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Persistent or insane?

As I sit at my desk by the patio door composing a few thoughts to share with you, I am hearing a repetitive thump against the door from the outside. This door has a reflective film applied to the inside to reduce the sun’s glare and to keep my indoor space cooler. It also is mirrored on the outside to provide privacy. Numerous birds have committed suicide flying into the door thinking they are flying into open space or maybe to engage the image of the other bird in the mirror.

The thump is a lizard. Where I live the lizard is as common as the mosquitoes that they feast on. Color it green and we have hundreds of Geico geckos prowling the yard and patio. They provide great entertainment for the cats confined indoors.

This particular lizard has taken a liking to its image or perhaps it is attempting to snare the attention of any nearby female lizards. He jumps from a chair into the glass, falls to the ground, climbs the chair again and leaps into the image on the glass. Again and again and again. Watching him is exhausting yet at the same time inspiring.

Have we ever been like that lizard? In recovery programs we call it insanity. We drank to excess again and again and again, thinking that maybe this time the outcome would be different. Instead of getting wasted, belligerent and violent, we believed that we could drink sociably, drive home safely, engage with our families lovingly, go to bed happily and arise the next morning for work bright-eyed and bushy-tailed. Yeah, guys, that was absolute insanity.

That silly lizard climbs onto the chair, jumps into the mirror for whatever reason his lizard-sized brain is formulating and all he will accomplish is an oversized headache in the morning. Sound familiar?

When was the last time you woke up with an enormous headache trying to remember how you got home last night, where did I park the truck, is my spouse going to serve me eggs or throw them at me when I go to breakfast?

Remembering those times is a blessing, continually living those times is insanity. Where do we stand?

But back to the lizard. The persistence. It is inspiring. We had it when we were pursuing the bottle and now we can apply it to living a fruitful, productive and joyous life with spouses and families. Our Higher Power is awesome.

And Gabby says Amen.

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Introvert! Who, me?

I somehow knew I was different as a young boy when I preferred hiking alone in the nearby woods to playing baseball with the guys. I realized that maybe the term ‘introvert’ fit me when I preferred a night with a good book over a Saturday night socializing with the gang at the local hangout. Yeah, didn’t take much introspection to know that I was following a different drummer in life.

And they, the ‘normal’ people in my life, aside from calling me a wallflower, dull, and uninteresting allowed me to be who I was. My friend’s mother said that I had no personality. In today’s young culture I would have been called a nerd. But I prospered as an introvert. I developed inner strengths, deep personal understanding and a devotion to the quiet things of my world. I learned to study people and tune in to their inner workings. I became the observer at sock hops and in the classroom. I learned first-hand about prejudice and intolerance. Thanks to high school bullies, I knew early in life that some of us were destined to have a difficult row to hoe. It made me stronger and prepared me for the heartaches of being different.

Gosh, the years have passed quickly. And still today, some folks have a need to label who I am. Most often I can take it with a grain of salt. I have learned over my many years to fight back as necessary. That has earned me another label, irascible. Gabby prefers ornery, unpredictable or bull-headed. It confirms his standing with the willy-nilly crowd. And it’s important. If a man fits in with the crowd around him, becomes one of the good ole boys, he hasn’t fully appreciated the nature of autonomy and independence. If he doesn’t learn to assert his right to say yay or nay to the demands put upon him, he will lose the ability to choose what is best for himself. He gives control of his happiness to another person. Perhaps a spouse, a friend, a family member will presume to know what’s right for him.

Once again, I can hear some of you asking, “Gabby, what’s your point?”

Hear me and hear me well. If I choose to embrace a few unhealthy habits that could hasten my earthly demise, then so be it. That is my choice. If I drive too fast or eat too much ice cream, then I will probably die knowing that I have also lived.

If I advocate for the marginalized, the oppressed, the homeless and the other brothers Jesus mentioned in Matthew 25 and when I label myself a Matthew 25 Christian, then I have followed my calling by the entity I label as Higher Power. So there, my judgmental brothers and sisters is a label that I am proud of. Use it!

A few years back y’all didn’t approve of my friendship with a homeless, alcoholic man. I helped him with shelter, food and cash and you chose to see it in vile, ungodly behavior. Well, guess what, sister? That man is sober, living in another state, creating a new life for himself.

Yeah, call me angry if it makes you feel any better, but you can take your smirks and condescension and stuff it in your Bibles or whatever you are reading to justify your intolerance.

