So long ago. Was it in a dream?

Twenty-five years ago today, a disturbed and forgettable man took the life of John Lennon, my favorite Beatle. I was in college and very "into" the Beatle's White Album and John and Yoko's latest release, "Double Fantasy". My friends, Greg and Chuck, and I knew all the words to songs like "Starting Over" and "Woman". And we were joyously amused at the zany lyrics and strange utterings of Yoko's songs "Kiss Kiss Kiss" and "Walking on Thin Ice". I remember startling a crowd of people gathered at Mazio Pizza's by playing "Kiss Kiss Kiss" on the jukebox, the "B" side of one of the more popular hits, which ends with what sounds like Yoko experiencing the ultimate pleasure response.

How shocked and saddened we were to have this bright, positive, creative spirit suddenly yanked away. I remember Chuck hanging a bedsheet out his dorm window with the words "Give Peace a Chance" emblazoned on it. At our small, church-based college we seemed to be the only few who knew and cared that this mystical creative spirit was gone.

Some 15 years later, I would play "Beautiful Boy (Darling Boy)" for my newborn son Parks, and more fully realize what John had felt for Sean. It only made my admiration for "my favorite Beatle" all the stronger. It's hard to believe that 25 years have passed since that grey New York day. I wonder what the world has missed. What John Lennon would have accomplished in those stolen years?

On Nov. 27, a week ago last Sunday, I happened to be walking along 72th Street in the Upper East Side during a visit to NYC and said to my wife, "You know, I believe John Lennon's apartment was around here somewhere." No sooner had the words left my lips than I looked over at a doorman and noticed "The Dakota" embroidered in gold on his uniform. I was there. Probably inches from the very spot where John Lennon's life came to an end.

Ah! Bowakawa poussé poussé.

Today, may we all "dream dream away."

Happy Birthday, Parks

Ten years ago yesterday, December 7, 1995, this precious child was given to me. I remember being struck by the fact that I had never loved anyone or anything so much in all of my life. Ten years later, I feel just the same.

I wrote this poem on August 8, 2000, when Parks was 4-1/2 years old:

A bedtime story before tucking you in
Two more chapters from "Charlotte's Web"
I stand to leave and bend for a kiss
Which you wipe away with the back of your hand
You say something cute — probably learned from TV —
I now can't recall to retell or recite
And I worry this is how your childhood will be
Too quickly gone by, too soon wiped away.

Good-bye to the little boy I have loved so dearly. And happy birthday to the young man you are growing to be. I love you, Parks. More than I ever thought possible.

Dad

Holiday Tree Lighting at Lincoln Center

Took in this fantastic (and free) event with incredible, world-class entertainment from members of the Metropolitan Opera, NYC Ballet Company, an acrobat and a Jewish folk music group. Then free food tastings and sidewalk entertainers all up and down Broadway to Columbus Circle. Only in New York!

Elmwood Angel

Lisa Jo took this picture with her cell phone at the Elmwood Cemetary in Memphis (before we left for NYC). I saw it and just had to post it because I thought it was so beautiful.

Times Square

The view on our first night in NYC, walking down Seventh Avenue from our hotel near 54th Street. Ah, city life!

New York Deli

Late night dinner at Park Cafe across the street from our hotel. Parks enjoying a hot chocolate New York-style.

Da da da dum. Click click. Da da da dum. Click click.

They're creepy and they're kooky,
Mysterious and spooky,
They're all together ooky,
The Per-due Family.

Their house is a museum
Where people come to see 'em
They really are a scream
The Per-due Family.

So get a witches shawl on
A broomstick you can crawl on
We're gonna pay a call on
The Per-due Family.

(Neat)

(Sweet)

(Petite)

(That's me!)

Jay needs...

Okay, have you heard about this neat little trick? Go to Google.com and enter "(your name) needs" and then list the top ten results. I entered "Jay needs" and found out that:

1. Jay needs snow.


2. Jay needs your votes.


3. Jay needs help!


4. Jay needs a home where he is the only child or the other siblings are male.


5. Jay needs a girl and quick!


6. Jay needs more information on filter strips and how effective they would be on his farm.


7. Jay needs advice.


8. Jay needs someone to touch his hand before he can proceed through an automatic door at the supermarket.


9. Jay needs a project chair.


10. Jay needs your help again.

Try it yourself and let me know how accurately the results describe your needs.

Fresh Air! Times Square! Ah, City Life!

You know something is amiss when New York City smells GOOD. Residents from the southern tip of Manhattan to the Upper West Side called authorities to report a strong odor Thursday night that most compared to maple syrup with waffles or pancakes.

I don't make this stuff up. Read it for yourself.

