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CONTENTS
CONTRIBUTING WRITERS Marjorie Hagy History Marjorie is a bibliophile, a history nut and an insomniac, among several other conditions, both diagnosed and otherwise. When she's not working tirelessly to avoid getting a real job, she nurses an obsession with her grandson and is involved in passing legislation restricting the wearing of socks with sandals. She is an aspiring pet hoarder who enjoys vicious games of Scrabble, reading Agatha Christie, and sitting around doing nothing while claiming to be thinking deeply. Marjorie has five grown children, a poodle to whom she is inordinately devoted in spite of his breath, and holds an Explore record for never having submitted an article on time. She's been writing for us for five years now.
Old Timer Just Old Timer The Old Timer tells us he's been a resident of Boerne since about 1965. He enjoys telling people what he doesn't like. When not bust'n punks he can be found feeding the ducks just off Main St. or wandering aimlessly in the newly expanded HEB. Despite his rough and sometimes brash persona, Old Timer is really a wise and thoughtful individual. If you can sort through the BS.
Kendall D. Aaron Spiritual I’m just a normal guy. I’m not a theology student, I don’t preach in church, and I’ve never written a book. I’m just a normal guy that thinks, and feels, and is on a never-ending journey attempting to be the best person I can be. I fail frequently at this quest, yet each day, the quest continues. I’ve lived in Boerne since the late ‘80s, I’ve got a most beautiful wife, three wonderful children, and just really, really love God. Thanks for going on my spiritual journey with me.
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NE XT TO LIT TLE GRETEL
DEAREST EXPLORE READER, Sometimes I think that I have lived two lives (so far). That might seem bi-polar, but if you think back on your own life, I bet that you could also identify some different “chapters” of your life that changed and shaped your life in ways that ultimately transformed many things about you. Sometimes I think that you are changed for the better, and unfortunately, sometimes you are changed for the worse. I think I’ve been changed for both good, and bad. I was daydreaming the other day and looking at houses that are for sale. It’s fun sometimes just to see what’s out there, what they cost, etc. As I looked at some of these houses, several caught my eye and would be an improvement from my current modest living conditions. I would think “Ya know, that one would actually work AND I can still afford it.” Yes, it costs more than my current home, but I could make the payment. Then I quickly realized that I would shut down the idea because I don’t trust my income anymore. This made me curious as I’ve been 100% self-employed for over 11 years and I’m not broke yet, so I wondered why I would suddenly distrust my income. The reason why is because one of the unfortunate changes I’ve experienced is that my trust in the stability of life has been eroded due to the past few years. What is here one day, is gone the next. Marriages, jobs, clients, and even people…in the blink of an eye, they can be erased through no fault or action of your own. That’s a crappy perspective, though it’s an honest one. I am a bit relieved to realize, though, that the perspective is mirrored by a positive change in that it has made me immeasurably more thankful for everything that exists around me in this very moment. My house. My family. My job. And you, dear reader, who make this small business operate. So even though I fear that I cling too tightly to things now, I do think it’s good that I’m aware of the fragility of my existence and appreciate it far more. In my job, I talk to small business owners all day every day. Most are successful people that have worked at their business for a long time, are astute with their strategies, and plan accordingly. Most are thinking 5, 10, and even 20 years down the road with their planning not only for their businesses, but for their lives. They are already talking about their 2020 budgets, what they are going to do in their personal lives in 10 years, and where they ultimately want to retire. I used to think in similar ways. I would think things like “In 5 years, I hope to be doing this or that in business…” or “If I invest my money here, in 20 years it will be worth a whole lot.” Nowadays, I kind of smirk and chuckle when I hear these types of statements from people because, you see, in “My Life 2.0”, there is no room or space in my consciousness for such foolish statements. Why? Because I have come to learn, unfortunately, that as I sit here typing this I am in good health and might expect to live a long, good life… but that can change literally in an instant. We all know this to be true, but I think our own arrogance tells us “Pfft – you are YOU. You are destined to a long wonderful life!”
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So while we all know that we could walk outside and be flattened by a dump truck, or the next phone call could be a cancer diagnosis, we tend to shrug these thoughts off and resume our retirement planning. Not so much for me anymore. In fact, I’ve been changed so much that I have to force myself to engage planning beyond perhaps a few months. While appreciating our present situation is a good thing, my new refusal to make any long term plans is probably not so good. That bill that is due next month? I’ll worry about it one the due date. Retirement? Are you kidding me? My summer vacation plans? Meh – I’ll figure it out when it’s summer. I’m not putting things off, I’m just figuring that I’ll worry about an issue when it’s time to worry about that issue. Like every young person, I figured that the older people in my life were no smarter than I, they were simply older. I’m not “old” yet, but it does give me new appreciation for those elders around me. I can think of my 94 year old grandfather who is still as sharp as a tack: I don’t think I’ve ever sat down to ask his advice on things, but maybe I should. Logic would tell me that he has experienced more situations than I have by far, and thus, possesses more knowledge with a perspective I’ve not been given yet. If I’m on Life 2.0, he must be on Life 8.6. I wish I had his knowledge for my Life 2.0 – I bet his knowledge coupled with my Life 2.0 would make me a pretty vibrant and intelligent person. Alas, I do not have his knowledge yet… and won’t…until I get to Life 8.6. I suppose I don’t really have a moral or even a point to this little column other than I hope that you might lean back in your easy chair and think about what Life Version you are on right now. If you recognize that your life is constantly altering and vacillating with its priorities, you might look at particular situations a bit different. Maybe you’ll find that your priorities might be different if you look around at other people (like me) that have experienced a different life than you and try to apply a different vantage point to your Life 3.X. Here’s one thing that none of us will argue over: LIFE IS SHORT. It doesn’t matter if it’s 4 years long, 104 years long, the people in both situations were probably ready to carry on longer. And that perspective, as they neared death knowing it was to be soon, is the perspective that we all should have in every single chapter of our lives: Life is short…and life is precious. Everything else is secondary. Welcome to December. We close out one year and prepare for a new one. EXPLORE your life this month, open your eyes fully to what you see, and embrace every single part of it. After all it’s your life, and in the end, that’s all you have. Smiling,
ben@hillcountryexplore.com
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AREA EVENTS
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BANDERA December 7 Cowboy Capital Christmas and Shoppers Jubilee Enjoy beautiful lights and music from children’s choirs during a living nativity and a visit from Cowboy Santa. Bandera merchants are open late for holiday shopping, and the streets fill with strolling Christmas carolers, musicians, and cowboys. Main Street.
COMFORT December 1-December 31 Life-Size Nativity Figures on Display These vintage, life-size figures originally came from the Sears building in San Antonio. Jeannette MacDougall extensively re- stored them in 2015 under the direction of the Comfort Chamber of Commerce. Comfort Park, 423 Main St.
December 8 Cowboy Capital Christmas Parade Bring a lawn chair and look for Santa in a parade down Main Street.
December 1-25 Townwide Christmas Lighting Contest and Viewing Comfort businesses and residences go all- out to light and decorate for Christmas. Drive through day and night for beautiful and inspiring displays. Various locations.
