Katdish.net

Happy Saturday everyone! This week on the twitter, it seems everyone was taking the “Which crazy writer are you?” test. Hardly scientific, but as it turns out I am Hunter S. Thompson. No big surprise there…

The best of me (or not) on the twitter this week:

@CassandraFrear @jpwire My long, flowing mane is in no way due to sea monkey.

But if you’re not already following @billycoffey & @AmySorrells, I would highly recommend doing so. Both very special to me.

I hesitate to do #FF, because I’m not kidding when I say I follow some amazing, wonderful people & I don’t want to leave anyone out.

Me too! RT @curtharding: FF @billycoffey //He has inspired me to write better and more often.

@CassandraFrear You don’t actually think I buy any of that crap do you? (in reply to CassandraFrear @katdish Good morning, you wild and crazy shopper, you.)

@billycoffey You is. (in reply to billycoffey @katdish I am, ain’t I?)

@billycoffey You’re so cultured. (in reply to billycoffey @katdish The only noise I hear at the moment are the voices of my two favorite redneck morning radio folks.)

@amysorrells Well, don’t hurt yourself. (in reply to amysorrells @katdish I mean, it’s a good THING. Although I THINK, too, on occasion.)

@CandySteele Ooo! Do it! (in reply to CandySteele @katdish I think I’m going to have to do a ghetto version of your SkyMall post – called Craigslist. #gotridoflotsacrap)

@CandySteele Thanks. Craptastic is a pretty sucktacular word, isn’t it?

@amysorrells Get that hairbrush out and sing it sister! (in reply to amysorrells “My heart can’t possibly break . . . When it wasn’t even whole to start with . . . ” ~Kelly Clarkson)

The pages are still blank, but there is a miraculous feeling of the words being there, written in invisible ink & clamoring 2 become visible – Vladimir Nabokov

Dear major dept store: my daughter is 8 yo. Not quite ready to dress like a prostitot. Love, katdish http://twitpic.com/1p95am

@JeffHolton You forget I live in Texas. And we’re all rich oil barons here. (in reply to JeffHolton @katdish You couldn’t afford me. Heard of Peggy Noonan? Kurt Vonnegut? Maya Angelou? AMATEURS!!)

@JeffHolton Wait…are you offering? (in reply to JeffHolton @katdish It’s same as “I ghostwrite for Katdish” vs. “She kinda mentioned me on her blog once, sorta.”)

How does one confuse “when I served in Vietnam” with “I never really served in Vietnam”? Just curious…

@SouthMainMuse Gaaaa! (in reply to SouthMainMuse @katdish If you start getting texts from this Tiger — it’s probably him.)

Tiger Woods is now following me. Although me thinks it’s not the golfer.

I wouldn’t know >RT @RachelleGardner: “Nothing sucks more than that moment during an argument when you realize you’re wrong.” #funnyquotes

@arestlessheart ATM? Oh…at the moment. For a minute there I thought you were withdrawing some cash. Which would be quite the multi-task! (in reply to arestlessheart @katdish doin’ okay atm – holding baby, trying to work up energy for the next thing…)

@amysorrells Hello, my little guina pig! How are you this afternoon?

@CassandraFrear Cuz she’s a cowgirl…

@CassandraFrear And @marni71 is going to be shot directly into Jon Bon Jovi

@CassandraFrear You know, @candysteele’s ashes are going to be shot out of a cannon, (in reply to CassandraFrear @katdish @jpwire Almost fell off my chair laughing! // RT @katdish Best part? Thompson’s ashes were fired from a cannon! What a way to go!)

@lainiegallagher It’s your world, Lainie. I’m just trying to live in it. (in reply to lainiegallagher @katdish I know; I can’t believe you even had to ask! :D)

@lainiegallagher Well of course you do! (in reply to lainiegallagher @katdish Yes.)

@lainiegallagher OMGoogle! Did you want a more specific test? (in reply to lainiegallagher Interesting. The quiz says I’m JD Salinger, and that I’ve been hiding for several decades. I haven’t even been alive for “several” decades!)

@jpwire @CassandraFrear Best part? Thompson’s ashes were fired from a cannon! What a way to go!

@CassandraFrear Hunter S. Thompson. So there you go…

Just took “Which Crazy Writer Are You?” and got: Hunter S. Thompson! Try it ➔ http://bit.ly/9iDefg

@redclaydiaries I think it means there is no spoon. (in reply to redclaydiaries @katdish I think it probably means something that u & I have such trouble w google calendar. What it means, I don’t know.)

@PeterPollock @billycoffey would be so proud. Well, maybe not the cookie dough part, but still. (in reply to PeterPollock @katdish I keep meaning to do something but apart from watch 24 and make cookie dough, I’ve not really done anything yet!)

@HeatheroftheEO Oh, he’s all Hey and Howdy to the rest of the world. You have no idea… (in reply to HeatheroftheEO I hope you get paid the big bucks to manage @billycoffey ‘s site. It can’t be easy, dealing w/ that tyrant. (I jest on Monday mornings)

The lottery is a tax on people who are bad at math. ~ Ambrose Bierce

@noveldoctor That’s you, Steve. (in reply to noveldoctor @katdish Just think of me as the cloud that gives the silver lining purpose.)

@noveldoctor sigh… (in reply to noveldoctor My Sbux is overflowing with shiny happy people…or shiny brilliant actors masking fathomless despair.)

