Child, boy, man: Growth and Avoiding a Superficial Character

My family was your typical family full of it’s share of problems. We didn’t feel rich or poor we just struggled along like  normal people. We had many chances to be taught lessons but the biggest ones were manners and honesty. 

My folks refused to have kids grow up not having manners and respect. They worked very hard to instill in us the value of hard work and integrity. At a very early age we had chores and errands to do. With my mom, there was always work to do.

My father was a very hard worker and expected his children to be like him. He built our first house and our second. There was nothing superficial about my father and he was going to make me a man even if it killed me.

As a young man, it quickly become apparent that my parents were trying to mold me into a somewhat decent human being. They had many opportunities to teach me seeing that I was in trouble more often than not. Gentle persuasion at the end of a paddle or belt was typically the result of one of my choices gone wrong.

I chuckle about most of these stories now and at the time I didn’t see the lessons, only the punishment.

I remember a few lessons that required the loss of a summer as I worked to pay back my father for costing him money as he reimbursed others for wrongs I had committed. Broken windows and ruined paint jobs are two such lessons that turned out to be very costly to me.

Time passed quickly and the city around us grew faster than I did. My father hated the congestion and limited space. It wasn’t long before they decided a change was necessary.

We moved to the other side of the valley and started ourselves a small farm, my father decided it was time for me to be the “man” of the house and take care of us. It was up to me to see if we would be eating or not. 

He pushed me very hard to learn about chickens and the husbandry of cattle. He showed me how to create rows in a garden for the best way to allow water to flow so all the plants could be watered evenly.

I was up at the crack of dawn and sometimes would be watering fields with a flashlight in my hand. While most teenagers were spending a ton of time sleeping in and causing difficulties to their parents I was working. I was too busy and tired to go out with friends but I still found the time to get into trouble, 

On one such day, my father used my bad choice to teach me a valuable lesson.

Our neighbor behind us came over to talk to my dad. I was 14 and full of mischief but this man wanted to hire me to take care of his farm for two weeks while they went to visit family on the East coast. He said he’d be fair in my wage and said that he had total faith in my ability to do the job. My dad agreed and said I would come over everyday for the next two weeks to learn the system from this farmer until he left. The farmer felt that was a great idea.

So, every morning I jumped up and did my own chores and then headed over to this other farm and helped with his chores. To say I was tired was an understatement.

Soon the day came and the farmer drove off with his family, trusting this fourteen year old kid to watch over the way he fed his family. Things were going well after one week of working on the farm and I felt good that I had learned how to take care of this small ranch. The pigs stunk and were as grumpy as any I’d ever seen but they were well fed on my moms scraps that she said I could collect and the meal that the farmer provided for them. Their water was always dirty and on more than one occasion I got dumped on my butt by a darn pig pushing for a spot at the trough.

On that next Monday, I was done with the chores and I was walking around the house looking at the grass and flowers and I noticed a window open by the back of the house. I had never been inside this mans home and I’d known him for a few years. I started to get curious about just what they had in their home.

I used an old barrel to get myself up high enough to get my leg inside and the rest was easy. I slid in no problem and then I was free to look around. I figured I’d only be in the home for a minute or two. I walked slowly from room to room imagining how they lived. I never opened a single drawer nor did I touch anything. I noticed some very nice paintings on the wall and some great photos of family that must have been grandparents. I was walking towards the window to leave when I heard my dads voice calling my name. I froze.

He walked around the farm noticing that I had completed my chores. He noticed that I also was no where to be found. He approached the house and stood outside looking at the house. I saw the recognition in his eyes and noticed disappointment setting in. He then caught a glimpse of the window and the barrel left little to the imagination.

He stood there for about ten minutes as I sat frozen in the house. I knew he knew and I had no idea what to do or say. Suddenly, he called my name in a very demanding voice. He waited… I felt a fear and shame that I’d never felt before. He called me again and this time added, “Don’t make me come in there!” I pushed the window open and our eyes met.

“Don’t you dare crawl out that window!” He said very calmly. This tone in his voice confused me. I expected a line of cuss words intermingled with my name.

He had me close and lock the window and then he had me come out the door. I was to lock the door behind me and then we walked the half a mile back home. My father didn’t say one word to me. When we got home, my dad sent me to my room and I heard him relate to my mother the story. I closed my door and laid on my bed. I knew I was in trouble but I never really understood the lesson I was about to experience until I was much older.