December 8 Hill Country Holiday This event includes a musical celebration, a schoolhouse tour, a Polly exhibit, and holiday refreshments. Polly’s Chapel, 359 Polly’s Chapel Road. BOERNE December 1 Oma’s Christmas Craft Fair Find Texas handcrafted wood items, homemade jellies, hand-crafted clothing, wall hangings, ceramics, knitted and crocheted goods, hand-embroidered items, and hand-painted bird feeders and bird houses. With three large buildings full of handmade crafts, it’s easy to find the perfect gift for any loved one. Kendall County Fairgrounds. December 1 Weihnacht Parade Watch as up to 100 lighted entries travel along Main Street at this 32nd annual tradition. Boerne’s Hill Country Mile, 100 N. Main St. December 4-5 A Walk in Bethlehem As you enter the city, allow the sights, sounds, and smells to carry you to a period of time that changed the world. Journey through the heart of the city after being counted for the census. Collect your denarii, and enter the marketplace that is bustling with activity from more than a dozen authentic shops. Enjoy samples from the baker’s shop, marvel at the crafts of potters, carpenters, and basket weavers, and listen for the rumor of a king’s birth from excited townspeople. The highlight of the event will be a traditional nativity scene including camels and Magi. St. Helena’s Episcopal Church, 100 N. Main St. December 7 Camerata San Antonio Concert Enjoy a chamber music concert inspired by the strength of the human spirit in the face of the depths of human cruelty, featuring violinist Anastasia Parker, violist Emily Freudigman, cellist Ken Freudigman, and pianist Viktor Valkov. First United Methodist Church, 205 James St. December 8-9 Boerne Christmas Market Days Listen to live local music and shop for handmade arts and crafts, art, woodwork, antiques, collectibles, chic clothing and accessories, vintage items, jewelry, and more. Boerne’s Main Plaza, 100 N. Main St. December 8 Second Saturday Art Beat Boerne shops and art galleries team up for a fine art experience. Take a walk on the art side every second Saturday of the December 15-16 Cowboy Christmas Market Days Finish your last-second Christmas shopping. Get your pictures taken in the old jailhouse with period cowboys and Old West characters. Arts, crafts, antiques, collectibles, chic clothing, jewelry, accessories, vintage, decor, and more are available for sale. The event includes great food and music from local bands and singer-songwriters. Boerne’s Main Plaza, 100 N. Main St. December 15 The Ten Tenors in Concert Come home for the holidays with The Ten Tenors. With a generous mix of festive favorites and modern holidays hits, the group walks you through a musical winter wonderland that truly captures the essence of the holidays. Champion High School Auditorium, 201 Charger Blvd. December 22 Concert in the Cave: Winter Solstice Enjoy an eclectic concert of holiday music celebrating the winter solstice, combining contemporary arrangements of traditional carols, soaring vocals, original acoustic music, and pulsing world-beat rhythms, performed on a mixture of ancient and modern instruments. Cave without a Name, 325 Kreutzberg Road.
FREDERICKSBURG November 23-Jan. 6 Eisbahn Outdoor Ice Skating This annual seasonal event benefits local charities. Marktplatz, 100 block of W. Main St.
December 4 The Kerrville Ministerial Alliance Christmas Walk Five downtown churches each have a 20-minute Christmas-themed service retelling the Christmas story in five parts. Notre Dame Church, 909 Main St. December 6 Symphony of the Hills in Concert Hear the magnificent sounds of the symphony, and settle in at the wine and cheese reception. Cailloux Theater. December 8-9 Hill Country Gun Show Shop from approximately 70 vendors at the show. Hill Country Veterans Center, 411 Meadowview Lane.
December 1-16 Christmas Wine Affair Tickets include a Tasting Pass- port to receive complimentary tastings and wine discounts at dozens of participating wineries on this self-guided tour.
December 8 White Christmas in the Hills Kerrville School of Dance and San Antonio Performing Arts Classical Ballet present a colorful Christmas program. Cailloux Theater, 910 Main St.
December 7 Light the Night Christmas Parade and AfterGlow Catch this breathtaking lighted night parade and participate in activities presented by the Fredericksburg Chamber of Commerce.
December 21 Riders in the Sky in Concert The “four-part harmonizing cow- boys” don their sequined Yuletide outfits for this holiday musical show for the whole family, complete with singalongs. Cailloux Theater, 910 Main St.
December 7 Pearl Harbor Day Observance Attend this recognition and memorial program with speakers, a chaplain, the Joint Color Guard, music, and more. National Museum of the Pacific War. December 15-16 “The Singing Christmas Tree” Local volunteers present a one-hour concert standing on a 30foot tall decorated and lighted Christmas tree. Pioneer Museum, 325 W. Main St. December 22 Luckenbach Christmas Ball Enjoy this annual holiday dance in a historic hall featuring musician Gary P. Nunn. Luckenbach Texas Dance Hall, 412 Luckenbach Town Loop. December 31 Countdown to 2019 This event features a DJ, food trucks, and a midnight ball drop. Bring blankets and chairs to join the fun. Marktplatz, 100 W. Main St. December 31 Luckenbach New Year’s Eve Celebration Usher in the new year with one heck of a party in a historic dance hall featuring music by the Almost Patsy Cline Band. Luckenbach Texas Dance Hall, 412 Luckenbach Town Loop. GRUENE December 1-2 Christmas Market Days Nearly 100 vendors offer Christmas gifts, uniquely crafted items, and packaged Texas foods. This event is perfect for everyone on your holiday shopping list. December 1 Gruene Pony Express Ride This 17th annual event features relay riders carrying a “Christmas Greetings” message from the Governor of Texas. A temporary post office is set up next to Gruene Outfitters to cancel stamps for mailing. December 1-2, 8-9,15-16, 21-22 Photos with Cowboy Kringle Capture this year’s Christmas memories by taking photos with Gruene’s own brand of Santa. Pictures are taken in the breezeway be- tween The Grapevine and Gruene General Store. The Grapevine, 1612 Hunter Road. December 1 Gruene Town Lighting Gruene closes out the many festivities of the day with a brass band street performance followed by the annual town lighting, when Cowboy Kringle rides into town on horseback and hands out candy canes to the kids. Various locations. December 8 Jingle Bell Run/Walk These 26th annual 5K run/walk and Kid’s Ks events benefit St. Jude’s Ranch for Children. Awards are given to the top male and female finishers, the top male and female masters, the top three finishers in each age group, and the top three wheelchair athletes. Gruene Hall, 1281 Gruene Road. December 31 New Year’s Eve at Gruene Hall Ring in the New Year at Texas’ oldest dance hall. Gruene Hall, 1281 Gruene Road.
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KERRVILLE December 1-16 “Nuncrackers” This show is filled with typical “nunsense” humor, favorite carols, and “Secret Santa” audience participation. Playhouse 2000 VK Garage Theater, 305 Washington St.
NEW BRAUNFELS December 5-7 “The Grand Ol’ Christmas Show” This variety show is a tribute to the original, traditional, old fashioned “Christmas Show.” Presented in the format of a live radio broadcast, it features American band Blue Water Highway, along with a 12-piece big band, gospel choir, and some of the best singers and entertainers in Texas. Brauntex Performing Arts Theatre, 290 W. San Antonio St. December 6 Wassailfest The annual festival begins with the official toast to kick off the event, and includes an evening of music, fun, food, great shop- ping, thousands of twinkling lights, and, of course, lots of free wassail to sample. Downtown New Braunfels, Main Plaza. WIMBERLEY November 24-December 28 Trail of Lights Stroll a walking path with more than 100 lighted exhibits with live entertainment and marshmallow roasting. EmilyAnn Theatre and Gardens, 1101 FM 2325. December 1 Market Days More than 400 booths aligned along shaded paths offer treasures of all kinds for your holiday shopping needs. Live music, lots of food, and beverage options make a unique shopping experience. Lions Field, 601 FM 2325. December 7-9 Christmas Concerts The Wimberley Community Chorus performs holiday favorites. Chapel in the Hills, 14601 RM 12. December 8 Holiday Bazaar The market has gifts for everyone for the holidays, including jewelry, clothing, candles, handmade items, gourd art, toys, home decor, metal, and glass and wood art. Wimberley Community Center, 14068 RM 12. December 8-9 Second Saturday Gallery Trail Galleries in and around the Wimberley Square stay open late and offer great art, wine, and appetizers. Wimberley Square. December 8 Winter’s Eve Enjoy live music, food, drinks, raffles, prizes, and Santa. Wimberley Square. December 15 Blue Christmas This annual event features horse carriage rides, an ugly sweater contest, a roaring fire, local music groups leading carols, hot chocolate, Santa, and blue lights everywhere. Blue Hole Regional Park, 101 Blue Hole Lane. December 16 Christmas Concert The Starlight Symphony Orchestra performs holiday classics. Wimberley First Baptist Church, 15951 Winters Mill Parkway.
