• Blog

    Victorious Car Show!

    On Saturday, I headed over to an anual car show at Victory Baptist Church in Easley, South Carolina. They had a great turnout and it was a great show. I think everyone won something and had a great time.

  • Blog

    You’d have thought I’d Won the Lottery

    It was a normal time after work. I get off of work early in the afternoon but go in before dawn. One of the running lights for the ’66 VW Beetle was out. This, in and of itself, is not a big deal, but because of the way the beetle is wired, the bulb being out caused the running light in the tail light to be out as well. Or, so I thought.

    So, with an empty stomach and some built up angst, I headed to my local auto parts store. I handed the young lady at the front desk the old bulb. She squinted and asked, “Is this for a Flashlight?”.

    “Would I be coming to an auto parts store to look for a flashlight bulb?” I asked with angst.

    “Well, sir, you never know what people are looking for”, she replied in a snarky tone.

    She was actually very helpful once we got past my impatience for stupidity and her temper. She got me the right bulb and I was off again.

    I came back home, installed the bulb , turned on the running lights. The passenger side worked, but yet again, the drivers side was still out, front and back! I was livid. I had installed new H4 Halogen lights with LED turn signals on Friday. That is when all of this started. Then, as if God himself was speaking to me, “The lights are fused left and right, dummy”.

    Perhaps when wiring up the new lights on Friday, I had inadvertently crossed a wire, causing a fuse to blow? So, I started checking the fuses, one by one. There are only 8 torpedo fuses, so it didn’t take long to find the culprit. There it was, staring me in the face. All of my worries in a simplistic piece of copper wrapped around a ceramic base.

    I steadfastly looked around for another fuse to no avail. I’ll just run up to the store and get another one, I thought whilst jumping into my truck and heading back up to the auto parts store. I went in the door and was greeted with and smile, and a question, “You’re back?”

    “Just hunting a fuse. I will be out of your hair in no time.” I replied, as I made my way towards the fuses. I looked all over for the Bosch style fuses. They didn’t have any out, so I asked my new best friend. She looked and looked. They couldn’t even order them. It’s an effing fuse, I thought, as I left.

    After that major waste of time, I called another auto parts store and the clerk had no clue what I was talking about and told me to call someone else. So, in a last ditch effort, I called O’Reilly’s not expecting a different result. The young lad on the other end had no clue what I was talking about, but he said, “Let me Google this, so that I can see what you’re talking about”. I knew that I had someone I could work with!

    The lad came back after way too long listening to 80’s elevator music. “I have 8AMP, 16AMP, and 25AMP”. I felt at this point that I had already won the lottery. The kid actually knew what I was talking about! But, I was trying to withhold my excitement, because he could be mistaken. I told him I would be right over there to pick them up.

    It took forever during the worst traffic of the day to get there, but as soon as I got parked, I headed in and found the redheaded lad I’d been talking to over the phone. He took me straight over to the fuses, and there in their glowing glory were the fuses I had been looking for for what seem like hours. He rang me up for several packs of fuses. I ran out and did the victory dance in the parking lot.

    The literal hell a man has to go through to get a fuse. I came home, installed the missing fuse, and it works perfectly. The moral of the story is to trust the Irish. It took a redhead lad at “O’Reilly’s” to get me what I needed. Also, have faith. 🙂

  • Blog,  Writing

    A Right to Life

    In 2015 the CDC reported that 188 out of every 1000 live births were aborted/terminated. There are 49 reporting areas (the District of Columbia [DC]; New York City; and 47 states, [excluding California, Maryland, and New Hampshire]. If California, Maryland, and New Hampshire reported to the CDC, the number could be much higher. Think about it. Almost 20% of all pregnancies in the United States are terminated.

    The unborn child is murdered. That’s what has to happen. Whether you believe that it is a child at the point of conception or a clump of cells, it’s still murder! Do you understand partial birth abortions? Do you understand what they they do to the child that is partially out of it’s mothers womb? Look it up!

    If you murder someone in a western nation, you have a right to a defense lawyer. In the United States and other western nations, if you cannot afford a lawyer, one will be appointed to you by the state. The unborn do not have a lawyer! The state affords them nothing! They have no rights in modern society!

