Cultural Relativism :Two Way Street?

I have been kicking a few ideas around in my head the past few days and am still not exactly sure how to word my question, but this is a crude stab at it.

Is Cultural Relativism a two way street in Christianity?

Thinking on different topics kind of got me wondering if this works two ways, or just one way, from the past to the present, or the present to the past, or both?

For instance, slavery. In the past, we find it all over the place in the Bible. Old Testament and New Testament. It was a cultural norm of its day. Present day, we have concluded, rightly so, that no man has the right to "own" another man, credit card companies and mortgage banks excepted.

We looked at an old institution and decided...no...this is not morally or ethically right, even if it is found and accepted in the Bible. They got it wrong.

Another topic, homicide and genocide. Looking at the Old and New Testament we find examples of homicide and mass genocide of people simply because of their ethnicity, religious practice, ownership of land and all other kinds of reasons. In fact, all the people groups of the Bible participated in killing each other off for all kinds of reasons. The God of the Old Testament really had a thing for the death penalty too. Just about everything could get you stoned!

Now, present day, we have looked at these practices and once again condemned them as unethical and immoral.


Is orientation and sexuality any less important of a human rights issue? The freedom to be an individual, beholden to no man as property, the right to the sanctity of ones own life and the liberty to love and live with the partner of ones choosing. Does this relativism only work one way, from the past to the present? If they were wrong about what was right, couldn't they also be incorrect about what was wrong?

If it is a two way street, then can't we look back at some of these archaic laws and condemnations, accept them for face value without talking semantics, languages, theologies and splitting hairs and just admit...this is another area they got wrong? In fact, it is just yet another area of life that they were completely off the track when it comes to morality and ethics?

I expect to hear from every "side" on this one, but it is a simple question.

Why can we sit on this side of history and admit that they were wrong in some areas, still clinging to the Bible as inerrant (as some do) and then in other areas vehemently deny basic human and civil rights to others and to our own selves, based on the notion that while they may have been wrong in other areas, in the whole guy on guy or girl on girl action AND love, commitment and life...they were irrefutably correct?

 

Daemon

In a World of Men

I've never had a girlfriend. In fact, in my entire life, there has never been one true female friend. I live each day, lost...in a world of men.

Thinking on this as I woke up this morning, my mind went back over the years since childhood. Different pictures and memories of childhood kind of get cram packed in the back of my head, those files rarely thought of and looked through. I think over the earliest things I can recall, and see other boys. Preschool, playing with Legos, eating lunches of fish sticks, bread and butter, apple juice and frozen peas and there is Jeff Burnett. He was kind of a brainy wild guy, crazy curls and glasses already on his little face. So studious at times and yet another little heathen just like me. He went to another school during the day, so that had to make him a few years older, but we were fast friends. Playing outside, jumping off the highest things we could find, burying each other in rocks and always digging in the dirt, building something , destroying something, always coming back inside filthy and worn out for nap time. We were an unstoppable army of two united in our cause of squeezing every bit of fun out of each day.

I went to preschool and summer camp growing up before school. Each day was filled with activities, play time, moments for stories, setting out the big cots for nap time, swimming, playing in the different parks and playgrounds learning our colors, alphabet, simple things. All those days seem to blur into the start of school, but one thing remained constant. In all of those lines we stood in, boys were on the right, girls were on the left. The girls were "other". Not like us. Always apart, to be seen but not actually known.

Kindergarten and grammar school came, always the divide. Summer divided up each year with camp that lasted through all those times of sun, swimming, field trips, playing outside, in the woods, in the creek, for hours on end. Names and faces flash in front of me. I guess I had an idyllic childhood compared to some. I lived with my whole family in the same big house that was always being redecorated and renovated at my parents whims and many of those guys I grew up with followed me all the way to high school graduation. Private school is a strange microcosm of society. The guys I played with in the dirt, the woods and grew up with were a constant. Sure, a few came and went, but the core group of us were together for more than 16 years. Always us guys. We saw each other through from preschool to graduation. I was always surrounded by them and their brothers and families. School was family and family was school. It was there I became known and knew. My friends defined my life.