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CHRONICLES
LLANO By Steve Ramierz
T
The morning sun rises over the Llano. It reaches down through the branches of the trees and warms my shoulders, scattering diamonds across the moving water. As the sun touches the river, the breeze begins to rise and so do my spirits. It flows through cedar and limestone hills, across grassy plains, over multicolored pebbles, and with it go my cares. The Llano is a magical river.
Life slips by like the river. Once I fluttered above it, tethered to the earth, young and green…living on sunbeams and breezes. Now as I float leaf-like along its rocky shores and look up through the branches: the sunbeams seem more distant. When ever I truly feel adrift in life, I know that I can return to the river. At first I stand along its shoreline, knee deep in the green grass that waits to take me. Then standing in the water- it rushes past me…in front and behind me, and if I pay attention I will find myself there. Sometimes in my mind’s eye, I see a Comanche Warrior standing where I stand. He listens to the same water that has flowed through time down the Llano and up into the clouds only to fall to the river: home once more. His horse is happy drinking cold water as the warrior ponders the passing of time…and day dreams of eagles, and wonders how the Great Spirit has made all that surrounds him. In the end, he drifts down the river just as I do: both of us just memories: but the river remains. Back and forth my fly-line sways as I cast tight loops over the water and bring them to rest upon the Llano. In a moment I am connected to the beating heart of another. He pulls at my fly-line, bending the rod and at once all is in motion: fish, river, sky, and me. I bring him to my hand all green and golden and alive- he rests there a moment and swims away. I thank him and wish him well. The Llano sustains us both. People live along the Llano. I find myself sitting in the beautiful old Texas town of Mason at my favorite table in my favorite Taqueria. Senora Santos is making tortillas in the tiny kitchen. They smell like heaven and taste like memories. When I was a tiny boy with a big spirit my grandmother made tortillas for me and then as now I was never sure what the best part was: the eating or the anticipation. So I sit there surrounded by the good people of these Texas hills and they give me comfort that “hope” is still very much alive.
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My sangria cools the wonderful fire of her habanero salsa. Laughter fills the room and life seems as it should be. Life lives along the Llano. Art is born along the Llano. A tiny gallery within the walls of an intimate winery grows organically next to Senora Santos’ kitchen. The building is art and is laden with stories of the men who built it and the lives that once lived within its wooden soul. A front porch calls out for time to be spent engaged in the lost art of conversation…real conversation between people not pixels. We sit together and sip fine wine and speak of what it is to be alive: truly. Smiles cannot be felt in virtual space, but here along the river in this time and place we share them freely. The wine is art that is wrung out from the grapes and from the heart. It – like the river, passes through time from generation to generationancient and modern, the smiles are the same. Along the shelves of the winery are pieces of pottery. They are the color of the earth, river, and sky. They are connected to the potter’s hands and spirit and flow through time. They honor the memory of an ancient soul that once- so long ago huddled beneath the limestone cliffs. He shaped clay with his imagination and his hands and painted his dreams upon the limestone walls. I purchased a small blue bowl. In truth, you never purchase art; you simply trade paper and coin for the privilege of sharing the artist’s vision. I have loved this small blue bowl for some time now, coveting it and daring myself to indulge. It sits upon my writing desk and when I see it- I smile. Memories are made along the Llano. I look up river toward a deep pool where my daughter casts her line. For a moment I stop fishing and just watch as she moves, like music, like dancing…the line suspended above her and then it comes to rest upon the river. She laughs and tiny fish swim around her legs and smiles at the red wing blackbirds that sing at the waters edge. I see her catching a fish; she brings it to hand, smiles at me, and then sets it free. In this moment the world is without worries and I am at peace. We stand together at the end of the day and look out at the river one last time: it was a perfect day. Hill Country Rivers are not just rivers. They are spirits that tell us of this land and of who we really are. Their waters carry us home-back to ourselves and wash away the illusion: leaving only truth. Without the rivers the Hill Country dies and with its death go all of the memories, passion, and peace that so many have come to know. The Llano is alive… and when I am with her: so am I.
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BADASS OF THE MONTH
I 20 | EXPLORE
I always make it a rule to let the other fellow fire first. If a man wants to fight, I argue the question with him and try to show him how foolish it would be. If he can’t be dissuaded, why then the fun begins but I always let him have first crack. Then when I fire, you see, I have the verdict of self-defence on my side. I know that he is pretty certain in his hurry, to miss. I never do. – Ben Thompson
This month’s Badass, Ben Thompson, was born in Knottingley, Yorkshire, England in 1843 and moved to the frontier town of Austin, Texas while he was still just a wee lad. As a teenager he worked as a printer for the local newspaper, but like any good honest slacker he eventually quit his job and became a professional gambler, which is a far more hardcore profession. When Thompson was 17, he had his first brush of badassery when he was drinking in New Orleans and saw some French guy bothering a fine lass who was having none of this advances. Thompson confronted the guy who instantly whipped out some wussy little knife, Thompson busted out a Crocodile Dundee knife, and Thompson knives the guy to death. He was aquitted of all charges. In 1860 he returned to Austin with his brother and enlisted in the Texas Rangers Battalion (which was a group of guys who really can’t be any more badass). They spent the next few months cruising around the Wild West fighting criminals and Comanche war parties and Mexican guerillas whenever they popped up and launched attacks. Needless to say, Thompson and his crew won all their battles. Thompson then joined the Confederate Army during the War of Northern Aggression, and served as a cavalryman. He was wounded in action 3 times, killed a mess Sergeant over something quite stupid, and even shot a teamster who was trying to steal an Army mule. He served honorably, was discharged, took a few months off in 1863 to get married. After the war, Thompson headed home to Austin, but as is the case with most badasses, trouble followed him. Some afternoon, a guy busted out a shotgun and tried to shoot Thompson, but he quick-drew him and popped him 3 times in the forehead before the guy hit the ground. He was dispatched to prison, sentenced to hard labor. Ouch. However, because his name was Ben Freakin’ Thompson, he bribed two guards and broke out of jail in the middle of the night. He stopped by his house, said goodbye to his family and split for Mexico where he served as a mercenary in the army of Emperor Maximilian I of Mexico. He fought in the Imperial Army down there until Maximilian was caught and executed, so Thompson got the hell out of Mexico fast so that he didn’t see the same fate. He returned to Austin in 1869, but yet again, trouble
found him. His no good brother in law beat the hell out of Thompson’s pregnant sister, and well, this did not go well. Thompson went to his sister’s house, knocked on the door, the dirtbag brother in law answered, and Thompson laid him out with a vicious punch. He then popped him in the ribs with his .45 because he didn’t want to kill the guy so that somebody could take care of his sister. Thompson was arrested and sentenced to 4 more years in prison, but his sister never had to worry about her safety again. After 2 years in the Pokey, Ulysses Grant pardoned him, and Thompson took his family to Abilene, Kansas and opened a saloon known as the Bull’s Head Saloon. He had some great success, but then some loser killed his business partner. The loser was Wild Bill Hickok. He moved out to Ellsworth, Kansas where he and his brother got jobs as house gamblers. Things were going ok for the most part until one night, while Thompson’s brother was blind drunk, they got into a gun fight with some goons and while spraying bullets everywhere, he shot the sheriff. He was then arrested by none other than Wyatt Earp, but acquitted as it was found to be in self defense. Thompson tired of this madness and decided to explore the frontier. He went to Wichita, and then Dodge City, but then headed out to Colorado where he met up with two other legendary badasses, Bat Masterson and Doc Holliday. The 3 of them were then hired by the Santa Fe Railroad to serve as hired guns and protect the trains. When Ben, Bat, and Doc were finished having crazy adventures and beating the hell out of bad guys, Ben moved back to Austin and opened up the Iron Foot Saloon. He was well-liked and successful, and he even got a part-time gig demonstrating his skill with a sixshooter as part of Buffalo Bill Cody's Wild West Show, which was pretty much the most badass job you could get back in the day. One night Thompson and some of his buddies were hitting the sauce at some other guy’s bar, who happened to have a beef with Thompson. That owner came out, pulled a shotgun, and Thompson dropped him like a bad habit. Then the bartender pulled a gun and Thompson dispatched him with anger. After the cops showed up, Thompson was tried for murder (again), but acquitted on grounds of self-defense (again). Thompson then used his reputation as an ass-kicker to be elected Marshal of Austin in 1880. Of course crime dropped dramatically, and legend has it that he didn’t like to dispatch his deputies, but preferred to kick ass by himself so he handled most issues. He even busted famous gunman Johnny Ringo (Tombstone, anyone?) when Ringo came through town and caused all sorts of problems. Thompson got into yet another bar fight and somebody ended up dead (again), and he was arrested (again). He was tried for murder (again) and was acquitted (again). His law enforcement career was over, though. Thompson succumbed to booze pretty bad, and his reputation went south when he took up his new hobby of stumbling around Austin in the middle of the night shooting out streetlights. One night, at a theatre, he was ambushed by a bunch of guys that had a beef with him, and Thompson went out shooting, killing many of the bad guys…though there were just too many and Thompson was killed…with his gun in his hand. "Thompson wasn't charismatic, he wasn't good looking. He had thinning hair and a terrible mustache. And listen: Billy the Kid. Jesse James. Wyatt Earp. Those are great names. Ben Thompson? It just doesn't have that ring to it." - Mark Kilmurry, producer of "John Wayne Never Slept Here"
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HISTORY
KEEPING CHRIST IN CHRISTIAN By Marjorie Hagy
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Last month I doled out some practical advice to help us all in navigating the holidays with those motley crews of misfits and miscreants we call our families. An important point I neglected to mention is that if while reading this depiction of various tribesmen and clanswomen and assorted waifs and urchins with whom we share common ancestors, you find yourself shaking your head in perplexity and thinking, But that doesn’t describe mine at all, there are no fruitcakes in MY fam! -then most likely you’re the weirdo in yours and you just haven’t realized it yet. When it does finally dawn on you, embrace it.