@sarahmsalter Antonio the tiny wine steward. http://twitpic.com/1og9qp (in reply to sarahmsalter @katdish Awwww. So, now who do you hang out with at the grocery store?)

@sarahmsalter Sadly, he is gone. (in reply to sarahmsalter @katdish Say hi to the PCB for me. 🙂

Why do I put off grocery shopping until there’s no food in the house? Oh yeah…because I hate grocery shopping.

DH: you’re not wearing flops to church. Son: didn’t the 1st Christians wear flops to church? Me: Snort!

@redclaydiaries Spam bots need love too. (in reply to redclaydiaries @katdish I’ll have u know I love ALL of my followers. Except the unclothed ones.)

@gabbysherri Yes. Heaven forbid Steph dip below the 4800 follow mark. (in reply to gabbysherri @redclaydiaries -Steph- Sorry. I didn’t realize It. I just clicked on your name and saw that you were “unfollowed” by me. Sorry.)

@lainiegallagher I cain’t quit you Lainie! (in reply to lainiegallagher @katdish Must be. 😀 You know you love me!)

@lainiegallagher I’m sure it’s completely coincidental. (in reply to lainiegallagher @katdish Man! How does every person I know come up with the exact same nickname for me? Inconceivable!)

@lainiegallagher I’m doing both Judgey McJudgealot. (in reply to lainiegallagher @katdish are you actually eating with your daughter, or playing on your phone?)

I’m seeing a trend. http://twitpic.com/1o2s26

Hmmm… http://twitpic.com/1o2rll

Famous last words: No mom, I don’t need a fork.

Pei Wei Asian chicken salad http://twitpic.com/1o2khw

The picture of stubborness & weinie dogness. @buddylovethedog refuses to do his bidness in the rain. http://twitpic.com/1o1hvl

Just throw that crap away already!

Watching shows like Clean House and Hoarders makes me want to throw things at the TV.

Wow. After 9 am & I’ve yet to hear “There’s nothing to do” yet. Oh, wait. My kids are still asleep.

Okay, this is a repost. But since summer is just around the corner, I feel reposting this from last year is my re-gift to my old readers and a new re-gift to my new ones. Sorry/you’re welcome.

Oh, gentle reader! It’s been too long since my last Sky Mall post! Oh sure, I’m all for the occasional serious post and lest we forget my fabulous guest bloggers…

But I have neglected you, dearest Sky Mall! How could I go so long without paying homage to you: Giant book of overpriced, unnecessary crap practically begging me to make fun of you? Here it is the beginning of summer, and there’s no doubt piles of disposal income just lying around waiting to be spent! Right? Right? Okay, maybe not…whatever…

Hair is an amazing thing. (Nice segue, huh?) As mammals, we all have varying degrees of it. But we never seem content. We have too much in some places and not enough in others. This has not escaped the attention of the fine folks at the Sky Mall.

R.E.M. Spring Hair Remover $19.95

Do I really need to explain what this thing is? It’s basically a really tightly coiled spring that rips your facial hair out in a completely “pain free” manner. Yeee–aaah. Sure it does. Does it work? Just ask this satisfied Sky Mall customer:

“Wonderful gadget/tool. I’ve told many friends about this and they each plan to purchase one. I’ll be giving them for holidays gifts this year!”

Merry Christmas Aunt Margaret! Thought you might enjoy this as you are beginning to look like Uncle Phil!

And speaking of Uncle Phil, perhaps he might enjoy:

The Hairmax Laser Comb $495.00

“In a clinical study, HairMax treated hair loss and regrew hair for 93% of those who used it. HairMax users also report improved quality, shine and manageability.”

Don’t believe me? Check out THESE results!:

M’kay…I suppose that’s worth 500 bucks plus shipping and handling. Dear menfolk losing your hair: Keep your hair short. If you have a nice looking head, trying shaving it. Just say no to the comb over. Please?

“But katdish! You don’t understand! You have thick, wonderful hair! How can you stand in judgement?” Because I’m katdish…that’s what I do. Okay, okay…check this out:

Toppik Hair Building Fibers $21.95

“Toppik Makes Thin Hair Look Thick and Natural in 30 Seconds over 2 Million People Use It. Doctors Recommend it. Celebrities Won’t go on Without it. Now you can instantly eliminate the appearance of baldness and thinning hair. Toppik gives you greater coverage and a thick, full looking head of hair all in about 30 seconds!”

I’m no scientist or chemist, but I’m pretty sure this is similar to the “sea monkey principle”. (Don’t ask…I just know these things.)

By now you have a great head of hair. So you are no longer self-conscious about getting that hair wet! Time to hit the pool and get some exercise!

Endless Pool $20,900.00

“Our signature product, the Original Endless Pool is designed to fit just about anywhere, indoors or outside…This flexibility has allowed more than 12,000 customers to realize the dream of swimming at home in an Original Endless Pool.”

Wow! Twelve thousand customers? If I had a dollar for every satisfied customer, I still wouldn’t have enough money to buy that pool! I’m guessing you don’t either. No worries, you can still enjoy the cardiovascular benefits of swimming with this next product:

The AquaVee Portable Swim System Kit $84.90


“An easy to install system that turns any pool into a lap pool. The AquaVee installation time takes about 60 seconds and can be used anytime anywhere! The AquaVee is extremely portable and will fit any pool no matter the size.”

Now, I realize to the untrained eye, this looks like some surgical tubing, suction cups and a tube of silicon, but trust me….That’s exactly what it is.