There were girls at my school. I remember that. Little pretty people, all dressed up, doing those things girls do. I was never sure what they did, or what they were for, but they were always over there to the left. They were always floating over there to the left, kind of on the edge of my vision. The ones I do remember often crossed that line and would play with us rowdy boys, until some well meaning teacher rescued them and put them back on the "correct" gender path. Girls were to be ladies and boys, well us boys were going to be gentlemen someday, but not quite yet. We still had a lot of boy stuff to do. That whole man stuff was for the grown ups. For guys like our dads and older brothers. Those big people.

My first boyfriends name was Ken. Yup...I stole him from Barbie! I am not sure where he came from, maybe my little sister, but he was always naked and I kept him in a wooden box in my closet. I can't quite remember all the stuff we did, but I sure did like him. His lack of a dick always puzzled me, just kind of this weird bulge, but I wasn't too worried about it at the time. He was kind of quiet, but he was a good guy. Then along came G. I. Joe and Ken was forgotten. I hope he understood. Joe had airplanes, tanks, guns and fought battles! How could naked, pretty Ken in a box compete with Joe?

Flash forward through all those years. I was always with guys. I lived in a world of men, or at least of boys wanting and trying to be men. We fought battles, built cities, swam oceans, engaged in huge running sword fights and always conquered all we saw. We claimed this world as our own. That is what men do. Playing turned to sports, to sports we added cars, to cars we added jobs. Some eventually peeled away from the pack and started spending more time with girls, but always returned back to the pack. How was I supposed to know how strange this place was I lived? This was my life.

Time passes like a funny unseen murmur at times. I grew up, met my first real boyfriend who didn't live in a box in my closet. Each year, more guys, more friends, more buddies. Always one right by my side for as long as we would have each other. High School, then College, the Navy, always with guys. It was like summer camp never ended. I lived with them, cried with them, slept, showered, ate, worked, played, dressed, walked, breathed, lived and loved with them. Those were the arms that held me, they were the ones I held deep in the night when sleep took me away. Theirs were the faces, eyes,smiles strong hands and tangled legs that played the music of my life. The girls always stayed to the left. I entered the world of men and never looked back. I not only wanted their friendship and love, I demanded their respect. I was to be their leader. Something in me always called me to stand at the front. I don't think I ever learned to follow.

And now here I am, still me, still Daemon and the girls are still over there somewhere. The other, the unknown, the unseen. This doesn't strike me as normal as it did growing up. I mean, aren't I supposed to have friends who are girls? I mean, I'm gay. Even if I don't want one of my own, to have and to hold, aren't we supposed to be best friends and all that crap?

I think I got into that first line...way back in preschool and obeyed my teachers. I kept my eyes to the front. I did not look to the the left or right, stopped and started when told to, eyes on the back of his head...

And I never got out of that line.

Did you?

New friend

I meet many different people each day. I think we all do. Some leave an impression, others...not so much. Sometimes I sit at the coffee shop and watch people. I write about some, a few find their way into my sketches but rarely do these passing strangers find their way into my life.

Levi is different.

I knew this the very first time I saw him in September. He was sitting at a window table, his stuff spread out all over the place, kicked back in his chair, lounging in the sun and eating a cookie. He caught my eye at first, because he was wearing a bright red North Face jacket, then as my eyes wandered, I decided I really liked the scuffed Adidas kicks, rumpled jeans (that he filled out nicely), frayed belt, broad shoulders and curly blonde hair.

Then his eyes caught me...literally caught me.

Deepest blue I have seen, ever.

Watching me...watching him.

Yeah.

Bold little fucker.

Not really sure how long we stared, but he kept eating his cookie and I stood there with my coffee, like an idiot. I finally remembered to smile but found that my face was already stretched into a huge grin. Suddenly I bolted for my usual table, which happened to be near his, and settled in to read and listen to some music.

He leaned over, scratched his nose and said, "Hi, I'm Levi. What's your name?"

It gets better...