I had a great-aunt named Lolita who was born just about exactly a hundred years ago now, who lived just the way she wanted to, whose free-wheeling behavior frequently sent the family matriarchs swooning to their smelling salts- and who cemented her place in Hagy legend one fine day when she leapt into the sidecar of a motorcycle belonging to her gentleman caller, and the two of them roared away down the staid and stately street where she lived. Such behavior wasn’t universally scandalous anymore in the 1930s when this episode occurred, but Lolita’s was a family of tightly corsetted ladies with lace hankies tucked into their décolletage, whispering gossip behind silk fans, of debutante balls and teas in the garden and silent patriarchs who peered askance through their mononcles at recalcitrant young daughters. And still, a young Lolita Hagy in a Greta Garbo slouch hat gave her frowning mother a peck on the powdered cheek as she rushed past her down the front steps, the diaphanous hem of her party dress swept up into one gloved hand as she vaulted over the closed door of the sidecar and into family history. You don’t wanna end up just some faded, forgotten footnote in the family Bible, do you? Be an Aunt Lolita. Now, I DO have a few additional tips and ideas specifically tailored for the unique challenges of Christmas, like this fun game you can play with a cheapskate uncle who, in lieu of gifts, will hand out envelopes to the kiddies and then stand back and bask in the consciousness of his own philanthropy. Although these envelopes have only ever contained, and will never contain more than, a single dollar bill, quite a bit of merriment can be had when one prankster, upon unsealing his envelope and glimpsing the lonely simoleon within, gasps loudly and exclaims in the giddy tone of one who can’t believe his luck, Wow Uncle Hal, THANKS! A hundred dollar bill! Uncle Hal will instantly assume an ashy pallor with flecks of green, his mind flashing back to a fuzzy image of himself hunched over the kitchen table stuffing the envelopes earlier that very morning, and frantically trying to call to mind the fatal moment when he must’ve mistaken Ben Franklin for George Washington- as the rest of the gang laughs and laughs. But that treasure trove of Christmas mirth will have to wait til next year, gentle reader. Until then we'll have to muddle through somehow, because we need to have a talk about other Christmas stuff right now. Every year around the middle of November, certain events are invariably set into motion: people gripe that they start playing Christmas songs earlier and earlier every year and indeed, the first time you hear how all Mariah Carey wants for Christmas is some poor victim, you feel a deep soul bond with the Grinch and suddenly you totally GET him, now, after all these years. The retailers will, of course, throw Thanksgiving right under the bus and so far from encouraging families to pause and reflect on all the good things in their lives, they
commence frantically shrieking at you to get your ass out and buy more, all at ROCK BOTTOM LOW LOW LOW prices, available simply by joining an angry mob and flinging yourself wholeheartedly into a violent retail pillage that would make a crew of grog-fueled Vikings on shore leave shrink back in incredulous horror. This annual debacle that is our country’s national shame, a maniacal orgy of greed and utter loss of self-control, is of course Black Friday. One day Grams sits at the head of the bounteous feast, head bowed, her voice tremulous with love and gratitude as she breathes her prayer of thanks for the gift of everything she’ll ever need, and all she’s ever wanted, a good measure, pressed down, shaken together and running over, poured into her lap. Not twenty-four hours later- in fact, possibly later that same DAY, with so many stores shoving Black Friday all the back to Thanksgiving Thursday, ensuring that none of their poverty-wage slaves will even get a chance to grab a turkey sandwich from Subway by way of reflecting on all the blessings in their lives- that same sweet Grams who wept in humble gratitude for the God-given miracle of her life, will have gone viral by way of store video uploaded to youtube, which clearly shows her with one arm grimly clasping to her breast a toaster oven as if it’s the Ark of the Covenant while with the other she savagely rains down blows with the weaponized handle of a priceslashed Swiffer onto the cowering form of a hapless fellow shopper who’d unwittingly placed himself between Grams and the very last nubby vest left on a ravaged shelf, a sign reading ¡Fleece Navidad! fluttering in the breeze like the tattered remains of a battle flag. Also a fixture of late November, the annual spate of seasonal movies hits the screens, featuring those delightful perennial themes, like talking pets and their precocious tweenage owners teaming up to save Christmas after Santa’s sleigh is broadsided by a cement truck on Rte 4 out past the county line. And there’s usually a new offering, too, from Kirk Cameron or someone very like him, a heartwarmingly vapid flick about the inevitable evil atheist college professor with a name like Dr Solomon Abramowitz- nothing subtle here- sneeringly challenging a fresh-faced Midwestern student to prove that God exists, while all the East Coast liberal elites in the lecture hall snicker slyly at her down-home naïveté. Lately, too, when Yuletide rolls around each year, a handful of folks- prominent figures in Modern American Christianity, for instance, televangelists, politicians, political hangers-on from Alaska desperately trying to stay relevant- can be counted on to trot out the tired old narrative concerning the forces of Evil trying to stamp out Christianity by forcing believers to say Happy Holidays instead of Merry Christmas- just one of many weapons employed by the great army of godless liberals in their ongoing war on Christendom. ‘Don’t tell me I have to say Happy Holidays so nobody gets offended,” reads one social media post, clearly the work of a devout Christian engaged in God’s Work, “I will Merry Christmas the shit out of you!” In real life, of course, the phrase ‘happy holidays’ isn’t an anti-Christian dog whistle, nor is it intended as a replacement or diminishment of the traditional Christmas greeting at all- it’s merely an all-purpose salutation indicating recognition of and respect for the fact that there are a lot of holidays this time of year and you might not be aware which one your greetee celebrates, since it’s none of your business- there’s Thanksgiving and Christmas, yes, but also Hogmanay, Kwanzaa, Hanukkah, Las Posadas, Pancha Ganapati, Boxing Day, New Year, and Solstice- even Festivus, if that’s your bag. “Merry Christmas” is entirely appropriate when greeting the preacher of the Baptist church in the buffet line after Sunday service, but to Merry Christmas the shit out of a woman in a sari with a bindi dot on her forehead, or a guy wearing a black frock coat and yarmulke, with the beard of a Biblical patriarch and long, curly sidelockswhat on earth purpose does that serve in Jesus’ Great Commission to spread His message of love to all the people of the world?