This next catalog item I chose for a couple of reasons. First, the picture is pretty freaky, and second, I’m wondering why that guy didn’t buy the Hairmax Laser Comb. Don’t you think he could afford it? Me thinks, yes…

Executive Health Evaluation: $3,495.00

Experience a day-long, 5-star treatment at one of our beautiful contemporary Centers…(blah, blah, blah….)

Benefits may include: (may include? Craptastic!)

Decreased risk of age-related disease
Improved muscle tone
Decreased body fat
Increased energy
Increased libido (wink, wink!)
Sharper thinking (so maybe you won’t spend 3500 bucks on a fancy doctor’s appointment!)

The final item up for review has nothing to do with anything really. It just made me giggle:

Giddyup! Core Exerciser – Dual Motor $469.00

“The Giddyup! Core Exerciser is the latest innovation in core strength training! This core exerciser benefits posture, improves balance, builds core strength and has up to 25 speed combinations.”

“The trotting and galloping action of a horse helps strengthen the rider’s spine and pelvic muscles, improves posture and stimulates seldom-used core muscles, in the dorsal and abdominal regions. This product also invigorates the body, promotes good blood flow, and an increased metabolism.”

I’m going to be honest. If they could get Debra Winger to reprise her role as Sissy in Urban Cowboy, mount that thing with a cowboy hat and a Lone Star Beer, I’d have my Visa card out right now…Seriously…am I the only one giggling? Okay…whatever…

There were a few reasons I decided to move to a WordPress blog. The first and foremost was that I felt I needed a more professional, cleaner look. I really like it. I hope you like it too. Since I’m fairly pathetic and lost when it comes to technical stuff, I knew I would need help getting the look and the flexibility I was after in a new website. Choosing a template was an exhaustive, frustrating search. But once I settled on the Standard Theme, there was really no question as to who I would ask to help me–the person whose work I already knew. Peter Pollock was largely responsible for putting together what I consider to be (in my not so unbiased opinion) one of the best author websites on the internet. And I’m not the only one who thinks so. BillyCoffey.com will be featured in a presentation by the PR firm representing Snow Day (Billy’s debut novel) as a shining example of an effective author website.

Peter was able to take my concepts and Billy Coffey’s eloquent words and create a place that I feel truly reflects who Billy is as a writer and as a person. That’s not as easy as it looks.

I’ve asked Peter to explain what he does. If you’re looking to make a move and you’re in need of assistance, he gets my highest recommendation.

Here’s Peter:

@Katdish suggested I write a post for her about why you should host your website with me. Here’s my thoughts:

One question vexes all businesses, from the heady days of starting out, when they believe their product to be unique and irresistible, to the deep dark days of desperately trying to come up with a new marketing strategy for a dying product, the question remains the same: “Why should people buy my product?”

• Why buy Coke not Pepsi
• Why buy a Mac not a PC
• Why buy Ford not Toyota?

In reality, there is generally not much separating different brands. Really, how much difference is there between Coke and Pepsi? A slightly different taste, different sized bubbles and a different colored can – and that’s pretty much all.

The same is very much true of blog hosts. Our various offerings are virtually identical, in reality, and the average person couldn’t see or feel the differences.

So what is the difference?

Why I Started My Business

Back in 2002, I set up a website for my church. It was my first site and my first experience with web hosting – and it wasn’t a good one.

My specifications were:

1. Good service
2. A price our tiny church could afford

The host I found seemed great at first, but a year later a discovered that their customer service was TERRIBLE, just terrible.

It was then that I uttered those fateful words:

“I could do better than this!”

On May 4th 2004 we signed our first customer (who is thankfully still with us) and we’ve been in the business ever since.

Our original mission was to help small churches and charities get their first foot on the website ladder.

My passion was, and still is, to help people get web-connected. I believe the web is such a big part of so many people’s lives that churches and charities simply can’t afford NOT to have a web presence.

Last February, I wrote my first book and started investigating how to get it published. It was then that I fully entered the strange and exciting worlds of writing and blogging and it became apparent to me that here was another area where people desperately need to have a good quality but affordable website. (See Jody Hedlund’s excellent piece on why an online presence is essential for writers).

Through my blog, twitter and Facebook, I met writers and bloggers and began to try to help them build their online presence. I soon realized that most people were being held back by their current blogging platform and the cost of moving to something better.

That’s when the idea for NewBlogHosting.combegan to take shape in my mind. Here was another market that I was passionate about helping and I had the facilities necessary to help them. It didn’t take me long to put two and two together and start designing a service specifically for bloggers.

In short, if you’re looking to start a new blog, either because you want to start your first one or because the one you have needs improving, NewBlogHosting.com is designed to help you.

At just $35 per year, we feel we have the pricing right to balance the need for covering our costs with making the plan affordable to everyone.

We have designers we can recommend and I’m always willing to give a little help here and there to solve problems my clients are having with setting up and adding things to their blogs.

I believe that the difference between us and the competition is that we’re not just in it for the money, we’re in it to help YOU – and we’d love to be given the chance to prove that to you.

Please feel free to visit our site at NewBlogHosting.com or contact me through twitter – and if you sign up with us before the end of June 2010, we’re also giving $15 from each new plan sold to charity.

image courtesy of photobucket.com

I’ve known today’s guest blogger for almost as long as I’ve been blogging. She had another blog back then, but decided to start a new one because many of her friends and family read her other blog and she felt she couldn’t write as openly and honestly there. I get that. You’ll get that too after you read the following post. She’s written her own bio, so I won’t say much about her except that she’s an exceptional writer, she makes me smile and that I bloggy love her!