This was shared with me by a fellow blogger, Pomoprophet. Like he stated, this guy certainly gets it! Check out Pomo's blog too. PomoProphet's Blog I like his take on life, current events, community and the crazy stuff that happens in this country. Cheers!

Daemon

Pumpkin Pie...Finally!

Doo, doo, dee, doo! Sitting here with my feet up after a good day. Cooking roux and chicken for my White Chicken Chili tomorrow night. Super secret recipe...won't tell ya, but it's GREAT! Like Tony always says. (the Tiger, not my Italian friend, silly.) What was today about?

Woke up a bit early with a bizarre song stuck in my head. It was actually this...




Yeah...so this morning was odd to say the least! I don't really even like musicals and Broadway, but I think this was left over from watching De-Lovely the other week. (Cole Porter story, Kevin Kline) Anyway...woke up slowly, went for a run, showered up, made coffee and puttered around the house for awhile. Well, actually a long while. Didn't get out of the house till afternoon or so. Washed the car, cleaned house, made a grocery list, I dunno...all the usual stuff. Somehow ended up listening to the soundtrack to Evita during all that, then switched to Cajun music. Yeah...who the heck knows?

Ran to the library, picked out some new authors to read, got a few favorite CD's to listen to. Sex and City soundtrack is great as well as the soundtrack to the History Boys. Both good stuff and emotional lodestones in my life with Michael...long story. Came back home, ate some lunch and then blew off the rest of the day.

Tonight was my small group from church. It rocked. We discussed the ending of the 6 week series on 'We are Church' and had some awesome discussion on everything from friends, Mormon boys and all kinds of good questions and stuff. Had some pumpkin pie...so now it is officially Fall! Got a text from Stephen, who let me know he was going to bed in Maine! Huh? Minnesota, Ohio, now Maine? I do not know what got into that guy, but I sure do miss him. Get back home, Stephen! :)

Gareth (friend from Australia) is headed back home for two weeks this Friday for a wedding of one of his mates. Other friends taking off for Africa soon too. Seems like everyone is getting to travel now but me. Where should I go? It is not like I have to be anywhere until what...Thanksgiving? Well, I have to take my Chili to church tomorrow night, and speak at the Mayflower Society Fall Luncheon (I am the Governor, now) but hmm...I do have some free time till school starts. I dunno? I don't even know where I would want to go at the moment.

Random blog post, I know, sorry. But this is how my brain works at the end of the day. Nothing cool, exciting or crazy today. Just simple stuff, but good. Have been crazy horny lately, but porn helps and kind of decided to not have sex for awhile. How long I don't know, but I am not dating or hunting, if that makes sense. Thinking about cutting out alcohol for awhile too, just to see what that would be like?

Well, I have to shred all this chicken and then get some sleep. Morning comes early and I like to see each sunrise when I can. Wish you all well!

Daemon

This is it

 

I think this says it pretty well. Don't forget to yield on green. :)

I are confused

Sitting here listening to the music of Mike Crawford and the Secret Siblings thinking on yesterday and how very odd and unexpected it was. Definitely check out the song "Center My Heart". This is our music group and leader from church. Songs from Jacobs Well Find myself confused about church and faith, but I should start at the beginning.

Woke up early way before the sun and got ready for my day. Nothing much planned except church and the coffee shop. Since I got such an early start, I decided to go the the 9 am service instead of my usual 11 o'clock time. Hit the coffee shop (no line was a bonus!) and did a little reading and people watching. David and some friends from church were there, but I just said hi and took my usual table on the patio and enjoyed seeing the city wake up around me. Headed over to church while listening to some Il Divo (those guys rock) and had my pick of parking spots. The service was great, got to see all my friends, shared some great hugs. Seemed like everyone was loving on me extra hard? I guess some news travels fast. Deth finished the 6 weeks series on "We are Church" and I learned a little more about my own little place in this community that I am a part of.

Service let out, all my usual peeps started showing up for the next service and I got some grief over switching up my times. I guess I am pretty patterned and predictable at times. My friends know where to find me on any given day and time, unless I just get a wild hair up my ass and take off.

Which is what I decided to do...