And THAT, readers, is what I want to talk to you about right now. We’re doing something wrong you guys, we’re getting way off the track and we MUST come back to where we belong. And by “we”, I’m talking about Christians, I’m talking about those of us who really strive to live like Jesus, to put his teachings and his message to work in our own lives. Here’s this disclaimer, before we really get going: I do NOT want to wade into politics here, not at all, but it’s probably best to disclose my open secret to you readers so- my political affiliation might best be described as bleeding-heart, tree-hugging, hippie liberal. And a lotta people have this preconceived notion that liberals aren’t Christians, period, that the term ‘liberal Christian’ is a paradox. True story: Several years ago a friend posted to facebook a snapshot of a van with some kind of Democrat bumper sticker on it, and her caption at the top was something about how she’d gotten behind this van in the line leaving the parking lot of her mega-church after services, her tone rather indignant as she exclaimed what an oxymoron it was. Yup- THAT happened. And stuff like that happens all the time when you’re a Progressive Christian. I mean, have you ever heard the term ‘godless conservative’? Me either. There’s just this presumption that people like me don’t believe in God, are anti-religion, anti-faith, and just don’t get it. But that’s just not trueyou’ve just met a left-wing Christian, and it is I. And furthermore, I go to a progressive church that’s just TEEMING with people like me and so I’m telling you once & for all, like the Whos Horton discovered living on the speck: We are HERE! We are HERE! We are HERE! This whole thing needs to change, the way we let these things divide us, the way we’re Judgy Judgerton with each other, all of our this one’s not one of Us and that guy over there is clearly one of Them- YOU can’t worship with us and YOU don’t deserve the same rights as the rest of Us do, but listen to me, there IS no Us and Them. We need to forget all that stuff and really try to take to heart all the instructions and tips and advice and ‘hacks’ about how to live like Jesus- the same Bible we use to condemn our LGBTQ brothers and sisters and to condone taking children away from immigrant and refugee parents and incarcerating toddlers in prison camps, that same book has all this stuff to teach us about love and mercy, kindness and goodness. Look, here’s a thing Paul wrote about all this Us vs Them business: “There is neither Jew nor Gentile, neither slave nor free, nor is there male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus.” Just hear with your heart and your mind, soak up the spirit of that line- it doesn’t sound at all like an exhortation to Merry Christmas the shit out of anybody. And angry, militant Merry Christmasing doesn’t strike me as a real effective way to share the love of Jesus with ANYbody, does it to you? As for me, I went to church every Sunday of my life just about, I’m telling you, the Hagys were at church every time they opened the doors down there, but I didn’t have much personal interest in the proceedings. I mean you went, you recited the Lord’s Prayer, you sang the hymns when that was the next thing on the list, you popped up and sang the Doxology and the Gloria Patri like a Pavlovian response, you dozed through the sermon and then you went home. But when I was 19 years old, with a husband I hardly knew and my own tiny baby, I became friends with a lady I worked with, and there was this something different about her- you know how in cartoons (Charlie Brown comes to mind), how somebody walks around under their own personal raincloud wherever they go, well this friend, wherever she went, whatever she was facing, she always walked in her own personal sunshine, in her own little bubble of peace. There was a glow to her, a kind of serenity and calm, even when her circumstances were seriously messed up- and they were, in her life, when I knew her. She was loving and kind and positive, and in her presence I felt good too, and at peace. And I wanted some of that for myself. Turned out what she had was a
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relationship with the Living God- with Jesus. And that’s how it happened for me. What attracts people to want to know Jesus are what they see in his representatives walking around down here. Beating someone over the head with Merry Christmas will not ever make anyone ponder in their souls, Hmm, this Jesus, who is He whose love creates in his people such a sense of anger and bigotry, of inflexibility and aggressive defensiveness? You’re always hearing people declaring that “the US was founded according to Judeo-Christian principles,” but that’s not true. I’m a historian for Pete’s sake, and the fact is that those guys we call the Founding Fathers had seen enough of what a rigid adherence to a compulsory national religion could do, and has done, all throughout human history, and they wanted none of that in the nation they were birthing- their aim was a country in which every individual has the freedom to decide whom or how or where or even whether or not they worshipped. This is one of the most basic tenets of the foundation of this Great American Experiment- the founders were adamant about, as Thomas Jefferson coined it, a "wall of separation between church and state", and it’s written right into the First Amendment, which prohibits the government from encouraging, promoting, or establishing religion in any way. They strongly believed that other people’s ideas about God were simply nobody else’s business. “It does me no injury for my neighbor to say there are twenty gods or no god,” quoth Jefferson, “It neither picks my pocket nor breaks my leg.” John Adams, the second President of the United States, put it more succinctly still: “The government of the United States is not, in any sense, founded on the Christian religion.” But still, Christianity is the most practiced religion in the world today, representing one-third of the earth’s population. And in the US, that proportion is higher still, with around 68% of the population identifying as Christian. Yet the number of Christians in America has been declining every year for a while now- in just the five years from 83% of the US population in 2010 down to 70% by 2015. So what’s the problem? Is this the result of that fabled war on Christianity by liberal/Muslim/socialist forces with their relentless Happy Holidaying and their You can’t have that Ten Commandments thing on the courthouse square? Is it the much-bemoaned ‘political correctness’ that supposedly stamped out compulsory prayer in school, of Colin Kaepernick kneeling in silent protest of the disproportionate murder rate of people of color by the police? What’s going on here? The truth is, we’re not being attacked by outside forces. Of course we’re not. We Christians have more perks than any other faith in the world- have you ever seen anybody fighting to keep the Islamic counterpart of the Christian manger scene smack in the middle of the public square? No? That’s because none of us could even imagine a Muslim vignette depicting a scene from the Quran erected anywhere in the USA. Have you ever answered a knock at your front door and found a Buddhist missionary standing on your mat asking if you have a few minutes to talk about Buddha? No, but I’ll bet some of you guys have donated money to Christian missionaries all over the world, maybe even been on a mission trip to save souls yourself. My point is, as Christians we have the freedom to gather together to worship and to praise our God wherever and whenever we want, to tell others about Jesus, to proclaim our faith to the rooftops, to Merry Christmas the shit out of whoever we like. What we cannot do is to enshrine our beliefs in law. Because two and a half centuries ago, it happened by some alignment of the stars or by the will of God, that a group of men- mere human men, flawed and errant, yes, in conflict with each other and within themselves at times and wrestling with their own demons (a guy who owned two thousand human beings declared the selfevident truth that all men are created equal- how’s that for conflicted?)- came together at just the right moment
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in the world, and by some serendipitous alchemy they became something so much more than the sum of their parts. They established a nation under the authority of the Constitution, not the Bible, and they made sure to weave into the fabric of that nation the assurance that the government had no authority to encourage, promote, or establish religion in any way. And I don’t believe that allowing schoolkids to choose whether they pray or not, or disallowing religious monuments on public property, or people extending good wishes for the holidays, that any of those things has EVER turned anyone away from experiencing the love of God. No, the truth as I see it, is this- and yes, this is the part where I might lose you guys in droves, and be forced to fall back on facebook ranting for a living, but I still gotta speak it: The problem is us. The war on Christianity is being waged by those of us wearing the team jersey of Jesus Christ. Way back in middle school, I remember once when word of some band kids misbehaving during our snack break during the 3rd quarter of a Boerne Pups game, got back to our bandleader, Mr Kunz, and I remember the subsequent bawling out we got the Monday morning. And one thing he said has stuck with me all these many years since then, probably something a lot of leaders and coaches tell their teams: When you’re in that uniform, the way you conduct yourself reflects more than just you. When you wear that uniform, you’re representing me, you’re representing all of us, you’re representing this school. So are we doing, when we claim to be Christians. When we go to church, when we wear a cross around our necks and a WWJD bracelet and when we stick a Jesus fish on the back windshield of our car- when we post a Christian meme on our facebook page or beam out our thoughts and prayers after yet another slaughter- every time, we put on our Christian jersey, and we