Here’s Lainie:

I am a follower of Christ, the wife of David, a teacher to middle schoolers, and the adoptive mommy to an ornery feline, and I do try to keep them in that order! Reading and writing are my two favorite things, and I hate all things domestic, except children. (I guess whatever kids God blesses me with will live in a messy home and eat grilled cheese sandwiches!) I feel called to write the story God gave me, and I pray that whomever He brings to read it will see Him and not me.

Captive – A Prologue

They lied. Are they supposed to do that? Aren’t they supposed to serve and to protect? Well, if you call drippy pizza and oldish card games “service,” then I guess they served me well. If you call taking away my family “protection,” then they shone as saviors. I wouldn’t have called it that, though. They lied.

It began with a knock. Actually, it could have been the doorbell. I don’t recall exactly, since I was engrossed in erasing my mess in the kitchen after making hamburger patties. My secret recipe yielded the most coveted burgers in the family, so the job always fell to me. Although I knew that the mothers were simply exploiting child labor and relishing an evening off, I still felt special for it. Specialness had become a stranger in those days, along with any positive interaction with my mother or grandmother. This was in large part due to the mounting evidence that they knew absolutely nothing. They knew me least of all. So, I enjoyed burger nights, as long as no one hovered or asked me annoying questions during the process.

Lost in my own pressing thoughts, very little could distract me. The meaty aroma creeping into every corner of the cramped kitchen scarcely caught my attention. I ignored some irrelevant statement—or was it a question?—from my old mother’s old mother. Scrubbing and cleaning and contemplating great things, I wished away the mothers in my life.

The knock at the door—or was it the doorbell?—jolted me out of my grandiose plans. It matters little how the intruders announced their presence; it’s what came after that really matters.

No one came to the door—ever. And I knew from years of experience with my mother that if someone actually did come to the door, then no one answered it—ever. The thing to do is mute the television and stare intently through the peeky hole until they leave. If they leave, you turn up the volume and resume life. If they don’t leave, well, then you should seriously consider the back door. Someone would leave eventually; there would be no meeting between intruder and inhabitant.

My grandmother was different. She didn’t know how to live like we did. To her, mommies and daddies stayed together. Knocks at the door signaled unexpected opportunities to chat with a friend while exchanging a cup of sugar for a smiling promise to share the goodies. Needless to say, my grandmother didn’t hesitate to go to the door. She walked effortlessly and without concern, as though the knock—or doorbell—physically drew her trusting hand to the doorknob beyond her control. I threw the towel on the counter, watching and shaking my head in complete disbelief of her naiveté. She disappeared stupidly into the entryway, but I can’t deny that I crept around the corner to see what menace might be lurking.

I’ll never forget the first thing I saw, or, rather, I should say “things.” Even though the door instantly exposed us and them, I really didn’t notice the people right away. Instead, I noticed the things—the things that meant everything. They meant my world crashing down around me. They meant imprisonment—they meant devastation—they meant tears—they meant danger—they meant insecurity. Cold and gleaming, they meant the loss of life as we all knew it.

Handcuffs.

And my mother was standing inside them. My strong, defiant, tragic mother was inside of them and she made no attempt to get out. After all of our escapes, after all of our near-misses, she wasn’t even trying!

What do I do? How do I get out? I stepped back incredulously. We’ve never experienced a situation quite like this; the cops have never been quite this close. But, we can do this. They have guns, but we can do this. Think. Look in her eyes. Is there a plan? Is she sending me a secret message? What is she trying to say?

Her eyes revealed only resignation and sorrow. They whispered pity. My mother felt sorry for me. The years of running, hiding, and lying had completely exhausted her, but I never saw it until that moment. More than that, however, I couldn’t get past the obvious sorrow on my behalf. She wished I didn’t see what I saw, and she prayed that what was about to happen wouldn’t.

They entered, sat, argued, discussed, reassured, directed, planned, explained. Sitting in my grandmother’s informal living room on Central Avenue, two uniforms and two mothers made plans about my tomorrow.

I heard only fragments of what those four said in that room that night, for I was still planning my escape. Whether the mothers would make their escape or not, I would. I thought about my escape as I obediently packed my bags. I thought about my escape as my mother lifted her tired, handcuffed arms up over my head to give me one last, tearful, pitiful, awkward hug—the one that must hold me over for many years.

Entering the wide open, seeing crouched men wearing black, aiming guns, and surrounding the house, I abandoned all plans of escape. Not knowing what else to do, I numbly pulled my body into the designated squad car. Defiantly extinguishing sudden tears, I watched the uniforms direct my mommy into another car, worlds away. It was no use. I was only twelve, and the men did have guns after all.

I didn’t know where they took my mother. Well I knew, but I didn’t know a precise location and I had trouble seeing it in my head. Stripes? Orange jumpsuits? Chains? Humiliating initiations? Maybe. I bet she didn’t even have walls around her toilet. I bet she thought about me the whole time. On second thought, maybe she was planning her escape. That sounds a lot like her.

As for me, I stayed in limbo at the city police department for endless hours. The uniforms had names and gave me food. They let me call friends to explain the inexplicable. They showed me my horribly inaccurate—and completely ugly—age-enhanced photograph. As we talked, they promised me I would not have to stay with my pedophilic father that night. They understood the reason for our fugitive way of life.