As for me, I will rely on the old, reliable, irascible Gabby to find my joy and peace. Brother Gabby is a beacon in a dark sea.

And Gabby says, “Amen, brother.”

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sticks n stones

Yeah, I can still hear my 3rd grade teacher, Mrs. Snyder, belt out in her high pitched teaching voice, “Sticks and stones can break my bones, but words will never hurt me.”

Mrs. Snyder was quite the moralist, had an opinion about everything and her opinion was usually based on her strong religious upbringing. Today, more than ever, I appreciate the tradition of my community and family because it empowered a man to use his God-given brain to choose a proper course for his life.

Well, Mrs. Snyder was wrong. Words can break a man. Words of ridicule, judgement, infidelity, dishonesty, prejudice and hatred can be devastating. Words can diminish a man’s worth in his community. Lies, innuendo, gossip can wipe out in a heartbeat a lifetime of character building and decency. But more significantly, words can destroy relationships.

I smile when someone calls me a liberal, a snowflake or woke. I wave back when someone points a middle finger at me because of the decals on my truck indicating my political choices. And I refuse to engage with people who use their version of God to justify their lies and hatred.

But even Gabby has to draw the line at some point. Do not ever, again I say ever, think it’s OK to call me a godless, communist Democrat and expect our relationship to endure and continue as before. It ain’t gonna happen, bro.

And Gabby says Amen.

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CONVERSATIONS: WORRY

Hey man, we need to talk. No, it’s not anything you have done. I know you by now and I trust that you are too old to get yourself in trouble. I didn’t say wise, I said you’re too old, brother.

You friggin worry too much. You fret about food, shelter, safety, security and money. Now, hear me bro. How old are you? Almost 79, right? Have you ever been without food? Have you ever needed to sleep in the woods? Havre you ever felt threatened or insecure in your environment? Have you ever been absolutely busted, not a penny in your pocket or your bank account? Get honest. I’m right here with you and I know the truth. Been with you for 79 years and I will not abandon you now.

So, what do you worry about? What breaks your peace of mind and serenity? Oh, I see. It’s other people and their behavior. It’s what they say to you, what they say about you, what they think of you. Well, here’s how it is. You don’t control a damn thing about other people. If they want to be assholes, that’s their problem. I will handle that in my own way.

It’s the past. You worry about the things you have done or left undone. It’s the times when you didn’t walk with me and you lived the life of a prodigal. Nothing about your past is a secret, brother. I know it all and I still love you with a passion that is beyond your understanding. Grow up and accept my love and forgiveness.

I can see you squirming with another “yeah, but”. Yeah, but what? What else do you worry about?

OK, so you’re worried about the darkness in this world, about the inhumanity of the world’s political systems, about the elected leaders who abuse their power. Yeah, I agree. The world is a mess. Too many people being murdered, too much greed, too little compassion for the hungry, the homeless, the poor and oppressed. I get it man, I hate it too. Unfortunately, that’s who y’all are. Maybe that’s why you need me.

You needed me 45 years ago to step in and take over your drunken life. You begged and pleaded and finally surrendered to a better way. You came back from your personal darkness, your walk through hell. And together we made a life for you. It wasn’t always easy. There was a lot of pain and heartache, but we did it, didn’t we , brother?

And what did we pray everyday?

“God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I should and the wisdom to know the difference.”

We did it, man. We conquered those demons and found a better way to live. A life of clean and serene. I could not have done it without your surrender and you could not have done it without my love and power.

Together, my brother. We did it together. So quit the worrying. I’m the One in control. Trust me. Haven’t let you down in 79 years.

And Gabby says, “Amen.”

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CONVERSATIONS: BLESSED WITH SHELTER

Brother, listen to me for a second. Got something bothering me.

Remember yesterday when you and your pals from church were sitting on the backyard patio smoking weed? Yeah, I saw you and no, I don’t have a problem with what you were doing. As usual the conversation covered many topics that mature men discuss when together in privacy. Well, almost private. I am there always.

Everything you talked about was pretty cool. The weather, the economy, your wives, your jobs and, and of course, the sexy divorcee who moved in just down the street. All of it chatter I’ve learned to expect from a group of back yard pals.

But then, one of you mentioned Tom from two doors down. He has never been part of your group and you think he’s an odd fellow. An RN at the hospital, Tom is a loner, doesn’t golf with you on Saturdays, doesn’t drive a pickup truck, doesn’t sit with your gang to watch the Super Bowl and claims to be a vegan. And I can understand that in your world a man like Tom is pretty weird. But my understanding stopped there yesterday.