My mother is the one who talked to me first. She said Dad was  to upset to speak. She talked about reputations and respect. She said I would need to tell the farmers family what I had done. She asked if I stole anything and when I told her I’d touched nothing she shook her head and asked  mywhat possessed me to go in that house. I had no answer.

My father was an expert at the silent game. He went with me every day to watch over me as I worked. Unless it was absolutely necessary, he wouldn’t say a word to me. Finally the week ended and the farmer came home. 

It wasn’t long after that they showed up at the house to settle my pay for the time.

Dad greeted him and then asked me if I had anything to confess or say. I then related what I had done and told the farmer how sorry I was. I said that since I’d broken his trust, I could not, in good faith, accept his money.

My dad and him went off by themselves. I couldn’t hear what was being said but I could see the farmer pleading with my father. They shook hands, the farmer shouted a thanks in my direction and they parted. Soon, the judge, jury and executioner was standing back in front of me.

“Well, I guess your explanation and the fact that you were completely uncomfortable has satisfied this man.” My father said as he looked sternly at me. “He says his hogs have never looked better. Farm was cleaner than when he left and He also said he hadn’t realized that the window had been left open. He was really surprised the cats hadn’t got in and was glad you found it open. He was grateful to you for shutting the window. His house was clean because the cats were kept out.”

He continued, “The farmer said you earned this money fare and Square and I feel that you have paid your price.” He paused and sat down motioning me to join him.

“The reason I became so frustrated with you is that you represent our family. When we work we are making a verbal agreement to the employer. We promise that we will give all we have to be the best we can be. If we do nothing more than all we can then we have become successful. I need you to always remember that when we die, we will only have one thing to show on our tombstone and that’s our names. Our name and reputations mean everything and are worth more than gold.”

That day my father taught me that our last name is what defines us. It’s not the cars we drive or the house we live in that makes us a man. It’s not what job we have, how many promotions we achieve or what our title is. All that maters is that we strive to be the best we can be. If we are superficial and fake then people will take notice and our reputations will be tainted. 

To be an honorable, hard working person and to not be fake or superficial was the best lesson I had as I journeyed from child to boy to man.

Thanks Dad.

via daily Prompt: Superficial


Reactions, Regrets, Reality Response and Respect

God is not in the event. He is in the response to the event

I may have told the story a time or two but in this situation I do believe that it’s worth repeating. When I was about 5 or 6 years old we had a neighbor who lived up the street from us his name was Eddie Pond. Mr. Pond was just an average neighbor who would come over and help around our house every once in a while with my dad or visit my mom. They were good friends. One day, as I was playing in the yard and our neighbor was getting ready to go home I turned to him and I said, “Bye Eddie spegheti!” 

The neighbor laughed it off and went on his way. My mother tried to correct my behavior but the neighbor insisted that it was fine and not o be too hard on the boy. Upon entering our home my mother proceeded to explain to me how inappropriate it was for me to say that. As the course of events were laid out I was then told, in no uncertain terms, that it was time for me to walk my bottom back up to his home, knock on the door and apologize for my actions.

I was scared to death. But walk is exactly what I did. Right up the street to his house. As I approached his door, I could feel my stomach binding up in knots. My knees started to shake and my Palms got all sweaty and it must have taken me a good 20 minutes to get up the courage to knock on the door. Finally, I knocked.

The neighbor opened up the door and smiled at me and asked me what I wanted. I shuffled and fiddled around with my feet and rocked back and forth until I finally looked up and with tears welling up in my eyes I apologize for the name I had called him. Of course this made his day and he gave me a huge hug. We became instant friends. 

This is one way that my father and mother taught me respect of human beings. No matter how different they looked or how strange their name was or who they were that was not the point. The way we should treat somebody is the way we would like to be treated. Respect goes both ways and in order for us to be respected we must first be a respectful kind of person.

I am truly grateful for my father and my mother teaching me about respect and the realities of life. I’m sure there’s more lessons that I could have learned in the short 18 years I had with my father but as a teenager I was quite stubborn and really didn’t want to listen to what that old man had to say. As I have matured I have looked back on those lessons and have come to find great wisdom and knowledge in the things that my father and mother taught me. I have been able to use that in response to situations that have happened in my life. God is not in the event but in the response.

Perhaps I can see it this way to help you understand a little bit more.