I couldn’t bear the thought of experiencing everything my mother had warned me about. She had always expressed her thankfulness that I didn’t remember. Chatting with these friendly men, I felt my own sense of thankfulness because it looked like I’d never have to worry about it, even now. They confided in me that pending paperwork would let me stay with my grandmother under a sort of “house arrest” until everything could be straightened out. I relaxed and felt better. These cops—the people we had spent my life outwitting and outrunning—were actually going to help me.

Well, they lied, and I revisited plans of escape.

—

This is my story.

To read more from Lainie Gallagher, visit her at his blog Life is Good and follow her on twitter at @LainieGallagher

image courtesy of photobucket.com

“To keep me from becoming conceited because of these surpassingly great revelations, there was given me a thorn in my flesh, a messenger of Satan, to torment me. Three times I pleaded with the Lord to take it away from me. But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong.” – 2 Corinthians 12: 7-10

Through your pain

His grace is sufficient

Through your joy

His grace is sufficient

Through your suffering

His grace is sufficient

Through your triumphs

His grace is sufficient

Through your defeats

His grace is sufficient

Through your denial

His grace is sufficient

Through your feeble attempts to earn grace

His grace is sufficient

Through your self-righteousness

His grace is sufficient

Through your laughter

His grace is sufficient

Through your tears

His grace is sufficient

For his power is made perfect in weakness.

“My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” In case you’re wondering, is my favorite scripture.

This post is part of the One Word at a Time blog carnival: Grace. For more stories about grace, please visit my friend Bridget Chumbley at One Word at a Time.

Having the evening breeze blow over you and make ripples in your glass of tea is a pretty nice way to end your day, which is why I love my porch. It’s a good vantage point to my own little slice of world, one that unfolds before me in the sort of high-definition that far eclipses my television.

My porch serves as a good object lesson, too. It’s proof that if you hold still and listen long enough, something pretty insightful will happen.

That didn’t seem to be the case last night. I was holding still well enough. That wasn’t the problem. And the problem really wasn’t the listening, either. I was doing that, too.

The problem was what I was hearing.

The dog was a mutt. Half beagle, half Australian shepherd, with maybe a little bit of border collie thrown in. Having all that muddled DNA inside you would surely cause more than a little confusion. Trust me when I say that dog was more than a little confused.

So was its owner, who at the moment seemed a little perplexed as to if he was walking the dog or the dog was walking him. He tripped and pulled and pushed. The dog ran and stopped and tangled the leash around its owner’s legs. It was a sight.

And over and over between the barks came pleas of despair and sorrow:

“Willsey, stop!” “Willsey, come!” “Willsey, hold still!” “Dang it, Willsey!”

It took a full five minutes for the two of them to get from the corner of my block to the front of my house. And even though I was enjoying the cool of the evening, the man was sweating as much as a boxer after a ten round fight.

Willsey stopped and sniffed at our mailbox post. Just before he was ready to do his business, I let out a small cough. The owner looked at me on the porch and gave the dog a quick jerk. He’d have to hold it for the next post down the road.

We smiled at each other and said hello.

“Wouldn’t want a dog, would you?” he asked me.

“Sorry,” I said. “Looks like he’d be a full time job.”

“Buddy,” he said, “you don’t know the half of it.”

I nodded toward the mutt hanging from the end of the leash. “Kind of a strange name for a dog. Willsey?”

He laughed and said, “Yeah well, happened by accident.”

He bent down, rubbed the dog on its head, and was rewarded by a face full of slobber. He snorted, the dog snorted, and I snorted.

“My little girl brought him home,” he said. “Just had to have a dog, and she worried me to death. You think this dog’s ugly now? You should have seem him when he was a pup. Looked like Satan himself had coughed him up. And she says, ‘Daddy, can we keep him?’”

“And what’d you say?” I asked.

“I said, ‘Well, we’ll see.”

“Which I’m guessing became Willsey.”

“Yep,” he said. “Seven years ago. Hated him at first. Still kinda do. But you know what? He’s growin’ on me.”

He patted the dog again and got another face full of slobber.

“I like it,” I told him. “The name and the story.”

The man laughed and then proceeded to drag/push/pull Willsey on down the road.

“Neighbor’s got a fresh coat of paint on the mailbox post,” I shouted to him.

“Oh, Willsey’s gonna love that,” I heard.

I smiled to myself and resumed my rocking. I didn’t know who to feel sorry for the most, the man who was stuck with the dog or the dog who was stuck with the man. Maybe both should have been pitied in equal measure. Then again, maybe they both deserved each other.

But I wondered about all those things I’d said “We’ll see” to in my life, all those things I thought would happen or wouldn’t and then didn’t or did. And then I wondered about all the other people who used that phrase every day. We never know what’s coming in this life. We can seldom see what challenges or blessings wait just around the next corner.

And we can seldom see the blessings in our challenges, too.

To read more from Billy Coffey, visit him at his blog What I Learned Today and follow him on twitter at @BillyCoffey

Obedient – submissive to the restraint or command of authority: willing to obey.

