Pay Here

Pay Here, said the simple hand-lettered sign at the entrance to the tent-covered petting zoo.

Alas, I wish life was like that. 'Pay here, pay this much for this experience'. But it's quite the opposite.

In the exhibition called life, you see the picture of a little girl on the back of the giraffe and you wander inside to see it. Turns out there's no giraffe, and if there was you couldn't ride it. The pygmy goats are there, and the ducks. A garter snake but not the ananconda. It is a petting zoo, but you can't touch the sheep. Just the puppies, which are on sale today for only seven hundred and ninety five dollars.

But it is kinda fun and you're smiling and you wander out to the exit only to be stopped by a smiling, but resolute gentleman.

"That will be $49 for your tour of the petting zoo, please."

"Forty nine dollars?" you protest. "I would never have gone in if I knew it was $49 and there was no giraffe."

That's life. It doesn't tell you ahead of time what an experience will cost.
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Soul Rhythm

It's not just the music; it's what the music did to the people listening that sticks in my mind.

Rock the Block was a Friday night party in downtown Winston-Salem. Playing on the blues stage was The Ladies Auxiliary, two white chicks and two black dudes rockin' the park. Not the headliners, but they could belt the blues.

But the crowd...the crowd was the show. The rains had just passed, mud prevailed in small grassy space directly at stage front. The sidewalk in front of our seats was mostly underwater, so the first row of seats became the ad hoc walkway. The teens danced in the muddy grass, the grown-ups stayed on the sidewalks.

One couple in particular was entertaining. The wiry, sharp-dressed gentleman, from crisp white shirt to polished shoes, was smooth as butter. Not big and flashy moves, but small, elegant. And the lady, though not so small, showed a love of the rhythm in her smiling eyes, the swing of her hips and the grand gestures of her bejeweled hands. We were enjoying the show...until...

...until the wiry gentleman beckoned insistently to a friend of ours, who promptly joined him on the rain drenched sidewalk. And then the big lady with big rhythm beckoned me and didn't seem to care if I could dance or not; she only cared that I had a smile on my face and rhythm in my soul.

Luvly joined me shortly and we rediscovered what everyone who taps their toes to the music instinctively knows; Listening to music is a pleasure; experiencing the music with your body gets it down in your soul.
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Milkshake Chaser

Straight? With a spoonful of sugar? Or with a chocolate milkshake chaser?
Sometimes it's not just knowing what to say, it's knowing how to serve it up.

Ok, all the married ladies are going, "no duh." They know a simple "Yes, we are having leftovers again" might work fine. A big hug and kiss may be good before explaining the $50 designer jacket for Phydeaux the mini wonder dog. But the big nasty scratch on the side of his beloved ski boat will take a better story to put it in perspective. Preferably something involving a noble deed like, "I was rushing to the Mothers of Charity grocery store for more Doritos and Mountain Dew before the game tonight."

Guys on the other hand tend to use the same approach to "Honey, I'll be ten minutes late for supper" as they do for "Oops, the lawnmower ran over your Grandma's prize-winning wisteria."

A good salesman will tell you the same thing. If you're buying a doormat, the clerk can tell you, "ThatwillbetendollarspleasethankyouforshoppingatMallWart. But if you're spending thousands of dollars on a Persian rug, you want to hear the stories about the sheep that provided the wool, and the hunched over artisan who spent a big chunk of his life hand knotting one thread at a time.

In business communications sometimes we forget that. The visitor to my website probably doesn't want to hear about how my love for my pet Chihuahua when I was ten lead me to re-selling glittery $2 leashes from China for $10 online. She wants to know what colors are available, how much it costs and when FedEx will drop it off.

But if you have a disgruntled client who thinks paying you $3000 for six coaching sessions should have him dating the girl of his dreams, a more nuanced, personal approach is needed. Seems the more money is involved, the more it matters what you say and how you say it.

And the closer you get to the things a person really, really values, the more crucial it is to make every word count. The right word, at the right time, in the right manner can make or break a friendship, a sale, or a business relationship.
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Blank Slate

"What is it that you write?" Cynic eyed The Lad at his slate.

"Perhaps I am not writing. Perhaps I am drawing." The Lad's chalk cut an extravagant flourish through the morning mist.

With a patient sigh, "So. What is it that you draw?"

"I did not say I'm drawing. I said perhaps." The Lad studied the road curving out of sight.

A derisive snort. "You seem not to know. Perhaps you merely waste a morning."

The Lad now looked in astonishment at the Cynic. "First I contemplate. Then I create. You deem that wasteful?"

Cynic lounged in his seat. "But you know not what you create."

"You asked amiss. I know what I create." The Lad placed his chalk in the center of his slate.

"So what do you create?"

"Today." The Lad's chalk moved deliberately across the slate. "Today I create today."
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[GOD] : ROFL

I picture God ROFL at our antics on some days. To One who sees what's around the next curve - what's coming tomorrow or next week or next year, our frantic paddling or pompous planning must look hilarious.

Like this: I meet my friend Joe every week, when we swap stories and he shares wisdom. Two weeks ago I talked to him about dissatisfaction with my career track leaving me unfulfilled and poorly rewarded. That means I didn't like my job and I wasn't making money. He gave me wise advice and sent me on my way.

The next week, I met Joe with a smile and a hug and the news that my career frustration was over. I now had a brand new opportunity. That meant I was laid off from my job and was allowed to look for something different. And Joe, he resisted the temptation to laugh aloud at the turn of events.

But God? I think he chuckled. Laughed. Rolled on the floor in mirthful glee. Because He knows whats around the next curve.

Unlabored Day

On this Unlabored Day, listening to the rain on the screen porch seems completely divine. And having just watched "Julie and Julia," drinking wine just seems like the natural thing to do.

This has the magic of stolen time, an unexpected gift of unscheduled hours when plans go awry. See, today was going to be a biking day, until a cloudy and rain-tinged morning greeted us. So the backup plan of brunch and a movie fell into place.

I suppose Julia Child could be annoying if you weren't in the right mood. But I found her relentless enthusiasm and reckless enjoyment of life and all it contained to be contagious. So we watched a movie about French cooking, after which we must stop for a glass of wine. But the little downtown cafe isn't open today, nor is the winery in the country. Well, the kitchen at home is still open. We'll go home and start the process on our new venture, a batch of home-made brandy.

Not so fast. The yeast we have is not the right kind. The brandy must wait till tomorrow night. Thus, I'm sitting on the back porch listening to the rain and sipping the best wine I've had in weeks, with Luvly's homemade rosemary sourdough bread. How absolutely divine.

Is it? Is it a stroke of the Divine, when our plans keep falling in on themselves, and we keep finding alternatives, better things to do with our time. Choices that lead us to a slower, more relaxed, quieter time than we had planned. Time to soak up the day, like an all-day drizzle. An Unlabored Day.

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unsaid

the wind it was from out the south
that took the words from out my head
and put their bite into my mouth
the wind it was that woke the dead

the dark was not to be unsealed
not ready for the light to show
in long hid places still concealed
the dark was not a thing to know

the words were thoughts and only that
not ready for the light of day
unformed unshapen and quite flat
the words were not the words you say

the echo came from off the ear
that heard the words were left unsaid
and spoke from out beneath the fear
the echo came and woke the dead

the echo heard the words unsaid
the wind it was that woke the dead

***

don't ask me what this means, tell me
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