Energy Crisis

Thanks to our country's current economic conditions, my energy had ebbed and my positive outlook had sailed with the outgoing tide. I knew I had to get off the couch, turn off the depressing TV news and get busy doing something...doing anything…anything to get my mind off all the doom and gloom that was being reported by the media. My concerns about a green earth and wasting resources were outweighed by concerns of not being able to afford the lavish lifestyle of hot showers and refrigerated air-conditioning that I currently enjoy. In my mind the exorbitant price of 10 cents per kilowatt hour seems like usury. So I visited the local plumping store and secured a length of black plastic pipe and a sack full of valves and fittings.

After laying out some 400 ft of black poly pipe on top of the old trampoline in the back yard and covering it with glass left over from a remodel…I plumbed it into the existing water line that served the master bath at the rear of the house. I picked up the plethora of tools and put away the other supplies that were gathered for the project…went inside…and took a hot shower. I was amazed by the steamy 130 degree water and had to add cold water to it...in order to make it comfortable. It was even more remarkable considering the outside temperature was only 68 degrees. Energized by my success and the fact that only $143 was spent for the entire system...turning off the power to the other water heaters seemed prudent.

I must confess that my wife was out of town…a factor making this entire experiment possible. After several days of hot showers it became evident that the thermo-siphon (hot water rising) effect I had hoped for was nonexistent. This was due to no difference in elevation between the solar heating coils of black pipe and the storage tank (a.k.a. the existing electric water heater). There was no transfer of heat to the storage tank and during the night it dissipated from the heating coils. This only made hot water available during daylight hours.

While I was OK with my camping mode existence…it would not be an acceptable situation once the wife returned. After searching the internet I found a small 12 volt, 6 watt hot water transfer pump…a perfect solution to my problem for only $30. Now all I needed was a photovoltaic solar panel to supply electrical power to the pump during the day. Just what the doctor ordered…Harbor Freight had a 45 watt panel on sale for only $199. Power to spare…I couldn’t help but run around the house checking the wattage of all the appliances, computers and assorted electrical stuff. After some math it became quite clear how nonchalant my attitude had become toward the use of electrical power. My taking for granted the availability of such a resource was a serious oversight. The 1800 watts I can get out of one single outlet in my house would take 40 panels costing $8000 to supply the same amount of power.

My enthusiasm now totally deflated, I plugged the TV into an AC/DC inverter, using the power from my new solar panel and sat down to watch the evenings news with my FREE electricity. Life is good...living off “The GRID”

Thank You, Lord Jesus, for my...oh...so many blessings.
Amen

The Purple Haze

I tried desperately to claw and climb my way out of the blue funk/information hangover that I had fallen into. It seems that the continuous and contemptuous ranting and railing of our “rule makers” left me feeling less than optimistic. Irregardless of the color…red or blue…no matter the species…pachyderm or equine…they all behaved like cats and dogs. I believe Samuel Clements said, “There are three kinds of lies…lies, damn lies, and statistics.” Well…I’ve never heard such conflicting statistics. I know figures don’t lie, but…liars figure. I am appalled by the fact that our “rule makers” seem to know what is best for the underlings…yet THEY will not have any part of it for themselves. They make rules for us… but the rules do not apply to them. I find that most discouraging…but, apparently…it’s nothing new for scribes, Pharisees and tax collectors. While I agree with much of what they say I don’t agree with what they are doing. It sounds as if nothing has changed in two thousand years.

In Matt 23:1-5 Jesus speaks to the multitudes and to His disciples saying, "The scribes and the Pharisees have taken their seat in the chair of Moses. Therefore, do and observe all things whatsoever they tell you, but do not follow their example. They preach but they do not practice. They tie up heavy burdens, hard to bear, and lay them on men's shoulders; but they will not lift a finger to move them. All their works they do to be seen by men."

For over two thousand years nothing has changed in the world of scribes, Pharisees and tax collectors. Nothing has changed in the world of the peasants, serfs and slaves. It is still the hand-to-mouth business of staying alive one day at a time. Nothing has changed in the world of rich men who go out to admire their stables of oxen, asses, and sheep.

So, why should I be surprised? I go out to my barn…I look at my Ram and the 245 horses under the hood and thank Cummings for the 505 ft-lbs of torque.

In this world I cannot let my circumstances change my faith in you, Lord Jesus. It is my faith that determines my fate.

Thank you, Lord Jesus, for nothing compares to the promise I have in You.
It is in Your world I find peace and hope.
Thank goodness God’s world is unchanging.
Amen

Worrying

Today worrying seems to be my strong suit. While I know it is totally unproductive I can’t seem to kick the habit. All the “what-ifs” and “how-comes”…trying to live in the future…that’s what I squander my time on. I could get off my duff and do something positive…now. I worry about our country’s economy…which has affected my personal economy substantially. I worry about our country’s leadership. Even more so, I worry about a nation of stiff-necked people who have elected our troublesome leaders. Apparently there is a majority who wants to change God’s rules or make new rules that somehow supersede God’s rules. It is one thing to break the rules but totally different to change the rules and pretend that it is all OK. This is the road to ruination, tantamount to lying to yourself. God’s rules cannot be superseded or changed. You simply can’t change the rules to suit yourself. God’s rules are unchangeable. Just like the rule that makes water run down hill…always did and always will…no matter how bad you want it to go up hill…it ain’t happ’n.