Tom has a homeless friend, a man running a streak of bad luck. He tents in the nearby woods, finds work in the neighborhood doing odd jobs and yard work. Tom helps his friend with food and a listening ear when needed. He offers a warm place to stay when the temperature drops below freezing. I love Tom. He gets me. He walks the talk that y’all hear at church every Sunday when my words from your pastor get an “Amen, brother.”

So, why do you think Tom’s friend is a neighborhood problem? I heard you saying that. Does he threaten you? Does he steal from you? Does he trash your yard? Does he covet your wife? Does he dishonor your God?

Why do you want to wipe out the little camp he has created for himself? Are you offering an alternative? Maybe a hand up to a better situation? Maybe your church could sponsor him. Ever think about that? Food, fresh clothes, a few dollars pocket change can be life-changing for an unhoused man struggling to survive.

I understand your fear. Each of you is just a job loss, a health crisis away from facing the same insecurity that Tom’s friend faces every day.

But as I see it, y’all are judging Tom and his friend. Give it up, bro. That’s my job. Love ya.

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#1 terrorist

So, this is what we have become? Our military along with Israel’s forces have taken to bombing girls’ schools ? Scores of young children murdered. And, Gabby laments, why should we be surprised considering the thousands Israel has murdered in Gaza and the West Bank? America has surrendered its claim as the world’s conscience if America indeed ever could claim that honor.

Gabby, a proud veteran, is ashamed of his country’s direction under the rogue dictator. And to those who would say, “Love it, or leave it,” Gabby will say, “The only reason I am still here is because I do love the country that used to be honorable and distinguished among the world’s nations.” In two short years we have become the world’s most feared terrorist power. Forget about Hamas, Hezbollah, Red Crescent, Taliban, ISIL. Trump and his fear-mongering elite have claimed the dubious title.

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AIN’T SKEERED

Well actually, Gabby is scared. But it’s not Iran that scares him. It wasn’t Iraq years ago. It’s not Russia nor China today. Even North Korea doesn’t keep Gabby awake at night. And the alleged rapists and pillagers crossing the border from Mexico seem to be a figment of the government’s imagination. We have infinitely more native-born rapists and pillagers. Most of the refugees are men, women and children looking to build a new life in America. Immigrants have done that for centuries creating a rich and vibrant society, a melting pot. They also were ostracized upon reaching our shores.

We white folks are being conditioned to look over our shoulder with distrust for brown skins, black skins, any skin other than pale skins. Even further, some Americans are encouraged by that same government to assault and harm those people. Not only skin color, but nationality, lifestyle, and political affiliation make them targets of our increasingly rogue society.

Gabby has abandoned the Pollyanna mindset that America is good. His counterpart, Larry, continues to hold to the innate goodness and equanimity of freedom and liberty for all. But America’s blooming truth speaks of hatred and injustice.

There are necessary questions to ask. What have we become, how did we get here, is there a way back to the welcoming arms of Lady Liberty and the society we were destined to be?

The attack on Iran, despicable as it is, is another downward spiral of a once great nation. It’s a symptom of a government desperately struggling to maintain its economic and political world control, its imperialistic designs. But, in no way does this make America Great Again. It shows our weakness in a world determined to move ahead without us.

No, Iran does not concern Gabby. The current USA government does.

He has told you, mortal one, what is good; And what does the LORD require of you But to do justice, to love kindness, And to walk humbly with your God?
New American Standard Bible Micah 6:8

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P&PI

In today’s world P&PI could mean anything, right? But Gabby’s got a narrow view of today’s world and doesn’t have a need to mince words about anything except supper. Gotta be careful not to insult the cook.

Gabby is screaming WTF!!!! Y’all don’t need to be deep-south crackers to know what WTF means.

Florida Republican introduces bill to rename Palm Beach International …

You’ll never guess the new name. Well, maybe you will if you know the corruption in Florida politics. It’s an appropriate name for a state where Canadians refuse to vacation and live as snowbirds, a state where tourism from abroad has tanked since 2024, a state whose AG, Pam Bondi, dismissed lawsuits against Trump University, a state where pedophilia was the password at Mara-Lago. It’s appropriate for an airport where a majority of Epstein victims were flown to frolic with celebrities and wealth.