represent Jesus. Let your light shine before others, so that they will see the good things you do and praise your Father in heaven! You might be the only face of Jesus some people ever see. Check this out: On a Boerne social media group not too long ago, someone raised the topic of the homeless people who gather around the School Street/I10 area. A few folks defended the vagrants, but most people adding their two cents were just plain MAD. One fellow offered his own unique position, he said that if any of those people- if any of Them- came up to HIS car window to beg for money, They would soon discover that “This is a conservative Christian town”, and that “we all open carry”. WWJD? Probably not that. Less than a mile south of the place the wayfarers congregate, in fact on the southwest corner of the same intersection where the homeless people gather on the northeast side, there stands Boerne’s own Starbucks. Ok- I know I’ve dragged social media into this about fifty times already, but it’s 2018 and that’s how it is. A frequent offering on facebook is a post about how somebody in the drive-thru line of their local Starbucks gets up to the window and discovers that the car ahead of them has paid for their order. This is kind of a thing people do out in the world, and we all smile when we read of it happening, we all ‘like’ the post, and we gush in the comment section about wonderful random acts of kindness, about paying it forward. Now consider this: If you’ve pulled into the drive-thru at Starbucks and made your order, you must be carrying enough dough to pay for your stuff. I know that doesn’t necessarily mean you’re rolling in dough or that it doesn’t, or shouldn’t, warm your heart that some stranger picked up your tab, but it does seem to indicate that you’re not all that worried about where you’re gonna sleep that night, or whether you’ll have anything to eat. In Boerne, at least, there’s a pretty good probability you’re doing all right. But somewhere during that quick drive across the Highway 46 bridge to the other side of the highway, all that paying it forward gets sucked out the car window like a bit of scrap paper. On this side of the interstate, the only random act likely to be committed is a gun shoved into the face of a human being trying to scrape together the
price of a cup of coffee, and not even one from Starbucks. And just as someone might only ever see Christ in the good we do, that human being looking down the long barrel of a gun IS Jesus, who said that whatever we do for the least of his brothers and sisters, we do for him. Pink Floyd: Us (us, us, us) and Them. I used to be the kind of Christian who went to the kinds of Bible studies where you dissect passages in the Good Book, poring over the hidden meanings, poking between the lines, often tracing a word back to its Hebrew or Aramaic root. Then I stayed away from church for a long time, because as a liberal Democrat I was made to feel like I didn’t belong, as if, in order to be one of Them, I needed to tow the party line of a whole ‘nother party. And then I went into a coma, and woke up with a tracheostomy and a whole new way of seeing. All my life I’d had the same strong, black and white views, right and wrong, Us and Them- all along I thought I knew what it felt like to be Someone Else- how it was to be of African descent, to be Hispanic, to be gay- I prided myself on my discernment of their TRUE motives, and then I judged their actions and behavior according to what I firmly believed what I would do- “Well if he hadn’t resisted, they wouldn’t have shot him; Their moms are worried they’ll get shot every time they leave the house- HUH! Maybe if they’d teach them not to be criminals”- And so on- I had a mean, hard little spirit with very little compassion, I judged everything according to my own lights, without once looking at ANYTHING through the eyes of compassion, or love. And then I woke up from that coma, and something changed. Someone back in those days sat me down and talked to me like a Dutch uncle about how I was acting badly, angry and depressed and making such a big deal of having a trach, when I should be so grateful just to be alive- and I thought Yeah, but you don’t have a trach. How do you know how it feels to be me? How do you know how you would be in my place? Aha. A light bulb didn’t light up over my head- instead fireworks shot out of my ears, sirens went off, the Northern lights erupted and a stadium light blazed into my face. After that my whole ideology began to change, to become very, very simple. I still didn’t get a lot of things about God, like the Lot thing, how he was a good guy yet he offered to let the bad guys rape his daughters- yeah, and there’s a lotta stuff I can’t figure out, but the difference is, I don’t have to get it. This is what I hafta get, THIS is the one thing that’s crucial for me to know, if I know nothing else: “Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind. This is the first and most important commandment. And the second is like it. Love your neighbor as you love yourself. Everything that is written in the Law and the Prophets is based on these two commandments.” You know how many times Jesus talks about saying Happy Holidays? Do you know how many times he talks about gay people and how they shouldn’t be allowed the same rights as straight people? Wanna take a guess at how often he teaches that you can’t follow him if you believe in evolution? How many times he counsels us to openly carry a weapon in case someone asks you for spare change? Commands people to pull themselves up by their own bootstraps, tells poor folks it’s their own damn fault, get a job, other people shouldn’t hafta work so you can take your kid to the doctor, whaddya think I am, my brother’s keeper? But do you know how many times He talks about love? Over and over and over and over again- it’s like he’s obsessed with love, almost as if God IS love, and whoever lives in love lives in God, and God lives in them too. And he puts a how-to manual where his mouth is, too. Jesus, do I even have to love my enemies? Yup. What about sinners, shouldn’t I call them out on the stuff they’re doing that I as a Christian don’t agree with Love the sinner and hate the sin? Nah, Jesus says- I’ll get that. I don’t need you picking sawdust out of people’s eyes for me, you just
get that humongoid thing out of your own eye- eewww dude, what IS that?- then get back to just loving folks. Er, Jesus, love our neighbors? You mean the people in my neighborhood? People like me? People in my income bracket? People from my same country? Jesus: Listen to this story about a hated foreigner who found a guy, an enemy of his people, all beat up in a ditch and he saved the guy’s life. What do you think? Who’s your neighbor? But Jesus, dude, what about people who are breaking a law that says being a refugee makes them a criminal? What about foreigners we don’t even know, flooding into our country, what if they’re dangerous, what if they take our jobs? Jesus: Whenever you help any of those people, whenever you visit them in prison even, any one of my children, my brothers and sisters, no matter how poor, how sad, how sick or weak or helpless or lowly, that’s Me. No matter who they are, taking care of them is taking care of me, you’re doing it for me, for Jesus. And by the way, all these fears, oy! Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life? Man! I TOLD you guys, if my dad cares so much even for little birds, how much do you suppose he loves YOU, don’t you think he’ll take care of you? You guys, Jesus says, I keep telling you to love one another, to love your neighbor, to love God with all your heart and soul and mind- and I’m telling you, perfect love casts out fear. Nobody’s sabotaging us you guys. We’re doing it to ourselves. If those same people who are watching us now condoning all kinds of horrible things, hearing prominent Chrstians use the Bible to what’s happening to the little children and their poor, poor mothers, who’ve risked EVERYTHING they’ve ever had just to try to get their babies to safety, something every one of us would do- all those people who are watching us Christians as we support criminalizing thousands of people fleeing with their children from sure death and torture, fleeing with the clothes on their backs, walking barefoot across a continent looking for somewhere they can be safe, looking for some piece of land on the earth to which they can stick their feet, because gravity requires that they have to have SOMEWHERE to belong in the world. If people instead saw us doing what Jesus would do- if the world saw us putting the love Jesus taught us into action andlike the father of the prodigal son when he first glimpsed his boy way out on the road- going out to meet people where they are and giving them water and food and shelter and love and hope- if they saw all the people who wear the team uniform doing what He taught us to do over and over and over again- if they could all see Jesus in us, in our actions and in our words and in our faces and in our LOVE- then they might want some of what we have. Then they might want to know who this Jesus is too. A guy named Kurt Kaiser died last week- he was the one who wrote a song we all sang at camp and in every youth choir at every “contemporary” service, and around every campfire in America in the 70s, and still I hadn’t thought of it for years until Mr Kaiser’s death. It only takes a spark to get a fire going And soon all those around can warm up to its glowing. That's how it is with God's love Once you've experienced it You spread your love to everyone You want to pass it on This Christmas, try it. See what happens when you share God’s love with everyone. Let’s go out and pass it on. By the way, nothing I ever write necessarily reflects the views or opinions or ideologies of anybody else associated with The Explore: this is me- flawed, stumbling, nontheologically-educated Marj, trying but falling short all the time- still trying to figure it out- to put into practice in my own life the love that Jesus taught and lived, the love that He IS. This is just me, clumsily striving to live in the light. Peace to you all this season of love.
