Ale for the Soul

Hooray for books and bookstores!  Of course there is nothing wrong with major chains, but the independent retailer seems more intimate.  This is especially true when I am a regular customer, as a more personal relationship is developed and maintained.  There are a few bookstores I frequent in Fort Worth, but my favorite is Half Price Book Barn on Hemphill Street.  (This store is not to become confused with the privately-owned chain of Half Price Books.)  A mom and daughter own and operate this boutique shop, and I thoroughly enjoy spending part of my day sifting through the stacks of books they offer for sale.  When I mention "stacks of books," this is literally true.  Upon entering the front door, a person may get immediately overwhelmed on where and how to begin the search for that particular title.  I absolutely love it as I feel as if I am hunting for treasure and that hidden gem waiting to be discovered.  To be honest, I don't frequent this establishment all that oft

Kind solace in a dying hour! Such, father, is not (now) my theme- I will not madly deem that power Of Earth may shrive me of the sin Unearthly pride hath revell'd in- I have no time to dote or dream: You call it hope- that fire of fire! It is but agony of desire: If I can hope- Oh God! I can- Its fount is holier- more divine- I would not call thee fool, old man, But such is not a gift of thine. Know thou the secret of a spirit Bow'd from its wild pride into shame. O yearning heart! I did inherit Thy withering portion with the fame, The searing glory which hath shone Amid the jewels of my throne, Halo of Hell! and with a pain Not Hell shall make me fear again- O craving heart, for the lost flowers And sunshine of my summer hours! The undying voice of that dead time, With its interminable chime, Rings, in the spirit of a spell, Upon thy emptiness- a knell. I have not always been as now: The fever'd diadem on my brow I claim'd and won usurpingly- Hath not the same fierce h

Ah, broken is the golden bowl! the spirit flown forever! Let the bell toll!- a saintly soul floats on the Stygian river; And, Guy de Vere, hast thou no tear?- weep now or nevermore! See! on yon drear and rigid bier low lies thy love, Lenore! Come! let the burial rite be read- the funeral song be sung!- An anthem for the queenliest dead that ever died so young- A dirge for her the doubly dead in that she died so young. "Wretches! ye loved her for her wealth and hated her for her pride, And when she fell in feeble health, ye blessed her- that she died! How shall the ritual, then, be read?- the requiem how be sung By you- by yours, the evil eye,- by yours, the slanderous tongue That did to death the innocence that died, and died so young?" Peccavimus; but rave not thus! and let a Sabbath song Go up to God so solemnly the dead may feel no wrong. The sweet Lenore hath "gone before," with Hope, that flew beside, Leaving thee wild for the dear child that should have been t

This holiday is a new one for me as I've never seen it before.  Each and every day I try to think of blessings to become grateful for, today is especially the case.  It truly is a Thank You Thursday .  In getting an early start at work this morning, I was able to finish up at two o'clock this afternoon.  This is almost like getting half a day off from work.  Then my supervisor called to see if I wanted to pick up some extra hours on Saturday.  Of course I said yes!  Since arriving back at the apartment, I have been enjoying the cool, windy weather by having the windows open.  In addition, I am enjoying a cup of Earl Grey hot tea while smoking a cigar.  Last week, a friend blessed me with a beautiful Savoy cigar humidor.  On Saturday I travelled to the Tobacco Lane on the Square in Weatherford in order to stock the new addition to my residence.  Now I can simply reach in for a cigar whenever I want one.  I am no longer dependent on driving to Spec's for a smoke, unless I nee

If I had my way, I must admit If I called every play of the game I'd pray for good times, blue sky and sunshine And I'd avoid with a passion any pain But with every blow from an angry wind And with every dark shadow that falls There's a better view up around the bend Where this puzzle makes some sense after all Mistakes and misfortunes will come and go For you to try and still fail is no disgrace Sometimes a rough and rocky road Is gonna take you to a beautiful place Is there anyone out there looking back through you faith That can deny that your Father knows what's best Oh but at the time and place for the life of you You saw no reason, no good for the test But now remembering as you watched His hand Put the color to your black and white dreams Maybe one more time past what you can see Oh the trouble of the moment ain't as bad as it seems Sometimes the unspoiled beauty of the wisdom of God Is lying there in the wilderness Up there beyond the easy reach Where the jo

Whose woods these are I think I know.    His house is in the village though;    He will not see me stopping here    To watch his woods fill up with snow.    My little horse must think it queer    To stop without a farmhouse near    Between the woods and frozen lake    The darkest evening of the year.    He gives his harness bells a shake    To ask if there is some mistake.    The only other sound’s the sweep    Of easy wind and downy flake.    The woods are lovely, dark and deep,    But I have promises to keep,    And miles to go before I sleep,    And miles to go before I sleep.