I lost my dad when I was 18 years old. He died of alcoholism. I was so frustrated at the situation that I wasn’t able to think clearly. I found myself angry with God, angry with my dad, angry with manufacturers of alcohol, angry with my boss for not understanding, and with my mom for not doing anything about it and a whole bunch of other people. And I was frustrated with myself because I was going down the same path. I wouldn’t recognize that was part of my anger until many years later. 

I was trying my best to cope and accept that he was gone. In the process of trying to find where I fit I ended up making a bad choice. After the services in the church house we drove about 45 minutes to the cemetery. I was having a hard time with this Funeral stuff and my friends were trying to help but on the drive to the cemetery I decided it would be a good time to get stoned. 

 Was I hurt and distraught yes but I do not feel that I should have done what I did because I lost sense of reality and I behaved in a manner that was highly inappropriate. I chose to blame God.

Remember, God is not in the event. He is in the response to the event…

I acted irrationally and like a disrespectful little brat who had absolutely no control of himself. Here I was now the man of the house and I was acting more like somebody who needed their diaper changed. I blamed everybody but myself and it wasn’t until about a month ago that I had one of my relatives point out to me just how bad I behaved and it was very hard to listen to that description of my inappropriate behavior. But I came to the realization that I needed to respond differently and now I have huge regrets of that day.

I really wonder about the people of today and if they really understand how good they have it. Even if you’re dirt poor and living paycheck-to-paycheck you still come in at night and can sit down in front of the television to entertain yourself. Most human beings on the American continent have the ability to pay for their cell phones and other things of luxury that most poor people in other countries would never even dream of having. But I digress.

Stephen R. Covey said, “Our behavior is a function of our decisions, not our conditions.” 

Just because you are poor does not mean you have to dress like you are poor. Just because you have circumstances that are beyond your control doesn’t mean you need to lose hope. One Day at a Time, One Foot In Front of the other, step by step you shall be successful if you just continue to believe that you will be successful. 

Success is not a lover of people. It cares not whether you are black, white, green or purple. It has no preference as to whether you are fat or thin, tall or short, female or male.

If you continue to speak negatively about your situation then all you will have is negative thoughts to entertain your ideas. But, if you strive to find positive emotions and Happy Times by counting the good things in your life, then and only then, will you be able to be successful.

Lastly, this thought: 

Leadership is a position not a rank. That is a very profound statement and a lot of people could do very well in learning more about this particular statement. 

When a father and mother work together as a team there is success in the home but if the father or the mother feel that one is superior than the other, then, there shall be no success in the home. 

When people feel protected, they tend to be more productive and cooperative. The same goes for your spouse and for your children. 

Shout out to Simon Sinek (@simonsinek ) on Twitter…Author and motivational speaker who said,

“We call them leaders because they go first. We call them leaders because they take the risks before anyone else does. We call them leaders because they are willing to make the sacrifices so their people may be safe and their people may gain. And When leaders do this the natural response is that the people will sacrifice for their leaders.”

So once again I explained that God is not in the event for in that we have our own agency and are able to make our own choices and our own decisions. But God is most definitely in the response. How we Act whether we are a leader or a worker, a husband or a wife, a Republican or a Democrat, our response to the trials and tests that are placed before us will show us what manner of men we have become. It will let us know if we have learned about respect, response, reactions, reality and regrets. We are the only ones who can change those things about us that are bad. We are the ones who have to have the determination in order to make the weight loss be permanent. We are the ones who have to get the second job in order to have enough money to pay our bills. We are the one who has to take our health into our own hands and quit smoking or drinking in order to feel better. Stop wondering who’s going to give you something for free. No one’s going to do it for us it is up to us to respond and I promise that if you include God in your goals your journey will be a lot easier. 

Thanks for reading my blog and as always I welcome your thoughts.