    What if one of the estimated 20-50 million aborted babes could’ve grown up and discovered a cure for cancer? My best friend growing up had epilepsy and several other issues. When he was a baby, the doctors told his young parents that he wouldn’t ever be able to do anything on his own and would be a drain on them and society.

    His parents put him up for adoption in 1968, before the era of Roe v. Wade, and a loving couple, the husband a veteran, adopted him and another young boy. From the second grade until his death in 2001, he was my best friend. He married and divorced twice, worked every single day he could, and he lived on his own.

    He contributed to society; in fact, society changed because of him. My life was forever changed because of him. He had bad seizures and had learning disabilities but was absolutely brilliant with numbers, a savant, really.

    He could memorize books like a robot. I, still to this day, have not met anyone that could recite literature from any page in a book like he could do.

    If his parents could’ve had him aborted, the world would be a lot dimmer today. He, along with my own family, taught me that I could do anything and to never use a disability as a crutch. Ne never did!

    On February 4th, Senator Ben Sasse(R., Neb.), called for unanimous consent to put S.311 (A bill to amend title 18, United States Code, to prohibit a health care practitioner from failing to exercise the proper degree of care in the case of a child who survives an abortion or attempted abortion.) on the floor of the Senate, but the only democrat on the floor that evening objected to the bill. Per rule 14 of Senate rules, it was read for a second time on February 5th, but it has been pushed further up the Senate calendar. Senator Sasse introduced this bill or a similar one in 2017. All it does is protect the life of the child if it SURVIVES the abortion attempt. Medical practitioners at abortion clinics, doctors offices, or hospitals would be legally bound to provide the child all the rights and privileges that we all take for granted every day. It is a sad day in America, when we have to legally make people do what is morally and ethically right!

    45 Senators, all Republican, have cosponsored this bill, yet not one democrat has bothered to cosponsor it. I would be shocked if they did! Why would they? Even the decent democrats are worried about their voter base and the implications of voting on such a bill. If the democrats would spend more time explaining to their constituents the meaning behind such bills and how it is not at all anti abortion, but anti murder after birth.

    As it stands now in several states, if a baby survives a botched abortion, he or she is left to die…alone with no attempt to assist in the viability of the child. That’s what this bill protects. It ensures that if a baby does indeed survive a botched abortion, everyone involved must take whatever measures necessary to ensure the babies survival from that point forward.

    If you were in a car wreck and your heart stopped due to impact on your chest, would you not want the emergency medical team to use measures to bring you back to life? The unborn have no voice. Will you not stand for them? Will you not be their lawyer? Will you not stand in defense of them and their right to life? I will! At the very least, you could take five minutes and call your Senator and ask them to support this bill.

    If you’ve made it this far, let me ask you to please read one verse, Jeremiah 1:5, “Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, before you were born I set you apart; I appointed you as a prophet to the nations.”. (In this verse the LORD is talking to Jeremiah, but if you believe in God at all, you can surely understand from this one verse that God did indeed know Jeremiah before he was formed, as he did you and the millions of babies that have been aborted by nefarious means.

    If you have something to say and don’t want to say it publicly, you can use the Contact page to get in touch with me. Thank you for reading this post. May we all speak for those who cannot speak and stand for those that cannot stand.

    May we all speak for those who cannot speak and stand for those that cannot stand.
  • Blog,  Writing

    Perfect Storm

    Imagine yourself the captain of a boat with a group of friends and family.  You are caught out in a torrential storm of epic proportions.  You’ve never seen anything like it in all of your years sailing amongst the waves.  Amid the midst, rain, hail, and confusion, you see a titanic wave that you know will surely swallow your small boat and crew whole and push you to the deepest depths of the seaa where the souls of sailors of yore reside.

    Everyone on the boat screams that you should turn the boat around at full throttle and try to outrun the wave.  Your own weary mind starts playing the odds of whether you’d survive or not.  Everyone on board begs you to turn around before it is too late.

    But, your heart, soul, and every fibre of your being tells you to go full throttle straight into the waive and crest its top before it collapses on your small ship.  Your family and friends begin to pull you away from the captains next, but you manage to fight them off.  You look straight into the depths of the unforgiving wall that approaches like a lioness, quiet but deadly.