Green Bird of Happiness?

Yesterday morning while playing fetch with Gromit in our backyard, I spotted a bird much like the one pictured here -- a Quaker Parakeet, if I'm not mistaken. I didn't see him until he flew up from the ground to the low branches of a dogwood tree. A flash of pale green, he caught my eye and I walked closer to the dogwood to make sure I hadn't imagined him. Sure enough, there he was. Then he flew from the dogwood to a tangled mass of Japanese privet in the northwestern most corner of the yard. It was then that I began calling to him, talking to him, beckoning him. Gromit was pretty much oblivious to the beautiful bird overhead, but continued running around spastically in the cold morning grass.

Then the parakeet flew from the privet across the width of the yard and landed on the ground near our jasmine-covered gazebo. I walked over to him and he allowed me to get as close as six or seven feet before he would briskly walk away from me. I walked this way, with him leading me while I sweet-talked him around a full circle back to the western edge of the yard. I guess I was too brash, not slow or patient enough because at that point he got spooked and flew up to the branches of a nearby tree.

I quickly went into the house to get Lisa and my son, Parks, to tell them the amazing thing I'd found in our yard. When the three of us returned, it took a few seconds before I located him again. He had flown to the lowest branch in a small oak tree at the northen-most edge of the yard, just inside the fence separating our property from the tree and scrub-filled railroad easement.

We must have scared him, the sight of the three of us plus a hyperactive Dachshund puppy. He flew from the oak tree in our yard into the mass of trees and undergrowth along the railroad track and disappeared.

That was about 36 hours ago and I haven't spotted him again. And believe me, I've tried. I've spent the better part of yesterday and today gazing out the back windows of the guesthouse studio, hoping for a small flash of green. I've probably walked around the backyard whistling for him, calling him ("Birdie num num" or simply "Birdie") a dozen times. The Mexican construction workers in the in-fill development next door must think I'm loco.

I worry about that bird. I want to find that bird. Temperatures were around 40 last night and will get down to about 35 degrees tonight. He would make a great pet for the office, safely separated from the dog and cat. I would name him "Princeton" or "Num Num." He would make me happy.

But I must find him. And capture him. Bird seed in a bowl on the back porch. A large beach towel to toss over him and subdue him. But first I must see him. I must at least know he's there.

Then I wonder: If this beautiful bird is gone forever, never to be seen by me again. Why did I see him in the first place? Why that morning was I out in the backyard at the crack of dawn? Why did I follow that flash of green? If only I had never seen it, I wouldn't be longing for this silly, beautiful bird. I wouldn't be walking around my backyard tonight with a flashlight and a beach towel and a bird call. I wouldn't even know what a Quaker Parakeet was. But I do. And I am. And I know I'll be whistling and calling for him in my backyard tomorrow morning.

Work Your Fingers to the Bone...

What do you get? Boney fingers! This little animation perfectly sums up the way I'm feeling this week. I just simply can not get caught up. Just went through a foot-high pile of unopened mail. (No kidding.) And put more than two-thirds of it through the paper shredder. Cleared the debris from my desk until there was simply no denying the fact that what I was really doing was procrastinating on a project I really MUST get done. There's one thing that can be said about procrastination: Putting something off for a while sure helps you sort the truly important from the merely urgent.

Anyway, back to the grindstone...

Top 10 Positives for October

1. William Blake Burns is born into this world Oct. 10.


2. God is moved by the prayers of dozens, perhaps hundreds, on Will's behalf.


3. Will undergoes successful heart surgery performed by the famous Dr. Bove at the University of Michigan in Ann Arbor.


4. Relief trip to hurricane-stricken Mississippi Gulf Coast results in life-changing experience -- for me!


5. Filled in for Parks' regular Webelos Den Leader. Den meeting activities including science experiments related to Bernoulli's Principle, inertia and air pressure (involving coins, milk bottles, hard-boiled eggs, candles, water and fire) are a huge success.


6. Employee resigns to accept offer from the city's largest ad agency, helping me avoid possibility of a lay-off after losing a major client.


7. First meeting with prospective new client goes swimmingly well! (Can new business be far behind?)


8. First-time project with a new healthcare client wins accolades from "New England Journal of Medicine" rep and others. (Can a follow-up project be just around the bend?)


9. Rediscovered Suzanne Vega who I haven't listened to in easily 7 or 8 years -- thanks Cousin Elvis.
   
10. Discovered life-giving stymulus of Ca Phe Phin Sua Da. (Vietnamese coffee with sweetened condensed milk -- yum!)

Will's Web Site

William Blake Burns (Will) is only nine days old and he's already online. Check out Will's Blog for the latest news and updates on his continuing struggle for life.