Gotta be careful, Gabby. DHS wants to compile a list of bloggers who are critical of political officials and ICE. Well, here it is. My name is Gabby Graywhiskers and I am guilty of criticizing in thought, word and deed the corruption posing as governance in Florida and in the USA.

All together now repeat after Gabby, WTF !!!!!!!

The name proposed by Florida lawmakers, mostly Republicans, is DJT International in honor of a “great leader and statesman”. But some of us have an alternative acronym. PPI. Pelicans and Pedophiles International.

Don’t like it? Well, just slap Gabby’s pelican.

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Proverbs

The book of Proverbs is filled with ancient, timeless wisdom. It advises often about fools and foolishness.

A more contemporary bit of wisdom is attributed to Anthony Weldon’s writing in 1651, THE COURT AND CHARACTER OF KING JAMES.

“Fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, shame on me.”

I can hear you saying, “Gabby, what does that have to do with Biblical wisdom?”

We are also taught, not only in Christian philosophy but in most relevant religions, that our God has blessed us with countless resources of which money is one. Ancient wisdom talks about the evil of money worship and the need to be a good steward of our money and possessions.

You are still asking, “Gabby, where are you going with this?”

For those of you who don’t like to mix your faith with political figures, you may as well turn me off and go read the obits in your newspapers.

Treasury, IRS issue guidance on Trump Accounts established under the Working Families Tax Cuts

There it is folks. Another potential ruse attached to the Trump legacy. Do you recall Trump University, Trump Shuttle, Trump Steaks, Trump Casinos, Trump Vodka, Trump Fragrances, Trump Beer, Trump Magazine, GoTrump.com, a travel booking site. According to ROLLING STONE, at least 13 failures.

All you need to do is transfer your hard earned money to Trump Accounts to fund an IRA for your child’s educational needs. Gabby remembers mandatory transfer of his money to the IRS for his social security account. Yeah, that government program really worked well.

As for me and my household, we will bury our savings in a tin can in the back yard or stuff it under the mattress. Makes just as much sense as Trump Accounts.

“A foole and his money, be soon at debate: which after with sorrow, repents him too late.” Thomas Tusser 16th century English poet and farmer

A fool and his money are soon parted.

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conversations, blessed with food

Hey man, just wanted to talk to you about something that’s been troubling my heart.

Remember yesterday, brother, on your way to the grocery store to buy a few things you needed for dinner? That man standing on the corner holding a sign that said, “Hungry, please help.” Remember what you did, bro?

You rolled down your window. He came to your window with a smile and anticipation. Not at all threatening or demanding. And what did you do? Remember?

You told him to go get a fucking job and gave him the finger.

You didn’t see what he did or hear what he said as you sped on down to your grocery store. He folded his hands over his chest and said, “God bless you, man.”

I saw it and it broke my heart.

Now, what could you have done differently?

Maybe you could have given him that 10 bucks you won in last night’s poker game with the guys. Yeah, a bunch of rowdy, cigar smoking buddies they were, but they’re your friends from the Tuesday night prayer group from the church you attend every Sunday.

Or maybe you could have said, “Jump in, let’s go to Wendy’s and get burgers and fries?” He may have had some interesting stories about his camp in the nearby woods and what he has to do to survive every day.

But you thought he smelled ripe and you didn’t want to stink up your car.

Yeah, I saw it all brother. I was standing next to that man. “Inasmuch as ye have done unto the least of these, my brethren, ye have done unto me.” matthew 26

You didn’t know that man was also a veteran like you. Only he did not come back to the States as blessed as you. No, he suffered deep emotional scars that followed him for the rest of his life. Couldn’t keep a marriage together, couldn’t hold down a decent job, couldn’t maintain a home and ultimately found himself living in a tent in the woods. No, he wasn’t camping, he had no options. Considered suicide but faith in the Lord would not let him do that either. Like I said, no viable options.

He served his country but became a throwaway, broken statistic. And, my brother, he was hungry like you were as you drove to the grocery store. His faith kept him shiny side up in the worst of times, times that most could not endure nor want to survive.

And, he was a Christian like you profess to be. Just alot less lucky in things of the world.

“For I was hungry and ye gave me no meat; I was thirsty and ye gave me no drink; I was a stranger and ye took me not in; naked, and ye clothed me not; sick and in prison and ye visited me not.” matthew 26

And Gabby says, “Amen, Lord, I hear you.”