.

    (Associated Press, April 08, 2021)

    ******

    Lone survivor of SC mass shooting has now died, coroner says, bringing death toll to 6

    (The Charlotte Observer, April 10, 2021)

    ********

    On March 13, 1993 Texas newspaper columnist Molly Ivins (1944-2007) published this piece called Taking a Stab at our Infatuation with Guns.  I have reprinted it several times during the past nine years because I think it’s as timely today as it was 28 years ago.

    Guns. Everywhere guns. Let me start this discussion by pointing out that I am not anti-gun. I’m pro-knife. Consider the merits of the knife.

    In the first place, you have to catch up with someone in order to stab him. A general substitution of knives for guns would promote physical fitness. We’d turn into a whole nation of great runners. Plus, knives don’t ricochet. And people are seldom killed while cleaning their knives.

    As a civil libertarian, I of course support the Second Amendment. And I believe it means exactly what it says: “A well-regulated militia being necessary to the security of a free state, the right of the people to keep and bear arms shall not be infringed.” Fourteen-year-old boys are not part of a well-regulated militia. Members of wacky religious cults are not part of a well-regulated militia. Permitting unregulated citizens to have guns is destroying the security of this free state.

    I am intrigued by the arguments of those who claim to follow the judicial doctrine of original intent. How do they know it was the dearest wish of Thomas Jefferson’s heart that teen-age drug dealers should cruise the cities of this nation perforating their fellow citizens with assault rifles? Channelling?

    There is more hooey spread about the Second Amendment. It says quite clearly that guns are for those who form part of a well-regulated militia, i.e., the armed forces including the National Guard. The reasons for keeping them away from everyone else get clearer by the day.

    The comparison most often used is that of the automobile, another lethal object that is regularly used to wreak great carnage. Obviously, this society is full of people who haven’t got enough common sense to use an automobile properly. But we haven’t outlawed cars yet.

    We do, however, license them and their owners, restrict their use to presumably sane and sober adults and keep track of who sells them to whom. At a minimum, we should do the same with guns.

    In truth, there is no rational argument for guns in this society. This is no longer a frontier nation in which people hunt their own food. It is a crowded, overwhelmingly urban country in which letting people have access to guns is a continuing disaster. Those who want guns – whether for target shooting, hunting or potting rattlesnakes (get a hoe) – should be subject to the same restrictions placed on gun owners in England – a nation in which liberty has survived nicely without an armed populace.

    The argument that “guns don’t kill people” is patent nonsense. Anyone who has ever worked in a cop shop knows how many family arguments end in murder because there was a gun in the house. Did the gun kill someone? No. But if there had been no gun, no one would have died. At least not without a good foot race first. Guns do kill. Unlike cars, that is all they do.

    Michael Crichton makes an interesting argument about technology in his thriller “Jurassic Park.” He points out that power without discipline is making this society into a wreckage. By the time someone who studies the martial arts becomes a master – literally able to kill with bare hands – that person has also undergone years of training and discipline. But any fool can pick up a gun and kill with it.

    “A well-regulated militia” surely implies both long training and long discipline. That is the least, the very least, that should be required of those who are permitted to have guns, because a gun is literally the power to kill. For years, I used to enjoy taunting my gun-nut friends about their psycho-sexual hang-ups – always in a spirit of good cheer, you understand. But letting the noisy minority in the National Rifle Association force us to allow this carnage to continue is just plain insane.

    I do think gun nuts have a power hang-up. I don’t know what is missing in their psyches that they need to feel they have to have the power to kill. But no sane society would allow this to continue.

    Ban the damn things. Ban them all.

    You want protection? Get a dog.

    *********

    Stay safe, stay sane, get vaccinated and please stay tuned.

  • images of change – pandemic style

    images of change – pandemic style


    Gamecock women’s basketball – March, 2020

    Guard LeLe Grissett, Gamecock Garner, me and Pretty

    Pretty and me at SEC tournament – March, 2021

    Our spirits were high as we drove away from the SEC women’s basketball tournament in Greenville, South Carolina on March 08, 2020. Pretty and I were riding with our gay boys basketball buddies Garner and JD, our Gamecock women’s basketball team had just won the tournament championship for five out of the last six years, everyone in our car (and many other fans in the Gamecock nation) looking forward to post season play, and let’s be real, talking about a possible second national championship. Our team finished the season ranked #1 in the polls, but that ranking would surely be tested in post season play.

    Until it wasn’t. Three days later on March 11th the World Health Organization declared the coronavirus a/k/a Covid-19 to be a pandemic. The next day the NCAA cancelled the men’s and women’s basketball post season tournaments. March Madness, the term reserved for the race to basketball championships, took on new meaning. In 2020 the Madness went, literally, viral.

    Although our Gamecock women managed to play their regular  season in the fall of 2020 with cardboard fans sitting in the student section, no band played on; cheerleaders who were socially distanced – waving garnet and white pompoms – tried to lift the morale of the 3,500 masked lucky fans allowed to occupy designated seats in the 18,000 capacity Colonial Life Arena. Pretty went to two home games during the season, but I didn’t want to risk the exposure to the virus so I watched the televised games or listened to the radio coverage when TV wasn’t available. Thank goodness for my trusted transistor radio which never misses a game. (Pretty encourages me to ask Alexa to play the game on the radio for me, but I tell her Alexa hasn’t been there for me as long as my real radio has.)

    One year and two Pfizer vaccinations later for me, Pretty and I went back to Greenville on March 06th. for the 2021 SEC tournament. We wanted to watch our Gamecock women play Tennessee in the semi-final, a revenge game for the loss they handed us during the regular season – a loss that ended our 31-game win streak for regular season play in the SEC. We were fired up and ready to go.

    I could hardly escape the irony of my first safely vaccinated outing as we drove home from Greenville last Saturday night. The Gamecocks did win against Tennessee that night (and won the tournament again the following day) – Pretty and I were almost as euphoric as we had been during the drive home in 2020. Yet, changes were everywhere. We were without our basketball buddies, we had to wear masks to be admitted to the game, very few fans scattered in our section for social distancing, still no live school bands, the arena resembled a community teetering on the brink of becoming a ghost town with unrecognizable citizens.

    Despite the tragedies that defined 2020, despite the deeply felt losses of family and friends to Covid, despite the changes that challenged our way of life – I feel hope again. I am so proud of the Democrats in Congress and President Biden who delivered on a campaign promise for an American Rescue Act that will begin to restore security for citizens who are struggling with basic needs for their loved ones. Food, housing, jobs, small businesses, farmers – a chance to breathe again. A chance for opportunity to do better.

    My tiny version of hope also took place at a women’s basketball tournament last weekend where I was still able to sit with my wife and enjoy a few hours that reminded me of a time not very long ago and certainly not far away. It felt good to do something ordinary, even if the ordinary was not quite the same.

    This week has been a blockbuster. Pretty got her first Moderna vaccination. Our 17 months old granddaughter Ella was with us on our screen porch during a perfectly gorgeous early spring day and we added Amy Winehouse songs to her playlist. Life is good.

    Stay safe, stay sane and please stay tuned.