Standing on the Threshold of Tomorrow

What if?

I have been thinking about that question lately.

It is interesting to run down the possibilities of changing something in our past and then projecting forward.

What if, I had not joined the Air Force so many years ago? Where would I be? Heck, what if I could speak a foreign language and wouldn't have had to transfer to Syracuse to graduate from college?

What if--all of the things that make me who I am were different? What if I could change anything?

Well, I've been dealing with this question a bit--and wouldn't you know it, but some really good advice came my way on the radio yesterday in a song by Matt Maher titled Hold Us Together. I've added a link to a YouTube version if you want to listen to it.

The final chorus says it all about answering the "what if's" in life:

And love will hold us together
Make us a shelter to weather the storm
And I'll be my brother's keeper
So the whole world would know that we're not alone

This is the first day of the rest of your life
This is the first day of the rest of your life
'Cause even in the dark you can still see the light
It's gonna be alright, it's gonna be alright

I do not need to be a slave to yesterday by constantly asking myself "what if" because the "what if's" have made me who I am and my task--is to go forward from here into the future.  I may not ever have a dive boat in the Florida Keys--but I have so much more. And the possibilities? Well--they are not endless, but they are uncountable.

Out the Hotel Window - Denver again

Denver in the Morning

So I almost forgot to do the out the hotel window picture of the day. This morning the view was awesome. The sun rise in the east was reflecting off the western clouds over the mountains.

It is hard to see since my iPhone camera doesn't have great resolution.

It was 90 degrees yesterday when I arrived, but the breeze was cool even so because there is low humidity.






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Location:Tower Rd,Aurora,United States

Monday Musings - August 29, 2011

1. Irene, the hurricane, was not a very good house guest. But thankfully, Chris and I suffered little damage--mostly tree debris in the yard. I know many others were not so fortunate.

2. What a week it was--and I hope never to repeat. We had an earthquake and a hurricane packed into the week.

3. I was reading Aesop's Fables on my Kindle on the plane yesterday and ran across a few old lines to remember.

4. One of Aesop's stories reminded me of something so true--it is about how good, when connected to evil suffers the consequences of being associated with the evil. "Birds of a feather flock together."

5. I also enjoyed the story about The Flies and the Honey Pot--"Pleasure bought with pain, hurts."

6. I've been thinking about "joy" lately. And what is joy exactly as opposed to being happy or just feeling good. What really provides joy?  Is joy internal?  Can we buy or obtain joy, or is it a result of being satisfied with ourselves and our life?

7. I, for one, will be happy to see August slide into September.

First Light after the Storm

Things are not too bad.


I've seen worse--but I don't see any trees down, yet. The wind is still blowing.




But I was reminded of the line in the movie Apollo 13, where after four tense minutes of reentry the cap-com controller continues to make the calls to the spacecraft fully believing that all hope was lost. And the crew responded-- "Yes, we are here!"

We are here, too.

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Location:Rainbow Dr,Elkridge,United States

Waiting for the Dawn after Irene

The wind is still roaring outside and the rain is falling, The sump pump comes on every 15 or so minutes to keep the lower level dry.

It is dark--I am waiting for the dawn so I can begin to assess the damage and to begin the clean-up after the storm.

Makayla is here with me on the sofa--with each renewed gust of wind we check the windows to see what is happening, but we cannot see outside, yet.

I have grown weary of the constant hurricane storm reporting that the local news channels are providing. How many times do I really need to see people standing in the wind and rain telling me not to go outside. Duh!

Why are they outside?

I saw one reporter yesterday trying to hang onto the railing behind him because the storm was blowing so hard. Go inside!

Although sunrise is still about 30 minutes away, I am beginning to see the initial reflections of light as the dawn attempts to break through the storm.

I am afraid to look--I expect debris, water, and probably downed branches to cover the yard and fill the pool.

Church was already canceled for today, due to the weather. Smart move on their part.

But--as I hear the wind howl, I know the storm is not over, but there will be so much to do.


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Between the White Lines

I was asked a question the other day about the reference to between the white lines which I have on my masthead.

I thought it an funny question, because the reference seems so obvious to me--but upon reflection, I guess it may be a generational issue which created the question.

Roads have been a part of my life for my whole life. I am getting older--I still remember when yield signs were yellow with black letters.

The reference then, is to a highway. The white lines mark the edges of the road. On rural highways, there are no lines in the center of the road to mark lanes--it is just a ribbon of blacktop with two white lines. Drive between the lines.

Those who really know me, know that I am a country boy at heart. So I remember those roads.

When we lived in Germany, there was a back road I used to drive from the place I worked to the small base, Neubrueke, where we lived. It had white lines on the sides and one night, on my way home, I was driving a bit too fast and my old car, the only Mercedes I ever owned, slid off the road into the ditch while rounding a curve. I failed to keep the car between the white lines.

Finally, there is a Garth Brooks song: Much too Young (To Feel This Damn Old). There is a reference in the chorus of the song to a white line getting longer which I believe is a reference to the times before the roads were marked with yellow lines in the center. I remember when roads used to be marked with only white lines--the sides and the center.

And the white line's getting longer and the saddle's getting cold
I'm much too young to feel this damn old
All my cards are on the table with no ace left in the hole
And I'm much too young to feel this damn old

And so, there you have it. My white lines. I can still see that old green Mercedes off the road in the ditch. Fortunately it did not roll, but it should have.

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