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SPIRITUAL
ALONE WITH GOD By Kendall D. Aaron
S
“Some journeys can be only traveled alone.” – Ken Poirot
A few years ago I went on a solitary camping trip. I loaded up my dog, some cold beverages and a small duffel bag and spent 4 nights sitting by campfire next to the Frio River. It was January, and was cold so the campground was literally completely vacant. I had the whole place to myself. It was absolute silence. All I heard was the crackling of the fire that I kept going all day and night, and the sound of the water via the rapids a few yards away. Oh, and birds. I enjoyed the sound of the birds. I sat out there with nothing but a guitar and free time. I would go on little hikes, and would try my hand at some fishing, but every Texan knows you can’t catch anything in the Frio cause the fish can see you before you see them. But I walked, and daydreamed, and spent countless hours in my own mind and heart. It was perhaps the most enjoyable trip I have ever taken, because here it is probably 12 years later and I’m still talking about it. I remember that I stumbled once on a trail and muttered “Dang it!” and I startled myself as the sound of my own voice seemed loud and out of place. I realized that I hadn’t heard a single voice in 4 days. It was both weird… and awesome. Being alone is something that we don’t do very often in our modern times. Yes, we might have a Saturday to ourselves as the wife and kids are gone, but we still have our friends. And neighbors. And Fox News screaming at us on the TV. And we still watch the football game, and surf the net, and a countless other things that engage us on every level. We are very, very rarely completely isolated and alone without any opportunity to be around people.
I’m sure that I’m not the only one that might try to say their morning prayers and catches themselves stopping mid prayer only to realize that you were thinking about that meeting you have at 11am today, or the things that your wife does that make you a little nuts, or the trouble that your kid is in at school. Your brain and heart drift from God onto more mundane and earthly issues of importance for the day. You do that when you’re on a solitary camping trip also, but when you have almost unlimited time quiet and alone, you eventually run out of topics to distract yourself and you ultimately find……God. Yes, I sat out there staring at a fire and thought about that big work project coming up soon, but I eventually found myself wholly focused on and talking to God. And yes, He talks to you when you’re alone. REALLY alone. Quiet and alone. You hear Him in the trees, and in that silly bird and in the wooshing waters. Your heart refocuses a little and the volume gets turned down in your head and suddenly you start hearing the voice of The One that you seek. No, you don’t have to go on a 4 day camping trip if time doesn’t allow, though you should make it work somehow. Even if you’re simply home alone for a weekend or so, you can do this little exercise. Unplug the TV, turn off your phone (don’t just mute it), no radio, no……anything. Simply sit and BE. God tells us in a zillion different verses of the Bible about how to be quiet and seek Him. He talks about distractions and losing them and not worrying and simply focusing all of our energies on Him. Perhaps my whole point is that I’m no good at quieting the screaming voices of work and family and life in my mind, so talking to God is not easy for me. It took 4 days by the Frio River for me to find him. Maybe you don’t have to go to such an extreme, but be honest with yourself and do what you need to do. I’ve been to Cozumel a few times, Florida, New York, Boston, California, and in darn near every county in Texas in my travels. But the one trip I talk about most frequently is that silly solitary camping trip I took to the Frio.
You should do it soon. Let me tell you what happens when nobody is around, and there is no distraction to engage your mind or heart: You talk to the only person you can talk to: GOD.
It was a great trip, but not because of the itinerary, the activities, or the great 5-star food I enjoyed. It was because, I literally found God. May you find him in 2019.
You sit out there under a tree and after you’re done daydreaming about where you want to go on summer vacation, you sort of run out of topics to run through your mind and you just start thinking about bigger things, such as your life, and your purpose, and your God. This is a very good thing.
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OLD TIMER EVERYTHING THAT IS WRONG WITH TEENAGERS
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As I enjoyed my evening bourbon the other night, I realized that I think babyboomers are knuckleheads. Then I thought about how they think their Gen X kids are bums. They in turn believe Millennials to be snowflakes. I suppose the cycle will never end. That said, I’m of the Greatest Generation, which means that… well….I’m pretty great. As for the rest of you, I’ve got problems with all of you. None more than today’s teenagers, though. God, they aggravate me. So as I sip my bourbon, I’m going to put on my cranky old man hat and tell you Gen X people how to fix your Millennial kids. you need to know are YESSIR. That’s it. No matter what they ask you do, that’s your answer.” The job wasn’t sexy, but it was a job and I made money and I learned quickly that working 10 hours on your feet is not easy. YOUR kid hasn’t worked 10 hours straight in their entire lives. Want to know why Milennials get a bad rap? It’s because they enter their 20s without so much as an ounce of work ethic. FIX THAT. Kick Junior out and tell him that since he has a car, he must pay for insurance and gas, which requires a job. And tell him that if he gets fired or quits, the car can be parked until he finds a new job. Or even worse, tell him that you’re going to drive his car on your commute every day until he gets a new job. He might lose his mind at this prospect.
PHONES If you can’t see that your kid is fast becoming a drooling moron that stares at their phones for upwards of 16 hours a day, then you are hopeless. My grandkids won’t bring their friends around much because when they do, I try to say something to one of them, and I can’t get them to look at me while I’m talking, so I whomp them on the back of the head which hurts their feelings. It’s better than grabbing their god-forsaken phone and pounding it into the cement like I want to. Define the time that your kid can play on their phone. An hour or so in the evening and that’s it. That applies to you as well, Mom. That’s a whole other topic, ladies. JOBS Kids out here (generally speaking) come from uppermiddle-class households. I think the average family income around here is something like $150k/year which makes you RICH to me, but it’s not cheap to live out here, so I guess that much salary makes you “comfortable”. Know who should NOT be comfortable? Your spoiled, lazy kid. I had a job at 14 bagging groceries. My dad told me I had one job to do at my new job: “The only words
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COURTESY People sometimes want to throat punch Milennials because they’re mouthy little pricks and the remedy to this mainly is going to fall to you Dads out there. When I walk into the Dodging Duck for a beer, hold the freaking door open for me. If you see your kid not doing that, a swift kick in the ass is in order. When someone talks to your kid, you should only hear the words “No sir, Yes sir” repeated again and again. If they don’t, swift kick in the ass. When your kid struggles in a class or sport, do NOT let them whine about the coach or teacher. If they do, foot to the ass. Teach them to overcome the situation, not cry about it. It’s just little things – look people in the eye. Hold doors open. Help people. Speak respectfully. I hate to tell you guys this, but if you don’t kick them in the ass about it, most of them won’t do it. Step up to the plate, parents. If you don’t, their first boss will make short work of them. APPEARANCE When my kids hit their teen years, it was James Dean in the movies with cigarette smoking, rolled sleeves on white shirts, and boots. Then their kids went into the whole 80’s madness with neon everything and parachute pants. Now Milennials are prancing around in tight jeans and floppy hair. Does it look stupid? Yup. Is it anything different than what my parents said about me, and what I said about my own kids? Nope. This one is easy to fix – remember that job that Junior has to get? Well, they’re going to have a policy manual that is going to force him to cut his hair, wear particular clothes, and shave. He doesn’t like it? Oh
well, the car just got parked. If it were me, I’d be strategic about it where he got a job at the Cypress Grille (or something similar) where all the employees must wear black pants, white dress shirts and focus on customer service. Mission accomplished. You’ll enjoy your Saturday evening bourbon a lot more as you watch Junior walk out the door dressed nicely to head to his job.
and others, and to take the necessary action to stop the problem…we’d not have kids freaking out and shooting up schools. It’s really no wonder it doesn’t happen more often – violence is inherent in human nature and you will never stop it. Instead, you must shape it into right and wrong and teach kids how to use it. The ones that shoot up schools are simply left with no outlet for violence and no concept of the consequence. Hell, the whole movie Back to The Future is based on a guy standing up for himself and his girl and punching the bully. And we all cheered. Can you imagine if the final scene is Marty McFly rushing off for the asshole principal to come save him? Lame. We took 18 year old kids in WWII, gave them a gun, and had them storm Normandy. Nowadays our kids are terrified of their own shadows, and have learned that it’s someone else’s job to fix their problem. Give your kids the instruction for how to properly dispatch a threat, and watch them grow the self-confidence necessary to survive the world.