Just as I began worrying about how I was going to earn my keep for today, I got a phone call from a customer wanting a frayed rope on his flag pole replaced. So I rescheduled my worrying and squeezed in a service call.

After rounding up tools and material, studying the situation and formulating a plan… I completed the job. As I unfurled the Stars and Stripes and hoisted the flag up by its new rope…a touch of pride came over me. I couldn’t help but think how blessed I was to be born into such a well-to-do, prosperous place and to have a God who cares for my every need.

Dear Lord Jesus, please give me the wisdom to NOT worry but to put my faith in You…for You have met my every need…many times...before I have had the sense to even ask. Please help me trust in your word, follow your example and live in the present.
Amen

Invent’n Winton

Remember these ram air window coolers?

For me it was 3rd grade, Wink, TX. (circa 1953) My father, for whatever reason, did not buy one. He came up with his own design…sort of a “Tim (the tool man) Taylor” idea…bigger, better and badder than anything Sears and Roebuck sold. His design was a ram-air plenum that extended over the top and spanned the entire width of the car. It stood nearly 12 inches high and the inlet, the entire front side, was opened and fitted with a porous pad.

Built from galvanized sheet metal the long box, with a “u-turn” shape at one end, brought the ram air from the outside of the car down and around into the passenger side front window.

At highway speed the oncoming hot dry air would be forced into the box though the inlet passing over a wet mat…which cooled the air by the evaporation process…then into the car.

It was held on the top of the car with four pairs of suction cups and straps with hooks...borrowed from his car-top luggage rack. Everybody had a car-top carrier back then and every car had rain gutters (drip rails) to hook onto.

The water reservoir, for wetting the pad, was a 5 gal can located in the trunk and somehow through an elaborate system of piping, plumbing and pumps it got to the box on the roof.

Evaporative type coolers work well in dry climates. The larger the spread between the wet bulb (dew point) and dry bulb temperatures the better they worked. And it worked great in the dry West Texas town of Wink.

There were a few drawbacks. First, it only worked at highway speeds because the air supply stopped when you stopped. This made sitting at red lights problematic. Second, in my father’s massive design, it allowed water to collect in the large roof top plenum. During a left turn the same forces that opened doors...flinging the unsuspecting out into the street...acted upon the lake of water producing a tsunami that would surprise and almost drown the front seat passenger.

That very summer my father was transferred to Southern California where we enjoyed the constant 72 degree temperature…and that’s the last I remember of that experiment.

Apparently my "Invent'n Winton" interests for tinkering, building and inventing were inherited.

Thanks, Dad, for the memories.

Birthday Cake

Today, 3/2/2010, marks the completion of the 65th year of my existence on this planet…admittedly…it seems a bit anticlimactic after returning from my mother-in-law's 103rd birthday celebration. The two days of driving was worth the three days of partying. Seeing all the in-laws and listening to their stories of being raised in a large family living in rural West Texas was interesting and entertaining.

It is amazing how those seemingly tragic events magnified by the intensity of childhood become fodder for the most hilarious anecdotes. These historical and hysterical yarns, like fine wine, become better with age. In my wife’s family there seems to be a genetic trait for such narratives.

My sides still ache from three days of non-stop laughing.

So, today, I suppose I can officially retire from my do nothing job and enjoy the benefits, rewards and pleasures of doing nothing. My birthday wish is to be taken out to eat at some lavish restaurant. I just hope Burger King still has their double meat double cheese on the value menu.

How blessed I am to have my cake and eat it too.
Amen

A Lubbock Morning

Everyone was still sleeping as I sat in my mother-in-law's kitchen looking out into the dawn's twilight. It was a clear cold Lubbock morning and no one stirred as I ate part of a leftover roasted chicken Panini with stale edges, some oatmeal cookies and a diet coke. It was the perfect breakfast to start a perfect morning. That magical hour is the best time to just sit and think....to think of how wonderful, amazing and beautiful the world is and how blessed I am to be somehow plopped down right in the big middle of it all. Right in the middle of my mother-in-law "Big Red's" family, married to one of her one hundred descendants. Literally, the last count brought the number to 100. And today, right in the middle of her 103rd birthday, in the middle of her kitchen.
As the rays of sunshine penetrated the window and warmed my face I could hear relatives beginning to stir in preparation for the big party. Thank you, Lord Jesus, for all my undeserved blessings. Amen

Fish Story

I take courage in the fact that God told Jonah to go to Nineveh not once but twice.