We Must Stand for Something or We Will Fall for Everything

Just a thought I had today as I ponder the state of our world and more importantly, our country. I know this is long but I do not apologize. These are thoughts that are pressing on my mind. I need to share them and if only one person finds help and comfort in my words, then I have done good.
We are living in a rough time. Many are trying to persuade us to change the way we feel, believe, act and love. Many are justifying their actions by telling us to have tolerance, compassion, acceptance. But in the end, they are asking us to go against what we know to be truth. Wickedness never was happiness…this is as true a statement today as it was many years ago.
Take a look at this…. Ross Douthat, writing for the “Gay Conservatism and Straight Liberation,” in the New York Times, June 28, 2015, Sunday Review section said, “Unfortunately I see little evidence that people are actually happier in the emerging dispensation, or that their children are better off, or that the cause of social justice is well-served, or that declining marriage rates and thinning family trees … promise anything save greater loneliness for the majority, and stagnation overall.”
I find this fascinating that this man, who is a preponing voice in the LGBT community, sees little evidence of greater happiness now that laws are being changed and supposed tolerance is being legislated.
I have found this advice to be true more often than not. It comes from President Thomas S. Monson of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. (You do not have to be a member of this church in order to understand the value in his words.)
“There are … so many kinds of voices in the world.” We are surrounded by persuasive voices, beguiling voices, belittling voices, sophisticated voices, and confusing voices. I might add that these are loud voices. I admonish you to turn the volume down and to be influenced instead by that still, small voice which will guide you to safety.
Disregard for the commandments has opened the way for what I consider to be the plagues of our day. They include the plague of permissiveness, the plague of pornography, the plague of drugs, the plague of immorality, and the plague of abortion, to name just a few. The scriptures tell us that the adversary is “the founder of all these things.” We know that he is “the father of all lies, to deceive and to blind men.”
I plead with you to avoid anything that will deprive you of your happiness here in mortality and eternal life in the world to come. With his deceptions and lies, the adversary will lead you down a slippery slope to your destruction if you allow him to do so. You will likely be on that slippery slope before you even realize that there is no way to stop. You have heard the messages of the adversary. He cunningly calls: Just this once won’t matter; everyone is doing it; don’t be old-fashioned; times have changed; it can’t hurt anyone; your life is yours to live. The adversary knows us, and he knows the temptations which will be difficult for us to ignore. How vital it is that we exercise constant vigilance in order to avoid giving in to such lies and temptations.
Great courage will be required as we remain faithful and true amid the ever-increasing pressures and insidious influences with which we are surrounded and which distort the truth, tear down the good and the decent, and attempt to substitute the man-made philosophies of the world. If the commandments had been written by man, then to change them by inclination or legislation or by any other means would be the prerogative of man. The commandments, however, were God-given. Using our agency, we can set them aside. We cannot, however, change them, just as we cannot change the consequences which come from disobeying and breaking them.”
Now, like I said in the beginning, these are just thoughts that have been weighing on my mind. We must have COURAGE. We must be willing to do that which is difficult, we must be able to stand up against the world and strive to do what is right.
Many of you will say that we believe that fighting for the rights of the few is the right thing to do and I would agree to a point. However, when you attempt to change the laws of nature and the laws of God you are not doing things that are constructive and for the greater good.
Yes! For crying out loud YES!! We should love all of God’s children but we should not have to give up that which WE believe to be true in the name of tolerance and love.
I love the sinners and the saints. I pray for this country and the world daily. I hope for the calm and the peace to return to this nation. I pray for tolerance among the differing factions of race and nobility. Those with money are not evil any more than those without are evil.
Let us all work towards a united cause of love, acceptance and tolerance for that which is sacred, that which is pure, that which is good.
All it takes for evil to exist and flourish is for good men to do nothing. I refuse to do nothing…
Thanks for reading to the end.
God bless US all.

Not My Intention: A Standing Ovation

I’m a Cancer and I love being the center of attention but I do not go out of my way to place myself in the spotlight. Don’t get me wrong. If the chance to be silly or do something crazy comes up, I usually take advantage of it. I’m not an actor or singer, I’m not a comedian and I don’t have the guts to get up on stage so the day I received my standing ovation I was quite overwhelmed and a bit embarrassed.

I was working for a company that specialized in safety products around the Las Vegas, Nevada area. I had been relocated there and my family had not yet joined me so that allowed me time to explore and work long hours. One of my favorite things to do was to go to the grand opening of new casinos.

I was invited to go to the grand opening of a new casino on the west side of town (the name is irrelevant for my story) I arrived a bit early but soon the place was hopping with well wishers and famous people trying to look cool. I had lived in Las Vegas for a short time so I wasn’t the best at these big events. I’m not a drinker, gambler or smoker so I quickly realized I was not in a spot where I could be myself. I felt very out-of-place to say the least. I decided to go for a walk.

As most who have visited Las Vegas know, it is very hard to find a place to be alone. When you are in these  big casinos, there are always places full of people but this night was different. I walked down a back area and into a game room that looked as if it was eventually going to be a place to drop off kids while mom and dad gambled.