Since I was out early I decided to visit another church that a good friend had invited me to several times over. I always had some excuse, but now with the space and time, curiosity got the better of me. A simple way to put it is this, he goes to a gay church. Now we have gay people at my church, duh...but this church is different. I would say it is the biggest church in the city that plays an inclusionary role in the LGBT community. They rent a building to the Gay and Lesbian Community Center and also host Passages, the LGBTQA youth group in Kansas City. So yeah...really gay. :)

What I found to be my experience has left me a bit stunned and confused about my faith, my church and my past ideas and concepts of practice. I drove up a bit after the service started, so as to avoid having to socialize with a bunch of strangers. I'd say about five minutes late. Plus I had to grab another coffee to settle my nerves. I grabbed my bag and walked in with the other guys who got a late start in the morning. Some of the were VERY cute, but never mind that. I was there to see what this church was like.

I was greeted at the door and given a bulletin and visitors card and then I found a spot near the back of the sanctuary to the far right. It was traditional church building, old and beautiful, but more modern than Jacobs Well. Amazing stained glass windows, soaring oak arches and thick solid pews that were comfortably padded. A glance around the congregation showed many couples, guys with guys, girls with girls, families, both str8 and gay and a large number of single people like myself. A pretty mixed crowd, though many more LGBT people than my church.


I had missed the group singing, but did note the hymnals in the pew shelves. There was a full choir up front and they even had choir robes on! That was kind of a shock. Grand piano, organ and small band up front. The choir sang an awesome song about being redeemed, full of the gospel, but definitely older music that I had become accustomed to. I knew it was going to be a different experience because I started recognizing faces from the gay community that I have known and worked with over the years. One of the managers from a local Chevy dealership was in the choir. He was dressed as a woman as he usually is when out and about though certainly not at work. He sang a solo and his clear tenor voice was amazing to hear. I didn't even know he went to church! I guess it would be more PC to refer to him as her, but I am not sure if he is Trans or simply just a cross dresser. Looking around more, I noticed that one of my bartenders was playing the piano and another one was in the choir. One of the guys I knew from political work was playing the guitar. I finally started looking around and really looking at faces.

I knew at least 40-50 of the guys at this church. I found that kind of stunning. In all the years I have known them, only a few of us have ever spoken of faith and God. The size of the gay Christian community in Kansas City was much larger than I thought, and this is just ONE of the gay churches in town. It is non-denominational and the other one is Baptist.

After a few announcements of a good drive, current activities and upcoming concerts (Ray Boltz...wow) the message started. The pastor spoke on the Rich Man and Lazarus. He preached powerfully about salvation, our calling to spread the gospel and also to minister to all of those who are "laying at our front gate". The compassion and conviction that filled his message gripped me, and I stopped writing in my journal and just listened. I was convicted. They used more scripture and doctrine in one message here than I have heard in the last few years at my church. I had expected some kind of unity, happy, peace and love hippy dippy bullshit honestly. But I was hearing the Bible preached powerfully.

The message ended and there was a few more songs and announcements and then it was time for communion. The entire service had been signed for the hearing impaired but the pastor who got up to speak and serve communion signed for himself/herself...still not really sure, but that is not important.

I have never heard such a compelling, heart rending and Spirit filled call to communion and its true story in my life. I cried again and then also decided to not take communion with them. I already had at my church but I think the real reason was, despite their open and loving invitation, I felt completely unworthy. This body of Christians lived Christ's love to each other and their whole service was saturated in truth and power. This was not some sham gay church. This place was real and many of the people there just happened to be gay. They were more conservative even that I am and held closer to a faith that I remember from my childhood.

I went out into the sunshine feeling very confused and kind of baffled. What just happened in there? What do they have that I am lacking? How could I have been so wrong about what I thought I would find? I said hello to a few friends I knew and kind of fended of the curious guys who wanted to know who the new guy was. I will just let my other friends fill them in...lol

I took off and went to Michael's club to grab a few beers and watch the Chiefs game. Not surprising that soon after I arrived to meet my friends than many of the guys from that church started showing up. Now I just don't know what to think, but I am pretty sure after my service this next week, I will visit again.

