Random Thoughts on a Random Friday in April…

(Photo by Nik Shuliahin on Unsplash)

Fridays are for thinking, some deep thoughts, some not so deep, and some just random. Here are some of the random kind, in no particular order or with no rhyme or reason…

    • I may be the hardest working $14-an-hour designer-wannabe in the business.
    • The trouble with clients (members, patrons, customers, etc.) is that they don’t really know what they want, and when you produce what they say they want, they want you to change it.
    • But the trouble with clients (members, patrons, customers, etc.) notwithstanding, they do pay the $14 an hour, so there’s that.
    • Even though René Marie wrote and sang Shelter in Your Arms from a woman’s autobiographical perspective, it resonates with me on so many levels: evocative lyrics, simple, almost melancholy music, and it’s just about perfect for a random Friday afternoon in April.
    • Clarity trumps any awkwardness in the workplace almost every time. Somebody—one of the parties, or both—needs to acknowledge the lingering awkwardness and take the hard step of seeking clarity so that everyone else can get on with some sense of normalcy. Else the mission suffers.
    • Maybe a new gig will take care of that awkwardness by allowing affected people to start fresh somewhere else.
    • Speaking of new gigs, there may be one in your humble writer’s future. No definite job description, no concrete pay package, a few spotty details, but a possibility. Kind of scary for that aforementioned wanna-be.
    • Austin Kleon’s 33 Thoughts on Reading. He first published this list in 2014, but they are still helpful today.
    • And while you’re over there at Austin Kleon’s place, you should also check out his writing advice for artists and visual thinkers.
    • Each day (almost) this year, I’ve found the corresponding daily entries in Thoreau’s Journals, and I’m reading through almost in a “daily devotional” format. Finding some really powerful thoughts (some of the random Friday kind!) and some really mundane twittering. Altogether, I think I see the power of looking and seeing and thinking and recording in a systematic way what you observe. Flashes of greatness often emerge out of daily encounters.

About My Neighbor…

OK, boys and girls…here’s one for you…

Sometimes God has a sense of humor. And sometimes He uses that sense of humor to punch us right in the gut to get our attention. Today was one of those days.

We loaded up our church stuff in the car as usual this morning, and headed out of the driveway. About halfway between our house and the front of our neighborhood, we saw an olive-green car sitting at the bottom of the hill with its flashers on. As we approached to pass by, the driver was opening the door, and sitting with one leg out of the driver’s side.

My first thought was, “I wonder if she needs help?”

My next thoughts, in quick succession, were, “But I’ll be late to church,” “I don’t have time to stop now,” and “I sure hope she’s OK.”

When we got to the entrance of our neighborhood, I stopped at the stop sign. I had to wait for an approaching truck before turning left out on to the street. As the truck turned into my neighborhood, I thought, aloud to the lovely and gracious MrsCharphar, “I guess that guy will stop and help.” And with that, off we went to church.

Here’s where God’s sense of humor and the “ouch” came in.

Today’s message at The Crest was Part 6 of a seven-part series called Upside Down Stories. Throughout the series, we’ve been diving into some of Jesus’s parables. Today’s installment was from Luke 10, and dealt with…

…wait for it…

…wait for it…

…the Good Samaritan.

*Paraphrase of Luke 10: 3031…

“Jesus replied, ‘A woman was going down from her neighborhood to somewhere else in Cherokee County, and her car broke down, leaving her stranded at the bottom of a steep hill. Now by chance the pastor of Stonecrest Church was going down that road, and when he saw her he passed by on the other side.’”

Ouch, indeed.


What I’m Thinking About This Friday Afternoon…


Roberto Trombetta via Compfight

Fridays seem to be the worst and best of times lately.

The worst, because it seems the darkness feels heavier and the hope feels fainter.