Today I made a special effort to pay close attention to the readings (Jonah 3:1-10 and Luke 11:29-32) but found myself thinking about my past, thinking that Jonah…as I…was not really excited about doing what God told him to do. But God did not give up on him; God went to extreme measures to show him the light. Just like Jonah …I was swallowed up…not by a fish but by the ways of the world. Only out of misery did I cry out to God. From the pit of despair I called to the Lord to save me from drowning is a sea of secularism and relativism.

Then I thought about the citizens of Nineveh and how they all listened to Jonah’s warning…how even the king listened and complied with the warning…they repented and turned away from their evil ways. Then I thought of our people, our congress, and our king and thought how nice they would look in sack-cloth and ashes.

Dear Lord Jesus,
Help me, in this season of repentance,
to truly comply with your wishes.
Give me the wisdom to do what I’m told.
So you don’t have to tell me twice.
Amen

Latin Scholars

Today’s readings were 1 Peter 5:1-4 and Matthew’s Gospel 16:13-19 which talked about the chair of Peter, the first shepherd of the church. “Ubi Petrus, ibi ecclesia”, Father started his homily. He explained that the old Latin saying translated to “Wherever Peter is, there is the church”.

That was the last thing I heard. Kidnapped by my own daydreams and transported back to the past, back to high school in LA, back to Latin class, back to the summer I spent working in the Big Bear Mountains with George Oller. George was the older brother of my older sister’s best friend, on leave from the seminary. He, several years my senior, invited me to spend the summer working odd jobs at Big Bear Lake where his older brother had a cabin. A real cabin, a cabin you had to hike the switchbacks to get to, a cabin without running water, electricity or an inside toilet. We spent the summer scraping paint, raking pine needles and making miscellaneous repairs for the locals. When we were not working we hiked and swam, explored old abandoned gold mines and generally investigated the mountains in his old ‘38 Ford pickup. Breakfast was usually biscuits…biscuits with a surprise ingredient…such as the leftovers from the previous evening’s supper. Peas and corn…were not unusual. I’m not sure if it was the work, the play, or the high mountain air that did away with any thoughts of a squeamish appetite…perhaps all the above…but “not eating” never crossed my mind.

George was one of a kind. Always a smile, always up beat, always ready to lend a hand. His crazy stories and silly one liner jokes went non-stop…he would say things like “If your nose runs and your feet smell then you are built upside down”. Without a doubt he was the goofiest, kindest, most compassionate, up front guy I’ve ever known. Subconsciously I learn a lot. He planted seeds that I would only come to fully appreciate much later.

After three years of high school Latin and many years later…the only Latin that I can remember is what George taught me “Ubi O’ ubi es meum sub-ubi” (where O’ where are my underwhere).

Dear Lord Jesus,
George is camped out with you now.
I am sure he is keeping you entertained.
I can’t wait to see you both,
around the ‘ole campfire.
Me

Amen

Daydreams and Delusions

I daydream of being a writer. The truth be known, I am no more than an anal retentive, obsessive compulsive scribbler of notes desperately trying to document my journey through the labyrinth of empty halls that make up the gray matter in my head.

Sometimes I wonder if it is wise to be recording and documenting each and every thought especially when I consider the possibility of this information falling into the hands of the prosecutor come judgment day. But on the other side of the coin…hopefully the converse is true. If I were to be put on trial and accused of being a Christian it might be used as evidence to convict me.

As for being a writer it is just a delusion…wishful thinking. It would appear pointless to call any of my English teachers to the witness stand...as they have already cast their vote by penning a plethora of D’s and F’s on my each and every report card.

Perhaps I scribble and scrabble in some futile effort to prove them wrong. For whatever the reason, I seem to have become…late in life…intrigued by the process and uninhibited by my grammatical shortcomings.

So thank you, Lord Jesus, for whatever gifts it is that you have given me.
Please help me to share these gifts and use them for Your glory.
Amen

The Morning Meeting

Each day we meet at the orange and white striped roof to plan our day and I make notes of any good ideas that could be parlayed into a workable business plan. I turn over a placemat to record any stroke of brilliance we might concoct. Today, I even brought a pen. After some discussion we eliminated the seemingly interesting and lucrative businesses we felt were not acceptable; i.e. liquor stores, bars, and houses of ill repute. They all seemed to have an element of danger...both physical and moral...that we were not prepared to embrace.

Our criterion is that it has to be interesting, it has to be legal, it has to be moral, and it can’t be too much work. Maybe that last item is what always makes the train jump the track.

Each day at the close of our meeting I throw away the blank sheet of paper along with the empty paper cups and soiled paper napkins. We always conclude that God is in charge. He has written his plan on our hearts. We just need to follow his plan.

Lord, help me Jesus,

When on judgment day
What do I say?
For nothing I‘ve done
Deserves even one*

*Of the kindness You’ve shown