    It is here that start the steadfast approach begins.  The banging on the captains nest doors and screams do not distract your unending stare.  It’s you against the wave.  You know it is too late to turn around.  You know in your heart that the only way to overcome this wave is to go over it.

    There will be times in your life when only you will know what is best for you.  Friends and family, though meaning well, will not always know what is right for you.  Use their wisdom to help guide your way, but make your own decisions and  carve your own path on this crazy planet.

  • Blog,  Poetry,  Writing

    Is the grass always greener?

    We tend to think, especially when we are young, that the grass is always greener on the other side of the fence. An idiotic idiom, aye? The truth is that the grass is rarely greener. Whether it be relationships, jobs, or locations on this crazy rock we call home, the next person, job, or locale is rarely better than the last.

    Let’s discuss careers. I was in a job that was incredibly dangerous. The pay was decent, but I worked crazy hours. I never knew when I’d get off of work. It had its positives, but the money, although good, wasn’t good enough to counter the risk. The job I have now is consistent. I work the same hours every week, but the money is laughable. I go into work before dawn, but I get off at the same time every afternoon. It definitely has its positives, but like anything in our lives, it has its negatives as well.

    Let us now discuss locations. Since I was a wee lad, I dreamt of a mistical land, called Hibernia. I read every book I could find on this phantasmal  island on the edge of Europe. I read of myths and legends of yore. As I got older, I read of rebels, rebellions, and political and religious upheaval. I still love Ireland and will love it until the day I die, but I am not Irish. Genetically speaking, yes, I am majority Irish, but what is it to be genetically Irish or Irish at all? A question for another day, perhaps?

    Now, let’s discuss the elephant in the room. Perhaps you didn’t pick up on it, but I placed relationships first for a reason. My heart is heavy. I’m sitting in my office with a hot cuppa Earl Grey. The sun is setting below a layer of ashen clouds as blackbirds fight for the scraps of summer. They know, as I do, that mother winter is near.

    When we are young men and women, we tend to jump from one relationship to another like we’re playing hot potato or musical chairs. It’s hilarious, really, but it is how we learn what we like and what we don’t. As we get older, we grow as people and we hopefully gain a wee bit of wisdom along the way. Some people never learn.

    I can, of courser, only speak from my own male perspective, so I’m going to stick to that instead of wrongly giving examples for both sides. In my younger days, I’d be with my girlfriend and see another woman with a bigger butt, longer legs, or red hair, and think that I needed that woman. I’ve always been a sucker for a redhead. It’s in my DNA. As I found out the hard way, that other woman with a different physical attribute or a better personality wasn’t always better. Sometimes, I’d wish later on that I’d stayed with the woman I had been with.

    These are things that we should learn in our teens. The grass is not always greener on the other side of the fence. That new job is not always better. That magical place that you think you can run away to will not solve your problems. Your problems follow you wherever you go. Face them and keep moving. Life will knock you on your arse. Get up, dust yerself off, and keep moving.

    The girlfriend and I are going through a bit of a rough patch. That would be putting it mildly, but I’ll refrain from airing our laundry in public. I met a friend for supper the other night that I’ve known for about a year. I needed a night out. She obliged. I had no other intent except to talk and catch up. I am an honourable man. At least I like to think I am. Nothing happened between us. In fact, I spent a lot of the evening talking about my little lady.

    There’s only one woman that is my heaven on earth and my Oppenheimer. The woman terrifies me. She could destroy me with a sentence or raise me to the highest mountain with a word. She’s as bold as brass but fragile as glass. I’d travel to the end of the earth for that woman. There’s a lot going on in my life, but the first thing I think about in the morning and the last thing on my mind as I fall off to sleep is her. In some ways, she is my world. That’s something you have to be careful about. You can lose yourself in a relationship. No one wants to date themselves. A subject for another day, perhaps?  I’ll leave you with a wee poem.  Until tomorrow?  🙂


    Eyes that sparkle with brilliance,
    like brilliant diamonds carved
    from the purest of azure seas.

    Dazed by your light,
    I staggered into the shade
    to admire your exquisiteness.

    Now, in the darkness,
    I relaise what is absent
    from my existence, you.

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