I was having fun messing with some of the games. I played a few but couldn’t get my eye of the large, round contraption in the center of the room. I walked around it several times and kept staring at the different things this machine offered. On one side was a guitar. The next side was a booth with a microphone in it. On the third side was a bass guitar and finally…drums. It looked as if you put in the money and then you and three friends can create a concert.

I scanned through the screen to see the song list. I knew most of them. I read the instructions and then I decided that, since I was alone in this side of the casino, it wouldn’t hurt to maybe play a song or two. No need to be embarrassed if I screw up because no one was going to hear me right?

I pulled five dollars out of my pocket, found the change machine and got some tokens. I then sat at the electric drum set on the one side of this machine. I went through the songs again and found a few that I knew I could play. I put the token in and made my selection. The machine recognized that I was going to play the drums so it instructed me to play and it would fill in the other parts of the song.

AC/DC was a great choice I thought. Not to hard and something I could have fun playing to. The music was spot on and the machine added all the parts so as I played I began to feel as if the band was with me playing. It was so cool.

I jumped up at the end of the song and exchanged more money for tokens so I could play something else. I found a great song by Journey and then one by Boston. Each time I played, the computer filled in the other parts and the singer as well. This was so much fun!.

Now, feeling completely confident, I decided to play one of my all time favorite songs. I knew this one the best having played it in my basement for years. We’re Not Going To Take It by Twisted Sister. I put in the money and it counted it down. I was to start. So, being totally wrapped up in the moment I counted it down with the computer.

“One! Two! One, Two, Three, Four! And magic. The drums sounded amazing and soon Dee Snider was singing at the top of his lungs. The band had joined in and I actually became the drummer for Twisted Sister. A dream come true. This machine was so real sounding that I lost track of reality and slipped into another world. As I pounded away and the music played on, I sang with the band. I was having the time of my life. This was better than any slot machine.

I kept playing but didn’t notice the crowd that had formed in the room behind me. I just kept going until, as the song came to an end, the audience that had gathered, erupted in a standing ovation. Their cheers startled me and I jumped up turning around to see about fifty people cheering me on.

I took a bow and thought about running for the door then one guy yelled out, “Hey, what else does that thing do?”

I asked if anyone sang or played bass guitar or lead guitar. Three people hesitated but after some prompting from their friends, they stepped up and took their spots on the different sides of the machine. I explained the rules and then put the money in and selected four players. We then selected a few songs that we all knew and suddenly, we were a band. We sounded great. I was actually surprised.

People tossed money at our feet and we played for about an hour or so as the crowd cheered us at the end of each song.

I really can’t explain the elation that came to my heart that day. I knew that when I woke up I hadn’t intended to perform in front of a room of fifty or so strangers but I will never forget my standing ovation and the fun we all had.


Being Santa

I was eighteen the first time I put on the red suit. My mom decided that it would be fun to have me play Santa at our family Christmas party. Of course, I got voted down and the same old, smelly guy that had done it for years was retained and did the appearance. I really don’t know what the reason was that I didn’t get to do it other than I was still pretty young.

Now that I had the suit, mom and I figured we could use it. We stopped in on a few families in our church and I was able to visit with them. I sure enjoyed giving back to those who had helped me and the joy on the kids faces was so rewarding.

Putting on the suit seems to transform your heart. All your worries, stress and fears just melt away and this joy… no, this intense level of jolly hits you and your heart swells.You have a new high and it’s not drug induced. You find a happiness that cannot be described. A twinkle comes to your eye and your cheeks get all red. Your belly laughs become deeper and more genuine. You actually jiggle like jelly at times, or so it seems. It truly is joyful being Santa.

That same year I was blessed to be granted permission to go and visit some of the sick children at Primary Children’s Hospital in Salt Lake City, Utah.

As I visited with the children I felt bad that I couldn’t stay longer. I felt that my visit was actually helping these kids feel better. Staff, parents and patients alike were genuinely pleased to see Santa. I would walk up to doctors and nurses and ask about their days and I felt as if they were happy I was there. Just for a moment I felt I had given them some kind of relief from the stresses of their jobs. Even if they knew that I was just helping the real Santa, their day seemed less stressed because of the memories Santa invokes. Childlike innocence rushes forward and a giddy sensation tends to follow most adults when I approach them as Santa.

I remember far to well the fear and worry that came to my mind as I was asked to visit one young girl who was not doing well. The nurse told me she didn’t have much time and wasn’t sure she’d see Christmas morning. Could I do this? I wondered to myself and I worried that I wouldn’t do a good enough job. What do you say to a child who is in this condition?