What do you all think about churches that welcome gay people in, not as some broken and twisted souls to be "fixed" but as full members and encouraged to be involved in all areas of the ministry? An open display of acceptance instead of the quiet who cares attitude and certainly not the hell fire damnation and hate so often seen in mainstream denominations.

I are confused all over again...but I think that is a good thing?

Daemon

This morning

The sound of the  Westminster grandfather clock chiming six bells broke the silence of the dark morning and awareness crept in like fog, on tiny cats feet. Eyes not yet open, the beginning days thoughts began to encroach and push the fading dreams from the mans mind. He laid there, clinging to each peace of dream, as if to discern meaning and fabric from the memories of what seemed just a few moments hence. Images and words were moving back into the orderly files of those sleep files, but he still struggled to wrest a story from them, or was it his past? It certainly did not seem to be something he remembered in this life time but the faces and local was definitely familiar. Dreams always seemed as such to him. A fantastical journey of what was and could be, mixed with the musings and hopes of what was not and will never happen. Strong, dark sexual images, questing eyes, a concern of another, and then it fades to the more pressing needs straining the confines of his boxers. The urgency of needing to relieve his bladder or get laid seemed a mix signal to a mind not yet awake. At least one of those could be dealt with, so he shoved aside the sheets and down comforter, mindful of the mornings chill and padded silently to the bathroom his feet whispering a prayer softly..

His eyes were not fully ready for the insulting light and he squinted while fumbling with the band of cotton around his waist. Sight finally showed that what he was searching for had already poked out and was announcing the location of  his navel and was certainly not being compliant or willing to be aimed anywhere in a direction closer to the floor. He could see his heart beat in it making it sway.  A few moments pause and pushing found enough tumescence for his intentions and with a grateful sigh, water began to sing and splash loudly in the bowl with a deep, tumbling hum. His eyes scanned for the familiar red digits of the alarm clock and it silently announced that yes, it really was 6:14 in the morning. Slapping the light back off, his eyes grateful, he idly scratched the tuft of hair on his belly and found his way by sound to the tall, heavy oaken armoire. Feet on cold tile, stepping slowly, feet on hardwood boards, warmer still, the soft brush of a tufted carpet and he arrived.

The hammered brass handles were easy for his thick fingers to find, even in the gray light and he swung the doors open to the left and right the snick of clasps announcing their release. Scent of cedar lined shelves, waft of cologne on thick woolen sweaters, the hint of fabric softened linens and the light tang of gun oil slipped past his nose. He knew where he was. This was home. Hands found the combed cotton pajama pants and a well worn t-shirt by feel. The pieces that came away in his paws complimented in color and texture, which, for some reason, struck him as amusing and a grin stretched over his lips and wiggled his nose. Always precise, even in the half light of morning and  far from awake...he mused. Pants pulled lightly over hips, up and over his slowly deflating bulge. Couple of firm tucks and pushes got everything into place down there. A t-shirt stretched over head and settled onto shoulders and torso like a soft hug. These textiles chased the chill a bit further into his memory. A yawn splits his face while a hard stretch makes chords pop and the quiet room heard his gentle but rough sigh. The zip of a hoodie going on sounded like a muted but cheery cricket lost inside where it was warmer. Feet slipped into  frayed hemp and leather flip flops and he left the room like a shadow.

He walked through the darkened house, memories and touch serving his passage more so than eyes would ever tell. Forward down the hall past large framed pictures collected while traveling, stairs and furled ballister to the right  then left under hand and then there was days light, peeking in the transom over the front door. Birds peeping in the evergreens planted on the south west corner announcing their cheerful good mornings. The slide of brushed nickle mortise locks crisping open, well oiled against winters arrival, snicked loudly as the broad   solid paneled door swung open on a new day. Pushing the leaded glass storm door wide against the hinges, he stepped onto the brick and timbered front porch and settled himself on the steps this morning instead of his familiar  Adirondack chair. Deep breaths in brought Falls musk and cool air into a body still warmed from sleep. The chill of stone made a cold spot on his rump. A hand rubbed his face, grasped his chin firmly and twisted left and towards the trees. The internal musket crack of joints popping brought a contented smile to his face. Long legs drawn up in a mantis crouch kept his knees close to his shoulders. He wrapped his arms around himself and arched his back forward, eyes wide now and accepting. Autumn colors graced his eyes, rippling meaning, like a just tossed upon pond.