Thanks to all for your prayers.

Stay strong.

Potty Prayers

Until yesterday, I had never told anyone this. But I revealed it to my wife, and to my surprise she didn't react with ridicule. My revelation? When I'm "doing my business", sitting on the john, rather than reading a magazine or cursing this basest of bodily functions...I pray.

No, not, "Oh, Lord, get this thing OUT OF ME!" or other cries for deliverance, just meditative prayer. Whatever's on my mind. Usually just a prayer of submission, a recognition of my lowliness and God's almighty holiness. After all, what other time are we more keenly aware of our humanness?

And if you think about it, submission is what it's all about. Our highest purpose is to submit. Read the Lord's Prayer -- "Give us this day our daily bread. Lead us not into temptation. Deliver us from evil." -- it's all a prayer of submission. It's not up to us. It's all up to God.

When the apostle Paul prayed to God for his "thorn in the flesh" to be removed, he was told: "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."

Forget the jokes about the "spirit moving me", etc. etc.

When I'm sitting on the toilet, reminded of my humanness, reminded of everyone's humanness, I am also reminded that I am not a physical being trying to make my way to a spiritual place; I am a spiritual being making my way through a physical world.

And so I delight in my weaknesses, in my hardships, in my difficulties -- yes, even in my moments of undeniable humanity, even then.

Now to get a little fiber in my diet so that I can maintain my regularity!

Praying for God's Will

My nephew Josh's wife, Stephanie, gave birth on Monday to their first child, William Blake Burns. Will was taken five weeks early by cesarean and, as anticipated, has a number of birth defects including several heart abnormalities, a small cleft palette and a missing kidney. A team of doctors at Vanderbilt Hospital in Nashville (including a cardiologist, a urologist, a pediatric surgeon and a geneticist) assessed his condition. He will need at least three surgeries to repair his hypoplastic left heart syndrome, and the doctors at Vandy have recommended that the first of these surgeries be done at the University of Michigan Medical Center in Ann Arbor.

Will was airlifted to Ann Arbor this morning, and Josh and Steph are following close behind on a commercial flight today. Surgery is scheduled for Monday, after which Will will not be able to travel for 10 days to two weeks. Stephanie plans to stay in Ann Arbor until Will can return home to Nashville. Josh will stay as long as his job will allow --- probably a week.

I am praying for God's will to be done, but I am also praying pleas to affect God's will for Will. I am praying for God to demonstrate his wonderful healing power, for his guiding hand on the doctors attending Will, and for his divine Spirit (the Comforter) to provide Josh and Stephanie with peace and safety during their travels.

I have emailed a church in Ann Arbor and am praying that God will lift up someone who will take Josh, Stephanie and Will under his or her wing since their family cannot be there with them.

When I shared the news of William Blake's birth, a friend of mine at church shared this poem by the better-known Blake and I found it to be incredibly apropos and powerfully moving:

Every morn and every night
Some are born to sweet delight.
Some are born to sweet delight,
Some are born to endless night.
We are led to believe a lie
When we see not through the eye
Which was born in a night to perish in a night,
When the soul slept in beams of light.
God appears, and God is light
To those poor souls who dwell in night,
But does a human form display
To those who dwell in realms of day.


May God's light shine, and may God's will -- his good, pleasing and perfect will -- be done.

Back from the Gulf Coast

The past four days have been amazing! Without a doubt I received more than I was able to give during our trip to the Mississippi Gulf Coast. As expected, the devastation was unbelievable. I didn't get a chance to do any "sight-seeing", but just the neighborhoods that I saw were more than I could comprehend. Every house. Every single house received some sort of damage. And piled in front of every house were all of each household's belongings mixed with powdery remnants of sheetrock and dented appliances. I was also blessed to be in the wonderful company of people from my brother's church, Bartlett Woods Church of Christ, and Great Oaks Church of Christ, both from Bartlett, Tennessee. Teenagers, parents, single adults and seniors, this group of 50-plus Christians were such a family. I often times had trouble figuring which parents went with which teenagers because there was such an air of familial love and interaction.

We camped out at Eastside Church of Christ in Ocean Springs, Miss., sleeping on the floor of the auditorium, classrooms and closets. My brother, Joe, and I arrived late Thursday and staked out the men's baptistry dressing room (just big enough for our two air mattresses). At the close of each day, Ben (Great Oak's youth minister) led the group in sharing "Where did you see Jesus today?" Each person in the room, teenagers and adults alike, told where they had seen Jesus in each other, in the people we were serving, in the very magnitude of this disaster.