If you grew up in church, chances are you have heard the song “Trust and Obey”. Church folks love to teach that to kids. Me? Never a big fan of that song. Not because I don’t think it’s important for us to trust and obey God. I really do believe that. I just take issue with the lyrics:

Trust and obey,
for there’s no other way
To be happy in Jesus,
but to trust and obey

Because you see, sometimes I don’t want to be told to obey. For me, that song seems almost like a threat. “You had better obey what I’m telling you if you want to be happy in Jesus.”

Nobody likes ultimatums.

I didn’t give my life to Christ because someone told me if I didn’t I was going to hell. I gave my life to Christ because I finally understood the depth of His love for me. You can’t force willful obedience any more than you can force someone to accept Christ. They have to come to both willingly if either is to be sincere.

I know I’ve posted the following quote on numerous occasions – here and elsewhere, and I may be getting off on a bit of a tangent, but it’s probably my favorite quote on Christianity of all times, so I’ll share it again:

The only thing worse than the joke you don’t get is the explanation that is bound to follow: an explanation that, while it may help you see why you should have seen the humor that you so lamely missed, is little likely to make you laugh. It may provoke you to muster a sympathy snicker so as to avoid more of an already tedious and misdirected lecture. It may inspire a mild giggle of recognition, but it will hardly ever raise a real belly-laugh, which was the original desired effect.

And so, here I go — me and a dozen thousand other people — trying to explain a joke that we would do better to learn to better tell. I am setting out to explain again why Jesus is the only true hope for the world, why we should put faith in Him, and what all of that won’t mean. I am collecting the information, selecting from what I hope will be usable as evidence, arranging my findings into arguments, framing it for presentation and recognizing that, while it may be fine as far as it goes, it doesn’t go far enough.

But then I remember two things. The first thing I remember is how I once won an argument with a heathen friend of mine who — after I had whacked away his last scrap of defense, after I had successfully cut off every possible escape route that he could use, after I backed him into an inescapable corner and hit him with a great inarguable truth — blew me away by simply saying, “I do not want to be a Christian. I don’t want your Jesus Christ.” There was no argument left to be had or won. Faith is a matter of the will as much as it is of the intellect. I wanted to believe in Jesus. My friend wanted to believe in himself. In spite of how convincing my reason was, my reason was not compelling.

So the second thing I remember is this:

I am a Christian because I have seen the love of God lived out in the people who know Him. The Word has become flesh and I have encountered God in the people who have manifested (in many “unreasonable” ways) His Presence; a presence that is more than convincing, it is a Presence that is compelling. I am a Christian not because someone explained the nuts and bolts of Christianity to me, but because there were people who were willing to be the nuts and bolts, who through their explanation of it, held it together so that I could experience it and be compelled by it to obey. “If I be lifted up,” Jesus said, “I will draw all men unto me.”

So, here I offer what is possibly the worst thing that can be offered: an explanation of a joke. And, what makes this more inexcusable than the fact that this is that, is the added fact that this is an explanation of a joke you’ve already gotten. I offer it anyway. I offer it in the hope that it might somehow encourage you to live out your lives and, by your living, tell the joke that I, in my writing, so feebly attempt to explain. Love one another, forgive one another, work as unto God, let the peace of Christ reign in your hearts. Make it your ambition to lead quiet lives. Obey. Greet one another with a holy kiss. No one will argue with that.

-Rich Mullins

image courtesy of photobucket.com

Seems I was a fountain of useless information and unsolicited advice on the twitter this week with topics ranging from new websites to feet scraping to creepy childrens books and every thing in between.

The best of me (or not) on the twitter this week:

@CandySteele Me write code? I don’t even understand suduko. (in reply to CandySteele @katdish Your blogroll phones well. Tell me you’re not writing code. Please tell me.)

@lainiegallagher Do you realize that if you & I were morphed into 1 person we would be the most demanding person EVER? (in reply to lainiegallagher @katdish It’s decided, then. It should be fast by tomorrow. 😀 )

@lainiegallagher Well that’s true. (in reply to lainiegallagher @katdish Haha I know… me too! Make him fix it. I mean, your list of demands is already long. What’s one more?)

@JeffHolton Don’t mention it. Unsolicited advice: just another service I offer. (in reply to JeffHolton RT @katdish: @JeffHolton If they ask U what UR weaknesses R, don’t say, “I tend to oversleep & call in sick a lot after 90 days.” // Thx. 🙂

SNORT! RT @br8kthru: Wow. It smells like boiled rotten cabbage in our office hallway… & not in a good way. 🙂

@arestlessheart Snort! I’m going to unfollow myself now. (in reply to arestlessheart #FF MUST FOLLOW @katdish 😉

When someone does a #FF in all caps that says MUST FOLLOWS, it makes me think “You’re not the boss of me!”

@Helenatrandom Hmmm…Now there’s a thought. My feet do need a good scrape and polish. (in reply to Helenatrandom @katdish Sounds to me like the ladies need a retreat as well… to a spa….)

@br8kthru I actually DO appreciate how men’s minds work. I consider it one of my greatest strengths. (in reply to br8kthru @katdish Nice! You have to appreciate how men’s minds work, right?)

@br8kthru DH is going on a “leadership retreat” w/Jeff & 2 other elders. To the beach. With the boat. And fishing poles.

There IS only one me, for which many are grateful//RT @CassandraFrear: @katdish There’s only one you. Shine.

I think it’s really funny that folks will go to such lengths to defend a creepy childrens book.

RT @marni71: @duane_scott @katdish Whatever dude. If my MIL broke into my house to rock my husband to sleep, I’d taze her.

