A Wonderful Woman

Well folks, a great woman of God has recently died. I didn't get to know her as much as I would have liked, but she was amazing. I'm only sorry now that I didn't ask her to tea in order for her to share more of her story. She was a southern as they come, and I have to believe that she's sipping tea in Heaven with Jesus, as silly as it might sound. Her obituary says it all:


Maurine S. Thomas (May 12, 1922 - February 12, 2006)

Maurine S. Thomas Maurine S. Thomas, 83, formerly of Anacortes, WA died Sunday, February 12, 2006 in her current hometown of Glendive, Montana. She was born on May 12, 1922 in Macon, Georgia, the daughter of James and Nellie (Parker) Stroup. Maurine married Raymond Tennyson on June 1, 1941 at Jeffersonville, Georgia and soon after, Raymond was killed in action in 1943. Maurine worked for Southern Bell Telephone Company as a switchboard operator, and at the Wheel, and also as a concession operator at Camp Wheeler. She later married Lawrence “Larry” Thomas on July 6, 1945 in Macon, GA. Following Larry’s return from serving his country during World War II, they moved to the Anacortes (Summit Park), WA area. She kept every letter written to her by Larry while he was in WWII. Maurine loved her family and enjoyed going to the bumper car races throughout Eastern Montana to watch her grandsons, Steve and Jeff, race. She especially liked watching her great-grandsons at their many sporting events. It didn’t matter whether it was a basketball game or a wrestling meet “Grandma” was always there cheering Tanner and Trey on. At age 73, Maurine went to school and received her Certified Nurses Association license in the state of Washington. She was very proud of that and kept the license current until the time of her death. Maurine loved to travel and at the “young” age of 83, it was not unusual for her to get into her car at the “spur of the moment” and drive 1100 miles to Anacortes, WA. She traveled many places around the country during the last few years of her life. Maurine enjoyed golfing, supporting different military organizations, and being involved with the youth church group, AWANA. She was a member of the First Baptist Church of Anacortes for over 30 years, a longtime member of Similk Beach Golf Course, and a member of the Gold Star Wives of America for 15 years, serving as President of the NW Region. While serving as their president, she traveled to many of the conventions throughout the United States, her last one being in Orlando, Florida this past summer. She was also a member of the National Association of Retired Federal Employees and AARP. She was preceded in death by her first husband, Raymond; and husband, Larry Thomas; her parents; brothers, James “J.D.” and Emory Stroup; sister, Martha Stroup; and son, William Thomas. She is survived by her daughter and son-in-law, Sandra and Gary Sperline of Fromberg, MT; two grandsons and spouses, Steven and Chelsea Swanson and Jeffery and Heather Swanson, whom all reside in Glendive, MT; five great-grandchildren Tanner, Trey, Kaitlyn, Justin, and Kylie; three sisters, Margaret Tingley of Arlington, WA, Carolyn Rhodes of Abbeville, GA, Laverne Norris of Macon, GA; and one brother, Harold Stroup of Macon, GA. Visitation will be held from 11:30 a.m. – 1:00 p.m., Saturday, February 18, 2006 at the First Baptist Church of Anacortes. A funeral service will follow at 1:00 p.m., Saturday, February 18, 2006 at the First Baptist Church of Anacortes with Pastor Duane Eastman officiating. Arrangements are in the care of Evans Funeral Chapel and Crematory, Anacortes, WA. To share memories of Maurine, please sign the online guest register at www.evanschapel.com.

A Voice of Reason

I thought some of you would enjoy this. I still keep in touch with a wonderful professor from my college days. Though I know he's genuinely excited for me and my music aspirations, it's still good to hear a voice of reason every now and again. I couldn't agree more...

I wonder what heaven will be like--hopefully, not like all this competitive jostling among ourselves to be heard for our songs and dances. Sometimes this (vain?) attempt to stand before our peers to sing, play, dance, scream, get books sold, or whatever (see American Idol, which says it all) is an extreme weariness to the philosophical mind that asks, "What on earth are we really here for, anyway?" Because whatever happens, we're all turning to dust, and before you know it, we'll all be looking back on . . . on what? A life pushing through crowds, looking for an audience, wanting to be heard, making a name, carving out a mark, ad infinitum? What's the point of all this hot pursuit for a moment of fading glory? I honestly don't know, and the people who are probably most dumbfounded by it are the very ones whose last book was not enough, whose last song somebody sang was not enough, or the last Grammy won was not enough.

Human beings seem deeply flawed in depending upon each other for how wonderful they are for what they do. Maybe that's why heaven has no marriage and no relationships between the saints there as we know these relationships now, for there we won't need all this fawning and adulation that comes from our merely human peers; our sole delight and intimacy will derive from God, and our pleasures in whatever we do in heaven will not be tainted by having to sell it to an admiring public. I can't imagine Grammy Awards in heaven, can you? Remember E. Dickinson's poem? Here it is:

I'm Nobody. Are you Nobody too?
Then there's a pair of us.
Don't tell. They'd advertise, you know.
How dreary to be Somebody,
How public, how like a frog
To tell one's name
The livelong June
To an admiring bog!