I can't count how many times I was moved to tears during this trip. One occasion was as I was talking with the homeowner of a surge-damaged house and a group of teenagers helping to install drywall were loudly laughing in the next room. "Do you hear that?" she asked. "That is joy in my house. I don't know how long it's been since there has been joy in my house."

I am filled to overflowing with gratitude: Thanks to the people who organized this (one of several) relief teams. Thanks to my brothers and sisters from Bartlett Woods and Great Oaks (and my brother, Joe) for welcoming me as one of their own. Thanks Brother Quardrick Brumfield for his rousing sermon Sunday morning. Thanks to Sister Jan for opening her home so that I and others could use her shower. Thanks to God for displaying to me his might and power, his ever-present Spirit and unending faithfulness.

For more photos, download my Katrina Relief Photo Album (PDF 2.15MB).

Heading South

Well, I leave the day after tomorrow for Ocean Springs, Mississippi, along with a Hurricane Katrina relief group my brother's church, Bartlett Woods Church of Christ. I gotta tell you, I'm a bag of mixed emotions. I'm anxious to finally be doing something instead of sitting on my rear end, sending a PayPal donation and feeling bad for these folks. I'm also a bit scared -- about seeing all the devastation, the enormity of it, the smells, the heat, the humidity, the hard labor, the communal showers at the Y. This will all be an unusual, even pivotal experience for me. But I just feel it's something I have to do. I mostly "blame" my brother, Joe. He went to Ocean Springs with this same group last month. I was so proud of him, and so interested in hearing all about it when he returned. He said then that he would be going back -- perhaps more than once or twice. There is just so much that needs to be done.

I think the thing he said that really made me want to join him was the story of this retired man and his wife: He had been an artist of some type, and they had just moved to Ocean Springs a couple of years ago. This was their retirement home, a place near the beach where they were to live out their Golden Years in tranquility. As transplants, they didn't know many people there and didn't have family nearby. After spending a day stripping their house down to the bare concrete foundation and stud frame, my brother's group served the couple dinner at the Ocean Springs Church of Christ. As they were sitting down to eat, the man began to thank my brother and his fellow volunteers. "Before you all got here, we had given up," he said, "We had no hope." And with that he became overcome with emotion. He broke down and cried. His wife cried. My brother cried. Everyone just cried.

So I guess that's what compels me. The idea that I could restore hope to even one person who otherwise would have given up. But I know it won't be me doing the restoration, it will be Spirit of God within me. And isn't that an awesome thought: to be an instrument of God!

"For Christ's love compels us..." (II Corinthians 5:14)

Laundry Lessons

Been meaning to, needing to wash clothes for DAYS. Crammed the washing machine with a bit more than I would normally wash in one load cause I was so behind in doing laundry that things had just piled up. It was a load of mixed colors, to be washed on cold with cold rinse cycle: 3 pairs of cargo shorts (New -- American Eagle sale last spring.) 4 or 5 short-sleeve shirts (a new Gap Hawaiian print shirt, 3 or 4 button-up shirts from the AE sale), a couple of polo-style shirts (one Brooks Brothers, one Izod). A pair of NICE J. Crew button-fly jeans. A long-sleeve trendy-striped button-down shirt.

My first sign that something was wrong? When I opened the dryer door and saw bluish-black smears on the inside of the door. ("Hmmm.") Then I pulled first one shirt and then another and noticed the bluish-black smears on them as well. ("What the--?") Then, like a mad man, I was pulling everything out onto the floor. Everything. Everything had these bluish-black spots and smears on it. Everything.

I looked into the white interior of the dryer. Bluish-black smears EVERYWHERE. The back wall, the white drum, the sticky-out things --- all coated with blue-black smears and streaks.

Then I knew what had happened. I'd left a ballpoint pen in one of the pockets of one of the cargo shorts. Found the pen -- empty, the white barrel smeared with ink stains. And I found Ground Zero -- the pocket of the formerly khaki-colored shorts, a black-blue spot about an inch in diameter soaked from the inside of the shorts to the outside of the pocket.

Everything in that load of laundry is ruined.

Yeah, some of it was a few years old. Some was a year or two old. But a LOT of it was just a few months old. I figure I'm looking at $300 to $400 if I were to replace it all. Fortunately, it the end of the season. Wouldn't be wearing short-sleeve shirts and cargo shorts much longer anyway. But still...

This doesn't even compare, but I think I can empathize a little better with people who lose everything in a flood, a fire or a hurricane. It's all just STUFF. It can be replaced. It was temporal all the time.

Who knew the lessons I would learn in that load of laundry?

Top 10 Positives for September

Like many people, I tend to focus on the negative. You know: Complain, complain, complain. Bitch and moan. I can't tell you how many times I've been asked, "You want some cheese to go with that whine?" So, I thought I would embark on a new tradition (talk about setting oneself up to fail) of accentuating the positive. Well, here goes...