@duane_scott guess one of us still holds a valid man card. (in reply to duane_scott @katdish true. But its also sweet. Did you lose your entire heart to Texas? The book still makes me choke up.)

@duane_scott It’s Creepy. (in reply to duane_scott @katdish @PeterPollock Love you Forever? The kids book? Don’t go hatin’ on that one. Its a childhood favorite.)

@PeterPollock I love you forever’s creepiness stems more from the artwork than from the wordage. (in reply to PeterPollock @CandySteele I’m not sure I understand the giving tree. Someon gave me it and said it reminded her of me? Never heard of Love you Forever)

@duane_scott @JeffHolton @CandySteele Possibly the best book ever written? Hmph! As Triumph the Dog would say, “For me to POOP on!”

@forthegirls Spending time with family, are we? (in reply to forthegirls My tongue is gonna have some serious teeth marks from biting it all day. Lord please let this day hurry)

I should probably go write something. My mind is a bit rambly.

Do you know what would be really mean thing to do? Let your dog lick a bowl clean & then put it back in the cabinet.

@buzzbyannies What to the eva, Annie (in reply to buzzbyannies @Katdish I had no idea there was such a thing as sugar free Ragu. Probably because I make my spaghetti sauce from scratch.)

Snort! Got a new fitness follow

As part of a new healthy eating regime, I had spaghetti made with Ragu-no sugar added. Which was really not bad once I added some sugar.

@RandDuren I must admit, he’s very good at playing David Caruso. (in reply to RandDuren @katdish I love him haha!)

@RandDuren You are crazy. Because David Caruso is so annoying. (in reply to RandDuren Call me crazy but I feel like watching CSI:Miami… I miss Horatio putting his glasses on.)

@CandySteele Is that a real word? (in reply to CandySteele @katdish @BridgetChumbley Or medical terms? Rectoretinitis is one of my favs.)

@CandySteele Whatever helps you sleep at night, Candy. (in reply to CandySteele @katdish See his left ear? When it’s bent, that means I’m on his mind. So there.)

@buzzbyannies Actually, my feet need a good scraping. You’re welcome. (in reply to buzzbyannies @Katdish Only if your toes look as fabulous as mine.)

@CandySteele Nah…he’s thinking how much he’d like to be sitting at my feet. (in reply to CandySteele Bozley couldn’t care less about @buzzbyannies new pedi. He’s really just dreaming of me. #puppyfix #NiceToesAnnie http://twitpic.com/1nb9f8)

@CassandraFrear Words to live by.

RT @CassandraFrear: @billycoffey OK. Now. Discovery Channel was not what I meant by being on to something. Maybe you shd listen to @katdish

@billycoffey Thought so. (in reply to billycoffey @katdish Well I’ll make an exception there, of course!)
@CassandraFrear I’m content, I just like to see what I’m missing. (in reply to CassandraFrear @billycoffey @katdish I love to travel. But “there is great gain in godliness with contentment”. (1 Tim 6) Billy’s on to something.)

@billycoffey Whatcha gonna do if Donnie Baseball invites you to a Yankees game? Decline because your mountains won’t let you? (in reply to billycoffey @katdish Isn’t that what the Discovery Channel is for?)

@billycoffey There’s a big old world out there Billy! VA is beautiful, but you need to see the Grand Canyon & other places. (in reply to billycoffey @katdish Oh hush! The mountains won’t let me.)

@billycoffey You never leave where you live now. (in reply to billycoffey @makeadiff21 WOW. If I lived there, I’d never leave.)

@lainiegallagher Oh, like you could do that. You’d miss me too much. (in reply to lainiegallagher @duane_scott I say we band together and boycott @katdish ‘s blog until it’s fixed!)

@KathleenOverby Because people are annoying, that’s why. (in reply to KathleenOverby why would a person bother to set up a ficticious blog/profile to comment japanese symbols into my comments? It’s not even spam. It’s numbers)

@chrissulli Why do you say that? Do you have any idea how many years he’s been writing? Almost as many as you’ve been alive. (in reply to chrissulli @katdish reading @billycoffey leaves me part in awe he is such a good writer and part discouraged)

@PeterPollock, Would you please put a (dot) between katdish and net on my website? @lainiegallagher is breaking out in hives.

@lainiegallagher SNORT! I KNEW you would notice that! (in reply to lainiegallagher @katdish The fact that you don’t have a [dot] does drive me nuts.)

@lainiegallagher I think you secretly do, but won’t admit it. I also think if I spelled my name wrong on that header it would drive you nuts (in reply to lainiegallagher @katdish Do I ever like anything?)

@lainiegallagher Of course. I didn’t think you would like it. (in reply to lainiegallagher @katdish I like it. Except for that pesky font…)

@CandySteele He works for the “You can tell an engineer, but you can’t tell them much” Railroad. (in reply to CandySteele @katdish I did not know that. What railroad?)

@buzzbyannies Huh…go figure. (in reply to buzzbyannies Just took an online personality test and the results are that I am sarcastic. Huh.)

@SBeeCreations You killed my father…prepare to die.

RT @SBeeCreations: @katdish You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means.

@Helenatrandom INCONCEIVABLE (in reply to Helenatrandom @katdish I l know how you feel. @duane_scott is the only one who tweeted me today. (TWSS) And that was after I’d been here an hour…)

Just so you know, I can see all you people talking amongst yourselves but not to me. Hmph!