But Fridays are often the best, because for whatever reason, my brain often kicks into another gear and I think about more stuff more deeply.  So here’s a rare installation of some the random thoughts that drip out on a typical Friday. Like today…

  • There are racist charlatans on all sides of the political and cultural spectrum, including some I’ve been proud to help along the way.
  • The best thing we can do as advocates for others is to model what we advocate, e.g., if we advocate for people’s health, maybe we should set a healthy example, etc. Extrapolate that out to whatever area of life in which you seek to influence others.
  • The problem with clients is that they really don’t know what they want. So when they tell you what they want – and you do that thing – then they change it. The other problem is that they’re paying the bill so they pretty much are entitled to change it. The other problem is sometimes, they aren’t paying very much on the bill, so it seems a lot like unreasonable expectations.
  • I really need some outdoor time. A good dose of a state park or a beach somewhere might be just what the doctor ordered. Or it might help me avoid the doctor’s inevitable order.
  • The mornings seem to be a blur these days, and I’m not sure why. There’s plenty of interaction with others, and there’s plenty to do. When quitting time comes, though, it appears that the time has whizzed by with no recognizable features.

Design Aesthetics…

The best part of waking up

Rux Hall via Compfight

Simple. Classic. Elegant. Clean. Understated. Timeless. Whimsical. Appropriate. Gracious.

Real Simple (If only there were a similar publication geared toward men).




Bodum. Chemex.

Bill’s khakis. Bass Weejuns (when they were made in Maine). Converse Jack Purcells. Sperry Top-Siders (when they were made in the USA).


Good pencils.

Audrey Hepburn. Grace Kelly. Coco Chanel. Mary Tyler Moore.

Cary Grant. Fred Astaire. Frank Sinatra.

Another Friday Afternoon…

143/365:DiaryCreative Commons License Magic Madzik via Compfight

Afternoons seem to be the worst times, and even more so lately. Especially Fridays. Today in particular, for some reason. So rather than waste a lonely afternoon, I thought I’d try to add to the regular challenge of writing something, anything, in the hope that something good or thoughtful or productive might work its way to the top. Here goes…

  • It’s Saint Patrick’s Day. That means it’s time to wear the traditional color and display the time-honored symbol of Ireland. You know…blue and the harp. You didn’t see that one coming, did you? Well, of course not, because everyone knows the color is supposed to be green – emerald, specifically – and the the symbol is the shamrock. Right? Except, of course, the color most associated with Saint Patrick is blue and the harp is the universal sigil (see Guinness, for instance).
  • Nightnoise is providing the soundtrack for this lonely Friday afternoon of Irishness. Playing right at this moment is the classic At the End of the Evening.
  • And don’t you wish Nightnoise and Windham Hill were still around?
  • From my Moleskine: “Sometimes I feel like I have some of the sensibilities of an artist (substitute creator, designer, whatever floats your boat), but none of the skill.”
  • That Nightnoise album is from 1988. Serendipitously, I watched two movies from that year last night: Working Girl and Big. Iconic and cliché 80s flicks, but still enjoyable, and still a couple of my favorite diversions.

Random Thoughts, 03.12.17…

marielinden4 via Compfight

Some random smatterings from my Moleskine, via my head and my heart and my reading this weekend. No particular order, no particular subject, no particular plan or process, just words, such as they are…

  • Now closer to sixty than fifty, he felt the burden of the years piling up. Everything was the same from day to day. Which is to say, everything seemed pointless-er and hopeless-er every day.
  • It’s quiet, eerie quiet. Restless quiet. Unsettling quiet. Weird quiet.
  • (From Frederick Buechner) “The magic of words is that they have power to do more than convey meaning; not only do they have the power to make things clear, they make things happen.”
  • For me, the real adventure is in creating the adventure, in my head, in my heart, in my words – to tell the story as though it really happened, whether or not it really did.
  • Slowly, deliberately, he fit the pencil neatly into the crease of the book, and slid it away from him on the floor. The pencil and blank lines seemed to take a life of their own, and they were whispering, calling, beckoning him to enter into their world. These inanimate objects now fairly pulsed with life, and they called to him, and at the same time, chastened him, mocking and taunting because he was unable to pick them up, and yet unable to turn away.
  • We’re doing good, but we’re not doing so well.
  • We lost the hour this morning to the dreaded Daylight Saving Time transition, and every time I’ve stopped today, I’ve nodded off. Now, all of a sudden, I have that second wind and I can’t turn off my mind.
  • Twenty more words to three hundred. Now thirteen. Only 211 more to the mythical 500! Now seven.
  • The desire is there, but not the talent or the skill.
  • He whisked the sugar, strong, dark, and sweet, into the scalded milk. The coffee would come later, and the sugary milk was now almost as dark as the coffee itself would be. There really wasn’t enough coffee left in the grinder from two days before, but the grinder was too noisy to use after she had gone to bed. So, he imagined, the dark sweetness of the sugar would make up for the weaker brew. “Not sweet enough,” he thought after the first sip. “Coffee that is neither sweet enough nor strong enough is not fit to drink.”