The Top 10 Positive Things for The Month

1. Received $50 rebate from Epson (finally and after sending in the proof of purchase TWICE).


2. Went to a party and saw friends I hadn't seen in a long time.


3. Wrapped up a Web site project started more than 6 months ago (originally planned to launch in July).


4. Led a prayer at church and didn't start by saying, "Let us play" -- a favorite Freudian slip of mine.


5. Scored major brownie points with The Wife by creating a quickie Web site for the church clothing sale.


6. Drove Suzanna to the airport and lent her my carry-on bag for her trip to San Francisco. Got a NEW carry-on bag when a burly, female airport security agent manhandled my bag and broke the handle. (Thanks, Suzanna!)


7. Remembered my parents' 49th wedding anniversary and remembered to call my dad ahead of time and take him shopping for a gift (dozen roses) and a BBQ sandwich.


8. Witnessed several signs of God throughout the horrible aftermath of Hurricane Katrina. (Too many to count.)


9. Adopted Gromit. (See entry below.)


10. Having climbed into our bed in the middle of the night, 3-year old Wren rolls over, throws her arm over me and says, "I love you, Dad."

Welcome Home, Gromit!

Introducing the newest member of the Perdue household:

Gromit, a miniature dachshund adopted from our neighbor, Gracie Neiman, who gave birth to a litter of seven (4 male and 3 female) nine weeks ago.

Here shown in a rare moment when the "bounce has gone out of his bungee."

Katrina's Other Victims

A dogs rests patiently on a rooftop in Biloxi.


Two dogs sit atop a submerged SUV in New Orleans.


Rescuing "Hercules" from a rooftop in East Biloxi.

I thought you fellow animal lovers might be interested in knowing about this relief organization that is helping to pair lost pets with their owners and provide foster homes for pets displaced due to Hurricane Katrina.

http://www.katrinafoundpets.com/

Hmmmm. Maybe we could house a dog or two. Wonder how ShiChi would feel about that?

Wren's First Day of School

When you look at these pictures you can almost hear her doing her imitation of Spongebob Squarepants: "I'm ready! I'm ready! I'm ready!"

For her first day of preschool, Wren insisted on wearing a dress, decided against wearing her hair in pigtails, and sat with her backpack over her shoulders and her sleeping mat in her arms for at least a quarter hour before time to go.

Yes. Life goes on.

And I rejoice.

Look out, Miss Linda! Look out, world!

Things Are Looking Up

As I type this, the bleak situation in New Orleans and the Gulf Coast seems to have come to a turning point. The last of refugees taking shelter in the Superdome have been evacuated, only a few more remain in the god-forsaken NO convention center, and steadily people are being plucked from rooftops and upper floors of flooded buildings by boat and helicopter.

Becky and Rick made it home safely arriving at about 2 am on Friday. We had reserved not one but two rental cars for them in Houston -- just in case. They were able to give one of the two cars to a couple from somewhere in Texas who they had met on the cruise. The man, Rodney, called our house around 10 pm Thursday night (Becky and Rick had given our number as way for us to contact each other). He was calling to see if we had heard from Becky and Rick and to let them know they had made it home safely. He was relieved to hear that they were en route and had just called from near Texarkana to let us know their progress.

No word yet from the Richmonds in Biloxi. Hopefully, they are safe and simply do not have Internet access. We continue to pray for them as they must rebuild their homes and their lives -- assuming they survived.

My brother's brother-in-law, Wayne, has been called up for Air National Guard duty. Originally on a mission to build a "tent city" near Baton Rouge, Wayne spent Tuesday and Wednesday gathering and packing equipment to build a satelite communications center (his thing is telecommunications). When they arrived in Little Rock, they were told their mission had been changed and were told to leave the communications equipment and take a truck loaded with guns and ammo instead. He is now on the streets of New Orleans with a gun over his shoulder. Please keep Wayne and all the guardsmen in your prayers.

We've helped in small ways and will continue to. My brother and sister-in-law took about $500 worth of air mattresses, sheets and pillows to Goodman Oaks Church of Christ where evacuees have been welcomed since before Katrina made landfall. We donated a portable crib to Bellevue Baptist where a shelter is being created in their Grace Family Life Center. We asked what their immediate needs were and were told "men's underwear - LARGE". No problem. Found you can get quite a lot of men's underwear, T-shirts (and women's underwear, too) for $100 at Wal-Mart.

Today, our church is holding a potluck lunch and special worship service open to evacuees/survivors/refugees from the hurricane affected areas. I'm sure -- especially if we sing that song "still my heart will say, blessed by the Lord" -- I will be fighting back the tears.