Please don't take my reflections here to slow you down in your efforts to play some great part on what Shakespeare called a "stage," the globe itself. But just keep in mind how quickly the parts we play are interchangeable (dismally, I should think) with those who came before and those who will come after, all carrying on with the same passion that ends in dust for all. Watch an old movie and check out the credits. Forgotten, all forgotten. In two generations no one can even remember the first names of their great grandparents. We're all forgotten, and yet a good number of mortals (the driven, the possessed) seem compelled to reach that state while killing themselves, "contented least with that which they most enjoy"--Shakespeare, hoping for luck, breaks, and the "big one" to become the "Somebody" of Dickinson's poem, only to discover they could just as easily and perhaps a lot more joyfully reached that state by being a "Nobody." Go figure. Or better yet, consider that God already had it figured when he said that he respects no one for any of the reasons we show respect--homage, sycophancy, and all the other large and small enslavements to hero-worship while wishing we were the hero. At my age, things look much different from when I was younger, and so one finds that life is strangely backwards and upside down, in that the wisdom wanted at the early stage of life seems to elude us until the last stage. But perhaps that's also as it should be, lest death be dreaded more rather than less.

Sorry about all the unsolicited commentary. It's a professional hazard, and I indulge myself. Why, I don't know. I haven't yet met a person whose life has been changed by abstract advice; it seems always to require brutal experience of time that subtracts more than it adds. "Time that gave doth now his gift confound"--Shakespeare again. Well, that doesn't mean blisses are not lavishly thrown about our lives, but it does mean that the journey must be endured with the indignity that the world will take leave of us more than we would wish to take leave of the world. In light of all this, perhaps the truly contented and happy people are those who find the charming simplicity of an idyllic life, unfettered to competition in a 7/24 world completely consumed in work, advancement, and Names. The 'Nobodies." Half our misfortunes and fortunes come from Fortuna's inscrutable Wheel of Fortune. The other half comes from ourselves. So the wonder is why we make such an obsessive-ridden mess of the half we spin. Since happiness has a zero correlation with worldly success, it would seem that the secret of both happiness and success lies in what ambition aims at and what engine drives it. For me, I am becoming ambitious in the sense of hoping I'm lucky enough never to write a book or appear as a soloist with the Pittsburgh Symphony.

Let's continue this conversation in a hundred years, and it will make a lot more sense to both of us.

Cheers and all rich blessings on you.

Florida, Alligators, and Smelly Boys

I was talking to my grandpa the other day and he asked why I don’t have any new blogs posted. The answer: “I’ve been busy.” Of course, busy to me now isn’t like busy the way it was in DC. However, trying to get going with my Real Estate, write music, tend to the house and kids, and so on keeps me trucking.

By the way, before I go any further, I want to publicly congratulate Hannah Woody on her engagement to Matthew. Hannah, you know you are so dear to me, and I cannot wait to celebrate with you on your big day.

Now, let’s get to a story about my trip to sunny Florida. It has always been a desire of mine to see The Everglades (a wonder of the world), and I did. I didn’t anticipate seeing it the way I did, but it was a sight nonetheless. Vern, Dwan’s daddy, took the three “retards” (as he calls them) and me to sight see. The girls and I were crunched in the back seat—one of them with a sour attitude and ADD for a day, and Billy in front passing gas and carrying on. Vern really is “good people,” but boy does he love to talk. Unfortunately, I wasn’t in the mood to talk, as I was too busy trying to spot alligators along Alligator Alley, so I had no other choice but to tell Vern Billy was currently studying about Joseph Stalin and needed some expertise. Needless to say, this kept Vern occupied for the next hour or so. Billy was about to glaze over when Vern said, “Well, I think we overshot our exit.” As it turns out, we overshot our exit by over an hour, so we stopped to eat at a McD’s, and the kids were just bouncing off the walls from being cooped up in the car for so long. I even had to pull Billy aside and lecture him about there being a time and place for acting certain ways (ie: McD’s isn’t the place to sing and pass gas loud enough for everyone to hear it.) Oh boy. Finally, we reached our destination and took our airboat ride, which was great. Then, we hopped back in the car and listened to LOUD old time blue grass for two solid hours on our way back home. The kids were just beside themselves, and frankly, I was just annoyed at them all. I love them, but at times, I just want to send them all to China to work as laborers.

The beach was wonderful, we saw a few movies, we ate good food, and really, the experience was a good one. While we were there, the parents decided to book a cruise to Mexico in March, so that will be our next adventure. The kids and I have to share a room, which we’ve done in the past. I just have one thing to say: boys smell! I usually have to remind Billy that a bath is a GOOD thing and that cologne doesn’t cover up sweat. You see, I didn’t grow up with brothers, so I’m learning so much from living with a teenage boy who is ALL boy! In fact, he’s out on the one of the dirt bikes now and I happened to glance out just when he spun by my car and sprayed it with mud. How nice. He’ll be paying for the carwash…

Hope you are all doing fantastic! Advice for the day (thanks Krisitn): NEVER pet a burning dog!