A Little Ditty About Generosity…

Image: Taylor’s Acre Barn, via Lori Grieg https://flic.kr/p/7mic5V

When you’re in a rut, and down in a dump,
There’s a little trick that will make your heart jump:
Find something to give, and give it away –
You’ll make magic in someone’s day.

Give from your heart, no matter the cost;
You’ll find you’ll gain much more than you’ve lost.
The smile on their face, and the joy in their heart –
These are the generous giver’s art.


And So We Write…

When the words won’t find their way from our hearts to our voices, we write.

When the storms brew and the thunder booms, and we worry once again about the damage the storms may cause, we write.

When the months outlast the money, and we see no path to catching up, we write.

When injustice seems to hide the face of all that is good, great, and beautiful, we write.

When our deepest secrets are too deep for others to handle, we write.

When we lose our way amid the clamor of the ever-hostile and confusing world, we write.

When we don’t know what else to do, or where else to turn, we write.

When we have words that need to get out, but no one who hears, we write.

When we long for someone to listen, but no one cares, we write.

5 Items They Left Off the List of “Things to Do on MLK Day in Atlanta”…

The local rag published a list of Things to Do on MLK Day in Atlanta, but they forgot to include several actual activities. Here’s a snarky, albeit honest list that reminds us of the the real meaning of this holiday, which ostensibly honors the vision and dream of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., but has become an excuse for all kinds of ultra-liberal agenda advancement.

  • Distort Dr. King’s words about light driving out the darkness of hate to deepen the darkness of hate instead of driving it out by love, unity, and brotherhood.
  • Denigrate all those who disagree with you.
  • Blame white folks – especially white men, even those of good will – for all the problems in the whole wide world.
  • Use your civil rights icon status to act like a spoiled brat.
  • Take every opportunity to spew vitriolic hatred toward the President-elect.

So, there you have it. Watch for these actual events while you’re honoring the legacy of a  great American in your own way today.

The Richest Man in Canton, Georgia…

Krakow Matúš Benian via Compfight

(I originally posted this on my Facebook page, November 9. The guy in the picture is NOT the man in this story.)

Oh, I almost forgot to tell you about my other interesting encounter dark and early on election day.

I parked at the Y for the dark and early shift, and I noticed a guy with a walker stumbling through the parking lot. I asked him if he was OK, did he need anything, etc. (Yeah, I’m a sucker like that.)

“Do you have a penny to spare?” he asked. “All I need is a penny.”

“A penny? Why do you need a penny?”

“I want to get a cup of coffee at Hardee’s. Their senior coffee is 35 cents, and all I have is 34. I don’t need anything else right now. I’ve got a place to stay, and I’m gettin’ paid this afternoon. I just need a cup of coffee.”

Well, I didn’t have a penny on me. But I remembered my son had left a boatload of change in the truck ashtray before he handed it up. So I went back, emptied the container, and offered it to the guy.

“I don’t know how much is here,” I said. “But go ahead and take it and get yourself a biscuit while you’re at it.”

He reached into the pile of coins in my hand and plucked out one penny.

“That’s all I need right there,” he said. “God bless you, brother.”