God is good. All the time.

Still Standing

I saw this reported on CNN and was so excited to find a photograph that I could share with you. This scene is in hisotric Jackson Square in New Orleans, site of the 18th century St. Louis Cathedral. Two massive live oaks were uprooted during Hurricane Katrina and fell across this garden, ripping out a 30-foot section of ornamental iron fence and falling across this marble statue of Jesus. Amid a tangled mass of huge, broken branches and limbs, the only damage to the statue was snapping off the thumb and forefinger of his outstretched hands.

Pretty amazing, isn't He?

"I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world." John 16:33

Our Biloxi Vacation Condo

I found this photograph on the Biloxi Sun-Herald's web site last night. This is Magnolia Garden Townhomes where we vacationed August 4-8. We stayed in the middle of the 3-unit building that's still standing in the background. (The lower level windows and doors appear to be blown/washed out.) We swam in the swimming pool where that car now sits submerged. The owner/operators, Traci Richmond and her husband (who's name I don't remember), lived in a 2-story building that stood between the pool and the building where we stayed. It is completely gone. I've emailed the Richmonds to see if they made it out okay, but so far I have not received a reply. Keep them, and others like them, in your prayers.

Before and After

Sharkhead's Souvenirs, Biloxi Beach -- August 6, 2005


Sharkhead's Souvenirs, Biloxi Beach -- August 20, 2005

The Human Spirit

A man consoling his 10-year old neighbor in Pascagoula, MS, this photograph (shot by William Colgin of The Press-Register) is probably the best image to come out of the Hurricane Katrina devastation. It is my prayer that this becomes a defining image for the compassion, courage and tenacity of the people who faced this horrible tragedy

New Orleans Underwater

Matt's wife Mandy's grandmother and aunt live in the neighborhood above. This is an area of New Orleans flooded after a breach in a canal levee leading from Lake Ponchartrain. Luckily, they evacuated and are safely away from here. It's uncertain when they will be able to return.

Three Weeks Ago

Three weeks ago, we stayed in a condo one block east of this devastated apartment complex.

An oil platform ripped from its mooring in the Gulf of Mexico rests by the shore in Dauphin Island, Ala. Tuesday Aug. 30, 2005 after hurricane Katrina passed through the area.

Three weeks ago, we were collecting sea shells on this beach.



Three weeks ago, we drove across this bridge from Biloxi to Ocean Springs, Miss.



Another view of the Biloxi-Ocean Springs bridge.



A casino completely swept off its moorings...



...and deposited across the highway.



Three weeks ago, these were the landmarks along our drive down scenic Beach Boulevard/Highway 90 in Biloxi.

Going From Bad to Worse

Things in New Orleans seem to be getting uglier by the hour. Hundreds are feared dead. Martial law has been declared in two parishes. Looting is widespread. Conditions are deteriorating in the Superdome shelter -- one person has jumped to their death from an upper level. The Governor of Louisiana says the whole city should be evacuated.

A scripture comes to mind: "You will find trouble in the world but take heart, I have overcome the world." (John 16:33)

I saw a news report earlier: A massive live oak tree fell across a small park or cemetary, and still standing in the middle of the tangle of broken limbs and leaves and branches...a statue of Jesus, unscathed.

Keep the faith.

New Orleans Today

I'm sorry to tell you, Becky and Rick. But this is where you car is parked. Come on home and file an insurance claim.

The Katrina Aftermath

Sadler's Apartments -- 2 blocks from the condo where we stayed -- completely destroyed along with more than 100 condominiums along Beach Boulevard.

Like many people, we've been keeping a close eye on Hurricane Katrina and the havoc left in her wake. Having just returned from a vacation in Biloxi/Gulfport, we've spotted many familiar landmarks on the news that are now obliterated. The famous Biloxi lighthouse, once surrounded by light poles, traffic signals and trees, is now the only thing still standing in that spot in the middle of Highway 90/Beach Boulevard. The new Hard Rock Cafe, with its "world's largest" guitar/sign, was set to open next month and will now have to be completely rebuilt.

But the worst news from Biloxi that I've seen so far is a report of 30 people dead in the St. Charles Apartment complex. St. Charles street is just one block west of the Magnolia Gardens condos where we stayed at the corner of St. George and Beach Blvd. It just makes it all hit close to home. I can see those apartments, see those people who were hanging out on their balconies just a couple of weeks ago.