@shrinkingcamel And you are one fine looking camel, Brad. (in reply to shrinkingcamel Being good-looking helps your career. http://bit.ly/8lMZCw)

@CandySteele Yes. Feel free to live vicariously through me. (in reply to CandySteele @PeterPollock In case you didn’t know, @katdish does anything she wants to. That’s why we love her so.)

@PeterPollock Easy, I threatened my friends on #FOTTSP to either join my site or lose admin privileges. Power is good. (in reply to PeterPollock @katdish So let’s get this straight.. you haven’t even launched your new blog yet but you already have 13 ‘friends’ on it? how’d you do that?)

@CandySteele I picked out the font, he loaded it for me & changed it 562 times until I liked it. I’m a pleasure to work with. (in reply to CandySteele @katdish Did he do the fancy schmancy header too? Or did you do that? #randomfontarrhea #cool)

“I know the crap out of women.” ~ Michael Scott

@jamieworley I didn’t realize barns could marry in Georgia. (in reply to jamieworley Slideshow from a super-sweet barn wedding NE of Atlanta: http://worleyarts.com/blog/archives/1743)

RT @PeterPollock: I just did something perfectly – on the 593rd attempt!
I’m really not hard to please, I only expect perfection.

@SurfCorp I think twitter should pay me. (in reply to SurfCorp If you had to pay for Twitter what would it be worth to you every month?)

@noveldoctor You are really ARE Eeyore. (in reply to noveldoctor God hit the reset button on Twitter to remind us we’re all made of the same stuff…low self-esteem.)

RT @unmarketing: I need a Facebook enema, too much crap in my stream.

@PeterPollock Yes. You are correct. We are all rich oil barons. (in reply to PeterPollock My understanding from TV is that all Texans are rich oil barons. Is that correct?)

I really need to narrow down my categories list for my new site. I think I can eliminate “My big fat head” & “oreo cakesters”

image courtesy of photobucket.com

I had a recent conversation with a friend who told me about the winner of a senior thesis writing contest at the local college. What was the topic of the winning entry? The writer’s belief that all of the major characters in The Lord of the Rings were gay.

I’ll give you a minute so you can soak in that last line.

This reminded me of another group of folks who seemed hell-bent on getting J. K. Rowling to publically proclaim that Professor Dumbledore of Harry Potter fame was a homosexual.

My question is, WHY?

I’m not singling out the Gay and Lesbian movement, I’m just so sick and tired of people trying to make everything slant towards their own political agenda and then shove it down all of our collective throats.

The beauty of a well written story is that it allows the reader to create their own concepts of the scenery and characters. The reason great books seldom translate into great movies is because your concept of a hero or heroine will always be a bit different from mine. That’s a good thing. A good storyteller will always allow room for the reader to shade in the imagery with their own brushstrokes.

It’s why The Giving Tree can be a beautiful tale of unconditional love to you while it can be a story of abuse, selfishness, enabling and codependency to me.

It’s why we can quote a guy like Friedrich Nietzche whose words are often hauntingly beautiful when most of us who know anything about the man knows what a sick bastard he really was.

So, all of you with your single-minded agenda—would you just stuff a sock in it? Can we just agree to disagree on some things?

The world can be a hard, cold and scary place. When I seek to escape into the refuge of a good book, I really don’t need you looking over my shoulder insisting that Robinson Crusoe escaped to a life at sea because he was being unfairly persecuted for his latent pirate tendancies.

End of katrant.

Wow.

I feel much better now.

Carry on.

On April 30, 2008 I began my maiden voyage into the blogosphere with the following statement:

“I’m not really sure what this blog is going to be about. But I’ve found myself writing really long comments on other people’s blogs, so I figured I’d start my own and not subject anyone to my rambling commentaries unless they really want to read them.”

Since I had no real defined goal or purpose for this this blog, I thought I would steal a line from a favorite t-shirt:

“People say I have ADD. They just don’t understand…Hey look, a chicken!

And while I feel “Hey Look a Chicken” was a perfect title for my meandering ramblings, this blog has become more than that. I began to take things a bit more seriously. Not myself, of course (well, mostly not myself), but the influence I have on others.

Whoa! I know that sounds like an incredibly arrogant thing to say. I don’t mean it to be. But here’s the thing–all of us have a certain degree of influence. The more influence we have, the greater the sense of responsibility we feel. Unless, of course, you’re a professional athlete, but I digress…

What started out as a hobby blog has turned into so much more to me. It’s a meeting place, a conversation place, a place to vent, to ramble and to encourage. It’s also become a place to share the spotlight with others much more talented than yours truly.

So, it’s time to say goodbye to Hey Look a Chicken and tidy up a bit. To facilitate a cleaner, more professional yet still katdishy appearance, my geeky guru Peter Pollock has been hard at work on my brand spanking new website. A calmer, less distracting website where the writing is highlighted instead of all the stuff in the sidebars. (As an aside, I’m really hoping to find a place for Awesome Cat, because he is, after all, AWESOME!)

The content will remain much the same. You’ll still find a post by Billy Coffey on Mondays and I will continue to introduce (and re-introduce) other writers on Wednesdays. And yes, I still reserve the right to be completely random and ridiculous the rest of the week. Or serious, if the mood strikes.

I’m packing up my stuff and “moving to the light” as Peter refers to it. (“It” being a WordPress blog.)

Thank you all so much for your continued support and encouragement. I hope to see you at the new place:

katdish.net