Thought had arrived. Dreams were gone but for awhile...

Morning.

And so he sat.

Night Post

Kind of strange to be sitting here and writing a few things in the evening. I typically post during the day, specifically in the morning, kind of as a way of clearing my head. Guess tonight is an exception?

What was today, Thursday? Yeah, that is right. Cause last night was my Corpus group. (small home church group) It was amazing. Joined a new group this Fall as my old group kind of imploded due to tons of kids being had, all kind of activities that kept all the young parents busy and who knows what all else. My new group meets at a couples house in Wednesday night to discuss the weeks message, share what is going on in our lives, play and eat together, just live out community, I guess? They have this kick ass ginormous Arts and Crafts style home that has to be at least 100 years old. It is like 4 stories tall and decorated in a way that hearkens back to a great age of style, preserves the heritage of the home but still features all the latest technology and amenities. They raised all their kids there and have now opened their home graciously to all us crazy guys and girls from church. I think they will soon be a second family to me. I had met Edward on my camping trip and he is a Harvard trained attorney who is blind. Just an amazing soul. His wife is love. That is the easiest way to explain Ansie. They rock...more on them as time goes by.Met some new peeps, saw some old friends and definitely know that is the place for me. Yippee!

Hmm...today, slept in a bit, till 8 or so and then had interviews and tours all day of a company I had put some feelers out to. That is right...I think my care free time off is coming to an end. I really need a schedule and something to do with my days instead of living the life of some goof off wander about. This summer and fall have been awesome so far but I am actually kind of bored with all the freedom and time on my hands. Hard to believe I know, but a man needs something to do, a purpose, a sense of productivity. At least I do. Took a tour of the entire facilities tonight and am very intrigued and interested to do some chemistry for them. I will know more tomorrow, but have my toes crossed...plus. They will pay me in money! That kind of comes in handy at times...lol

I am pretty tired. Got done reading all my stuff...oh yeah! Ran into friends from the lake today here in town. Talk about strange. They were not together at least, that could have been awkward. (simple story, I slept with both of them at different times over my vacation time at the lake. Hard to not think of how great that was when talking at the coffee shop, like a movie on the back of my eyelids) It was great to catch up, but it was strange hanging in the city instead of the lake. I spent a little time with each, drank some coffee, talked and acted interested in their lives, but whatever those sparks were are gone for me. Just pretty and blank faces. Is that strange? Was it just the magic of being at the lake? Or have I changed that much. Kind of made me sad that their lives were still kind of revolving around a circle. They are still trying to find their success and acceptance in society with the grasp for money and relationship. I have been that way before and know what it feels like. Who knows? I might be there again sometime, but at least I have a direction at the moment.

So I guess I will do some work until school starts. The pay is great, the hours are cushy and it is a new and exciting field. I should know by tomorrow. Guess I will have to make this weekend count for something because it is back to being a bit of an adult at times. Crapster! I forgot about that part. I kind of got used to being the boss of me. Ima go to bed now, even though it's hella early. I just am tired. G'nite all. Maybe I will have something worth saying in the morning.

Daemon

Good Mornin' to Ya

Hello World,

Woke up at 6:00 am though my body clock was guessing it was around 4:39 am or so. Laid there for a bit and just took inventory for a few moments. My back is healing, that's a good thing. Thanks for that! Stretched out under the warm covers and popped my toes and it felt nice to yawn hard and know today was going to be a good one.

Padded to the bath room and looked at my tussled hair with a grin and started in on the daily maintenance. Waited till the shower was steaming hot, taking the time to brush my teeth and drain the lizard. Ever notice how good that first morning pee always feels? Scrubbed down twice till my skin felt squeaky then dried off in the warmth with a clean rough towel. Man...that felt great! So many things we take for granted in this country. Being clean and warm, a soft, big bed to sleep in, a peaceful quiet place to wake up in. All of these things I have done without, at times in my life, and now am so very grateful.