We've also been watching closely for news from LJ's sister and brother-in-law, Becky and Rick. They drove to New Orleans last Friday and set sail Saturday afternoon on a 4-day Carnival Cruise to Cozumel. Becky called last night (collect from a phone on the ship) to tell us that the ship is being re-routed to Galveston where they are being asked to debark and find transportation home from there. Becky asked us to help locate a rental car in Galveston -- something we're finding to be perhaps impossible. And the question now is: Can they travel from Galveston back to New Orleans to retrieve their car? Will New Orleans be accessbile for driving by Friday? Will their car even still be there? I'm beginning to think they should simply drive (or take a bus) from Galveston back home and plan on being without their car for weeks if not months.


This demolished Dairy Queen in Gulfport sits across Beach Boulevard from a Mexican restaurant where we ate.


A sad image taken on Beach Boulevard in Biloxi.

Praying for the innocent victims:


Ninety-year old woman taking shelter in the Louisiana Superdome.


A family rescued from their flooded home in New Orleans.


A deer rests on the shoulder next to flooding along Interstate 10 at the Mississippi state line.

Welcome, Cousin Elvis

I heard a stat the other day, that there are now more than 14 million Web logs (blogs) on the Internet and a new blog is added about every 20 seconds. Well, welcome the latest: Cousin Elvis, the blog of my dearest friend, Greg. This guy is one of a kind. Comedian, singer, writer, poet, performer, actor, recuiter, father and friend -- this is the guy who's pictured next to the definition of all around good guy. (The blog name "Renaissance Man" must have been taken.)

I will be very interested in see what's on his mind.

Blog on, Greg.

Pictured: Greg and Bill at The Museum of Automobiles in Morrilton, Arkanasas.

Alma Mater, The Follow-up

I'm chagrined. The HU Director of Career Counseling and Placement (whose name I'll keep out of this) courteously gave me a phone call just now. She said that she truly did not mean to offend anyone by refusing to post the Second Presbyterian graphic designer job, but went on to explain how she's between a rock and a hard place. Seems this isn't the first time someone's complained about the new CareerNet Web site. She cited an incident when a position at a Church of Christ was posted on the site and Harding was "blasted" by at least one individual because the church was "liberal". So, she knows that a posting for a position at a Presbyterian church would raise someone's ire.

I had to tell her, she's in a tough position. But she said herself, you can not please everyone. To which I suggested they do what is right in the eyes of the Lord, and then defend that policy to whoever might complain -- using the truth as their defense.

The bottomline: They will NOT post the Second Pres job listing, but she planned to call my friend and spread news of the junior graphic design position via word of mouth.

All I can do is wish her good luck, thank God I'm not in her position, and pray maranatha -- Lord, come quickly. At least I tried...

Hell, Alma Mater!

So, I get this email from my Harding University classmate (who now works as a professor for the school) letting me know about the HU placement office's new CareerNet Web Site where Harding graduates/alumni and employers can connect. Right away, I forward the email to my friend and client who heads up the in-house communications staff for Second Presbyterian Church here in Memphis, knowing that she's seeking to hire a junior-level graphic designer.

Here's the response she received from Harding's Director of Career Counseling and Placement:

Thank you for your interest in posting jobs on our CareerNet website. I just wanted to let you know that Harding University is affiliated with the Church of Christ and a vast majority of our students are members. I don’t believe it would be beneficial for you to place job postings on our website for that reason.

Can you believe that! Not beneficial? To whom? The feeble Harding graduate who might *gasp* be "converted" to Presbyterianism?

I was shocked, appalled, embarrassed and irrate. It NEVER crossed my mind that Harding would have a problem with a non-Church-of-Christ church seeking to hire one of its alumni.

I fired off an email to said Director, saying her actions were "a poor reflection on the Church of Christ, a personal embarrassment to me, and a disservice to the very Harding graduates you profess to serve." I asked her to reconsider her decision and to consider apologizing to my friend.

That was 2 days ago, and I haven't received a response.

Well, I thought my beef with this was bad, until I heard about a ruckus going on regarding their invitation of Ann Coulter to speak. Under the circumstances, I guess a letter to the administration would probably get lost in the frey.

FedEx Furniture Makes FedEx Furious

Check out this story on WIRED about a guy who makes "ghetto style" furniture using free FedEx packaging! Only FedEx isn't laughing. Their heavyweight lawyers have sent him a nice little "cease and desist" letter. This will be interesting to watch...

House Numbers

What's up with all the addresses? On this house in our neighborhood, there are six -- count them -- six different house numbers: (1) on a sign in the yard, (2) on the mailbox, (3) over the front porch, (4) on the front door, (5) painted on the side of a tree, and (6) over the garage door. Think maybe he's had a problem receiving mail? In the words of The Great Jim Morrison, "People are strange."