DRIVING Again, I’m going to admit that every teenager since the dawn of the automobile has sucked at driving. I get that they’re going to have fender benders and speeding tickets, but I see so many of them that show such little regard for others. Cutting you off. Swerving through traffic. That type of stuff chaps me. Don’t act like you can drive well when you’ve been driving for about a week, Junior. If I were raising kids now, I’d watch the news for a horrific crash that claims a teen’s life. An awful thing to look for on the news, but stay with me. I would find the funeral info for that kid and drag my young driver down to the service. I would tell him/her before going in to watch the parents of the teen and all of his friends. We would then have a long talk afterward about how one stupid stunt in a car and that’s YOUR funeral. That’ll be a dose of cold water to the face. Oh, and I’d have one of those new-fangled GPS apps on my phone so that I could bust him/her everytime they come home for speeding. So glad they didn’t have those when I was kid. One time, I drag raced on Main Street and….well, moving on. BULLYING This is both the school’s fault but also falls on you parents. We all know bullying is terrible, and yes, it’s worse than it used to be. It’s the RESPONSE that is not helping the situation. My dad told me once “Never throw the first punch, but always throw the last one.” Today a fist fight ends with legal troubles. Quit being a wuss and expecting your kid to be anything but a wuss. Look, if your kid is being bullied, teach him/her to stand up to it. That’s Lesson #1. Then explain that if the bully doesn’t stop, it’s your time to become confrontational. Then when the bully pushes you, knock his freaking lights out. Yes, many of you just gasped, and I don’t care. I can still remember with absolute clarity some of the fist fights I’ve had over the years. The thing is, they were all for noble reasons (protecting myself or someone else) and they shaped me into who I am. You guys are raising kids that get bullied and are then told to run to someone to fix their problem. Then you go online and post about how you’re going to kick the crap out of the other parent if they don’t stop. STOP. Instead, if we taught kids to stand up for themselves
MILITARY This applies across all generations and should be written into our Constitution. Every kid in the US, upon graduation from high school, must enlist in the military for a mandatory 2 years of service. Every. Single. One. Of. Them. I don’t care who is President, if we’re at war or not, or if you are a card carrying member of GreenPeace. Send your precious little angel off to the military for 2 years, and you will be returned a fully grown, fully matured, fully respectful man or woman. They will have served their country, learned about respect and procedure, and will understand and value human life, respect for our Veterans, and will be fully involved in politics as they will understand that starting a war is no small thing, nor is sending young men and women to fight that war. I should run for President on this very platform. Wait, I’d lose in a landslide as California, Austin, and the Northeast would faint at the prospect. I’m not done, but my fingers are tired from typing so I’m going to go get another bourbon and do something else for a while. My whole point to this column: your kids are just that, kids. TEACH them things about how to live, and show them by living the same. Heck, these Milennial kids I’m bitching about are being raised by people that grew up with no phones, playing outside, Ronnie Reagan as President, and no internet. You have no excuses, Mom and Dad. Suck it up.
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COMPREHENSIVE EYE EXAMINATIONS EYE CARE DIAGNOSIS AND TREATMENT Jennifer Johnson has dreamed of becoming an optometrist since she was in middle school, and through hard work and determination, she made her dream come true.
Jennifer L. Johnson, OD, FAAO Therapeutic Optometrist Optometric Glaucoma Specialist
Jennifer Jeanes
Eye Care Technician
personal relationships with members of the community. While working as part of the Boerne Vision Center team, she began participating in, and graduated from, “Leadership Boerne,” which is sponsored by the Boerne Chamber of Commerce. In addition, she joined the Board of the Rainbow Senior Center at the Kronkosky Place in 2012 and was named Boerne Business Woman of the year in 2015.
At the young age of four, Jennifer was diagnosed with accommodative esotropia and hyperopia, and was prescribed her first pair of eyeglasses and began engaging After more than 17 years of practicing optometry and in vision therapy. It was during this phase of her life that gaining experience in various areas of eye and vision she was introduced to a whole new visual world, and care, under the supervision of talented mentors and began developing her passion for optometry. experienced optometry professionals, Jennifer decided it Jennifer attended Stephen F. Austin State University (SFA), was time to realize her dream of owning and operating her own practice. After consulting God through prayer, and where she successfully completed the pre-professional her family, in August of 2017, Jennifer Johnson founded program in 1996. During her time at SFA, she worked as Johnson Eye Care in Boerne, Texas. an optometric technician for four years, which is where she learned all aspects of running an optometry practice. Upon graduating from SFA, she was accepted to Southern In addition to serving the Fair Oaks and Boerne community as a talented optometrist, Jennifer is also College of Optometry (SCO), in Memphis, Tennessee, married to Dr. Michael Johnson, who was also her high where she graduated with honors in 2000. She then moved to San Antonio and started practicing on the south school sweetheart. Together, they have two amazing daughters, Cate and Grace. The Johnson family lives in side of town in a multi-specialty eye clinic. the Fair Oaks Ranch community, where they are active members of First United Methodist Church of Boerne, and Missing her small-town roots and dreaming of practicing serve the community through various ministries. Cate and within a familiar, close knit community, she and her family moved to Boerne, Texas in 2009. In 2011, Jennifer joined the Grace enjoy participating in many of the weekly children’s and youth programs at their church. staff at Boerne Vision Center, where she established close
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ANATOMY OF AN
Ugly Christmas Sweater Everyone, even people who may not celebrate Christmas, can appreciate a truly appalling Christmas sweater. You may have even participated in an “Ugly Christmas Sweater” contest at work. We at EXPLORE thought we’d compile a list of what makes a sweater truly an UGLY sweater. As we found, there are many iterations of this concept, but so many are lazy and bad. Here are the things we found that are necessary for ugly sweater glory.
SHINY Plastic garland or even actual tinsel is a good place to start. You should never ask “Should I put this on my sweater.” The real question is “How much can I put on before I become a fire hazard.”
ACTUAL ORNAMENTS If you can take your sweater off and hang it on your Christmas tree, and it blends in seamlessly, then you’re on the right track.
LIGHTS This, above all else is the essential ingredient to a truly infamous ugly Christmas sweater. If your sweater doesn’t need its own power supply, then you haven’t taken that final step to make it truly “next level”.
DISHONORABLE MENTION Simply printing things on a sweater/sweatshirt isn’t enough to make it into the holiday hall of fame of horrible. However, we have to give props to the person who came up with this little number. In researching this piece we found innumerable examples of BAD Christmas sweaters. They were unimaginative and uninspiring with quotes and bad graphics. This one was truly a diamond in the rough. Though we’re not fans of the ornament nipple piercings, the color and hairy gut made us do a double take. Take a moment and marvel at its awfulness.
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HANDMADE ELEMENTS The point of an ugly sweater is to make it just that, ugly. So if you cover yourself in store bought embellishments, you run the risk of making the sweater look too polished. It can be time consuming, but it’s necessary. Bonus points for
Host your next wedding, corporate event, family reunion, or birthday in the beautiful hill country. Open Air Pavilion & Saloon For Events | Daily & Weekly Cabin Rentals | Live Music
Cabins equipped with 1 bedroom, kitchenette & loft Cabins On Event Venue Site BBQ Pits
6005 W. Ammann Road Boerne, TX 78163 830-336-4223 www.stargazer-ranch.com
10 minutes to boerne | 20 minutes to IH 10 | 15 minutes to Bulverde | Minutes to Fair Oaks Ranch