A long, leisurely shave...ahhh. Now that is what I am talking about! Little bit more grooming and my body is ready to face the day. Time to stretch and run through a few exercises. Muscles protested a little bit, but all in all feeling like a fine Navy day! I love that feeling in the back of my legs and shoulders, that gentle ache that feels so good. Every day my flexibility is coming back, granted, I am not doing the splits again yet, but am getting there. It feels great to lay my face flat on my legs again. Having a hurt back really sucked there for awhile. You don't appreciate your core strength until it is damaged.

Hmm...is that the smell of coffee? Forget the robe this morning. The air feels good on the skin. Went through the house without turning on the lights and prepared my morning joe. Mmmm...good. *slurp* Stepped outside for a bit, after throwing on some flannel pants, of course, though sometimes it is nice to step outside nakie.  Brrrrr...cool and crisp with just the hint of morning light. Neighborhood slowly waking up, the lake pretty calm and placid. I so love Fall! It smells like promise in the air and the hint of wood smoke from some ones fireplace.

Yesterday was amazing. Got to fly my kite for a few hours at the lawn of the Nelson Atkins Art Museum. Caught the attention of some life hysterical kids who ran around shrieking at the top of their lungs as I made the kite dive bomb them and dance over their heads. One solemn little guy hung back, his mouth agape and eyes as wide as saucers. I invited him to take the string and he came over and eagerly obliged. While teaching him how to catch the wind and keep the line taught I noticed an art student from KCAI capturing everything in stills with his camera. Such a beautiful afternoon. The kids wandered off with their minders to tour the gallery and I was left to myself again, just listening to tunes and fishing for the wind. That is, until the dang times sprinklers came on to water the lawn! Bwhahahaha...I just stood there and let them soak me. It is just water and it felt so good! Alive again, all in that moment.

Funny thing, my Dad showed up at my place later in the day. Acted like nothing had ever happened and was dying to show me a new singer he had discovered. Spent some time listening to Doug Kershaw, his new obsession and was taken aback that after so much grief in two weeks time that my Dad was reaching out to me in the only way he knew how. Through music. I know he can't address the things he said and he is even worse at apologies. In his mind, the matter is settled, at least for awhile and he knows that I know what he feels about all that. I guess I could be ugly and drag it all out again, but in the way of men, I think I am going to let go of it and take this for what it is, a truce. We understand each other well enough to know how we think and feel about what happened, no need to let words all get in the way. Is that hard on me? Yes, yes it is. Am I okay with that? I think I am. For now I am glad to be sharing time and space again. I am sure that it was not easy for him to drive out and wonder what look on my face would greet him. Not talking for that length of time was hard on us both. Guys are weird...I know, cause I am one of them.

After the sun comes up a bit, I am going to take the top off the car and get him ready for a drive. South I think this morning, maybe out Lees Summit way. Kind of hit the back country roads and push some new tunes though the system. Tonight I am excited about. My new Corpus group starts that Gareth invited me to and one of the guys in church will be leading it this Fall and Winter. Edward is quite a character. I first met him on the Guys Camping Trip this summer. He is blind, but I did not even notice for about the first hour, he is that skilled! He graduated from Harvard a while back and I am intrigued to get to know him better. Gareth of course rocks, my crazy friend from Australia. Need to pick his brain some about all things Culinary. He was a chef in France and England before coming to America. Doesn't hurt that he is smashingly beautiful in his charming and rugged way, but not to worry. I'll be good!

Breakfast time in a few. Warm, comfortable broken in jeans from the dryer. A faded and much loved t-shirt, might grab a sweater and cap for the morning jaunt? Looks to be a good day! Hope it finds you well.

Daemon

Guys: Bad Romance ala Gaga

These guys are a riot and pretty talented at that! Started my day with a smile and cracked me up! Enjoy...

Daemon