Seven-Year Eyes

In honor of Parks's first day of school, here's something I wrote a couple of years ago:

Discoverer.
Adventurer.
Seer of things unseen.
To seven-year eyes
The world is new,
Exciting and clean.
Oh, what a gift
To catch a glimpse
Of life through seven-year eyes.
I, too, with you
We're discoverers,
Adventurers and spies.

Riding in Handbaskets

My wife and I have a favorite T-shirt saying: "Where are we going? And what are we doing in this handbasket?"

It's one of those things that's funny because of the kernel of truth behind it, and we often find ourselves repeating this punchline when faced with the "news of the day" which can be warped and mind-boggling and frightening.

For too long now, I've pessimistically estimated that our good country wouldn't survive more than another 50 years -- tops. And in recent years, I've trimmed that timeline down to as low as 20 years -- depending on the latest, aforementioned "news of the day".

But really: Can the U.S. survive at our present rate? Does a democracy function when the good of society, the majority rule, is sacrificed for the "rights of the individual". And what if that majority is devoid of morality, decency or whatever you want to call it when people are guided by something beyond themselves, something greater than themselves, something other than themselves?

Okay, enough of that. I don't want to think about it, much less rant about it. I want to go back to my complacency, my blissful ignorance. Now, where is that handbasket? Oh, here it is. Weeeeh!

We Are Not Afraid

A great website has been created in response to the acts of terror that have struck London, Madrid, New York and elsewhere around the globe. We're Not Afraid is "a worldwide action for people not willing to be cowed by terrorism and fear-mongering."

Nearly 4,000 images (people, pets, etc., declaring "We are not afraid") have been posted to the site. Check it out. It will amaze and inspire you.

Maybe there's still hope for this planet after all.

Positive News

American Muslim Leaders Issue Fatwa

American Muslim scholars who interpret religious law for their community issued an edict Thursday (July 28) condemning terrorism against civilians in response to the wave of deadly attacks in Britain and other countries.

In the statement, called a fatwa, the 18-member Fiqh Council of North America wrote that people who commit terrorism in the name of Islam were "criminals, not ‘martyrs'."

"There is no justification in Islam for extremism or terrorism," the scholars wrote. "Targeting civilians' life and property through suicide bombings or any other method of attack is haram — or forbidden."

"We pray for the defeat of extremism and terrorism," the scholars wrote. "We pray for the safety and security of our country, the United States, and its people. We pray for the safety and security of all inhabitants of our planet."

ON THE NET:Council on American-Islamic Relations (www.cair-net.org).

Who knew?

Thanks to Mr. Positive for helping spread the news.

I Recommend

Looking for positive, uplifting, inspirational news? Do what I did: Google search the words "positive, uplifting, inspirational news" and you'll come across a web site called PositiveNews.net. From there, I found the blog of fellow blogger, Mr. Positive. Talk about "news you can use." Bookmark Mr. Positive's blog and check it out whenever things are looking bleak.

Across the Universe

Just can't get this John Lennon song out of my head today:

"Jai guru deva om."

Which translates:

"Live forever, Teacher, Heavenly One, Vibration of the Universe."

Be Not Afraid

"The inhabitant or soul of the universe
is never seen; its voice alone is heard.
All we know is that it has a gentle voice,
like a woman, a voice so fine...
that even children cannot become afraid.
And what it says is:
'Be not afraid of the universe.'"
-- from an Inuit teaching

I Used to Write

Here's a poem I wrote after a long hiatus, or dry spell:

I used to write
Down all my deepest thoughts
All my prayers
All my dreams
All the mixed, jumbled things
Rattling about in my head.
And they came out in ordered,
Uniformed lines.
Words, subjects and verbs
Linked into sentences
Like dutiful soldiers
Arrayed in a drill.
I used to write
All the storms
All the gales
Into hushed little breezes
Barely bending the grass.

Weatherman Says "Fart"

Introducing his new "Countdown to Autumn," WREG-TV weatherman Tim Simpson tripped over his tongue and said there are 43 days, 9 minutes until "the official fart of stall." Of course he quickly corrected himself to say the "start of fall." I just had to laugh! Where are the censors when you need them?

If you're interested in the "Fart of Stall," check out Tim's blog and let him know it's okay, we all do it -- just not on the air!

Lisa Jo & Wren with Totoro

"My Neighbor Totoro" is by far one of my family's favorite movies. So of course we were thrilled when the Children's Museum of Memphis hosted a traveling exhibit about Japanese anime and manga, featuring Totoro. There was a replica of the Camphor Tree and even a nearly life-size Cat Bus the kids could climb in.

A side note: Our cat's name is Shi Chi -- short for Shichikokuyama, the name of the hospital where Satsuki and Mei's mother is convalescing.

For all things Totoro, check out: .