I walked into her room and didn’t feel right being boisterous and loud. Instead, I approached her gently. I took her frail hand and got down on one knee. Tears filled my eyes as I thought about how sick this little baby was. I called her name softly and patted her cheek. She opened her eyes slowly and looked into my eyes. It took a minute for her to recognize Santa but once she did, oh boy! She was thrilled and perked up with a huge smile on her face.

I pushed aside my emotions and went about my work. The raw feelings just waiting beneath the surface. I knew that it wouldn’t take much to spark them and I’d start to cry again so, I ignored them and decided she needed me to be the best Santa I could be.

We talked briefly about her and her family. We talked about playing in the snow and making snowmen and snowball fights. We talked about what she wanted for Christmas and even though I don’t remember all that was said that day, I knew I needed to take the time to get to know her.

The hospital had informed some of the parents ahead of time that I may be stopping by. Her mother had graciously provided a present for me to give to her and as I handed this gift to this child, her heart filled with wonderment and joy…the tears flowed openly now. I couldn’t stop them.

I spoke to her of Jesus Christ and we talked about heaven. She said she knew that God was real because He had been with her many times. She told me how He had talked to her one night when she was alone and scared. I told her that if it wasn’t for Jesus Christ being born I wouldn’t have a job. I don’t think she cared about that or about my jokes. She was just happy for a moment to not be thinking about being sick. She was gracious and smiled as I told jokes but she was focused and slowly coming to the reality that she didn’t have much time left on this earth. Her level of maturity far exceeded my own.

I hugged her for a long time and then kissed her head. I thanked her for being so brave and so good. I encouraged her to say her prayers and then I hugged her dad and finally her mother. Her mom whispered a thanks in my ear but I knew who had been blessed by this visit. My heart was full to overflowing as the Spirit of God filled the room and testified to me that this little one would soon be hugged by Jesus.

I reassured the mom that this was God’s plan. I told her how I didn’t think this was fair but that it wasn’t for me to understand God’s purposes. I encouraged her to hold onto her husband and her family and that they would be a great source of strength over the next few days. I can’t explain why this little one was having to go through this trial but I knew it was for us to witness and that this was how we were to grow. This was to be a lesson for all of us. Nurses, doctors, parents and even Santa.

As I walked out of the hospital that day I knew my life had been changed. I had met a child that was going to be with God and that she was innocent and pure. I am grateful that this memory is still so vivid in my mind. She reminds me of an innocence and purity that I want to have in my own life. I decided that day that I would always try my hardest to carry that love and faith with me into every visit as I played Santa.

I have come to the knowledge that Jesus Christ is the very Son of God. That God lives and together they want us to be happy, to have joy, to strive to be good to our fellow-man. We must hold onto these lessons. Patience, love, kindness and striving to have purity are goals we should work on. Love in our homes and a deep sense of love for our family is vital. I know that it is OK to have faith and trust in the Lord.

I don’t put on that beautiful red suit as much as I’d like to these days. I would love to play Santa as much as I could during December and perhaps even more than that. But what I have gained from being Santa is a determination to carry with me that same feeling of trust in God, that same desire to be pure and ready, that same testimony that Jesus Christ is why we have Christmas and Santa believes in Him. I strive to carry with me the same feelings and testimony as I play Santa and I try to have the Christmas spirit with me all year-long.

May you have the Spirit of Christmas with you all year as you remember Christ is the reason for Christmas.

Merry Christmas.




First blog post

I look down at my hands and realize I’m not a writer or a person who does this professionally. I’m just me. A man who drives truck and has an opinion.

I have been driving various types of delivery vehicles for twenty eight years now. I have seen some stuff and while you are behind the glass of the windshield, you do a lot of thinking. I decided to write this blog so I could document my thoughts. Kind of a truckers journal. I’m not sure if it’s going to be entertaining or of worth to any of you but then it could.

I’m open to suggestions and thoughts you may have. Hopefully you will keep your thoughts clean and we can have a good experience together. I will tell you that I am a Christian but I’m not the most perfect person in the world. I do have my faults so please, have patience.

OK, climb aboard and let’s get this trip started. We’ve done our pre-trip and now we are off. We’ll stop for fuel, some snacks and a quick potty break and then it’s onto the open road. Buckle up, sit back, relax and enjoy the ride.

Glad to have you aboard.