The Soul has Bandaged moments – When too appalled to stir – She feels some ghastly Fright come up And stop to look at her – Salute her, with long fingers – Caress her freezing hair – Sip, Goblin, from the very lips The Lover – hovered – o’er – Unworthy, that a thought so mean Accost a Theme – so – fair ­– The soul has moments of escape – When bursting all the doors – She dances like a Bomb, abroad, And swings opon the Hours, As do the Bee – delirious borne – Long Dungeoned from his Rose – Touch Liberty – then know no more, But Noon, and Paradise – The Soul’s retaken moments – When, Felon led along, With shackles on the plumed feet, And staples, in the song, The Horror welcomes her, again, These, are not brayed of Tongue –

Seems like there has been an emphasis on books and reading this past week.  Maybe the holiday makers are finally beginning to realize literacy is the backbone of success in life.  Today is World Book and Copyright Day, along with World Book Night.  I am always reading, whether it is my current book and magazine, or simply whatever happens to be in front of me.  Of course the ability to read is important, but the crucial element of it all is a retention and working understanding of the material at-hand.  If I don't understand the content of what I am reading, I am simply repeating words on a page and therefore wasting my time.  Make an effort to slow down enough to fully take in what the author is conveying.  I'm sure the individual isn't writing something to hear himself "speak", so "listen" and understand to what he or she has to say.  Yes, reading is a two-way street.  I have a fairly good-sized library in my apartment, and I am continually adding to i

Happy Earth Day!  Roughly forty plus years ago, a United State's Senator kicked off the very first Earth Day.  The day may not have been officially called that at first, but the essence of the holiday was instituted.  Today it is the mantra of every tree-hugger and environmentalist alive.  I say that in a somewhat condescending manner, but only because anything can get blown out of proportion and radicalized.  I, for one, firmly believe in living as a responsible steward of the resources and treasures entrusted to me.  Even living in an apartment complex, I weekly collect litter in the neighborhood and diligently drop off recyclables in the nearest collection bin at a school located a few blocks away.  This behavior and resulting action(s) are carefully balanced with reason and logic.  I don't demand others to follow suit, but I do hope my lifestyle sets the example for others to follow.  If and when I should ever again get lucky enough to live in a house, I do have the desire

These obscure holidays are rather fun, as well as interesting.  Today is: Thank You For Libraries Day , Big Word Day , Day of Silence , and National Tea Day .  (All of which are loosely inter-related.)  In the modern technological age, a library doesn't have to stay static within the vision of a government sponsored entity storing massive amounts of books, magazines, and card catalogs located somewhere down the street.  A library could form on the computer under a file containing digitally downloaded articles and books.  Or I could simply build my own physical library at the place of residence I call home.  However you choose to start and grow a library, it becomes very personal.  Even though I do have quite the library in the apartment, I also have a multitude of library cards ranging from Houston to Austin, from Victoria to Fort Worth, and everywhere in between.  The argument may be made libraries are becoming obsolete with the advent of the Internet, but, for old-school research

Captive on my Code-A-Phone was a voice that spread like light, He reminds me of a mistake I used to call, “Baby”, And I ate it up like an ice cream cone and willed him to be right, And built a dream on a string of “ifs” and “maybes”. But inside there is no peace, My head yells, “Run,” My heart cries, “Stay,” Who can I believe? When the house divides against itself the wrecking ball will soon prevail, Still I look for love on the mainline, oh. He lives rent-free inside my head, my heart he owns outright, Those lines are down and humming like livewires, Still I search for common threads and I long for black and white, Does wisdom ever dovetail desire? And my heart insists that he’s the only one, While the endless loop inside my head says, “You know he is wrong.” When the house divides against itself the wrecking ball will soon prevail, Still I look for love on the mainline, I have wasted too much time trying to bridge the gap between heart and mind, When the signs say very clearly: “Bro

April 15th to April 23rd is National Parks Week , and I couldn't be more excited about the commemoration.  As an avid camper, even though I haven't been in a while, I absolutely love the outdoors.  Almighty God created this vast Earth for our stewardship and care, and it is the responsibility of humanity to pass this treasure on to the next generation.  Thankfully I have been to quite a few State Parks and National Forests over the years.  A few of my favorites include: Mission Tejas (East Texas), Lake Mineral Wells (D/FW), Blue Water Canyon (Grants, New Mexico), and Bryce Canyon (Utah).  Naturally there are those I like more than others, but every state park is a gold mine of experience waiting to happen.  Whether you are a novice or seasoned traveller, I highly recommend subscribing to two periodicals: Texas Highways and Texas Parks and Wildlife .  Both will provide greater insight in to what Texas has in store for your enjoyment.  In addition to National Parks Week , tod

Listen, my children, and you shall hear Of the midnight ride of Paul Revere, On the eighteenth of April, in Seventy-five; Hardly a man is now alive Who remembers that famous day and year. He said to his friend, "If the British march By land or sea from the town to-night, Hang a lantern aloft in the belfry arch Of the North Church tower as a signal light,-- One, if by land, and two, if by sea; And I on the opposite shore will be, Ready to ride and spread the alarm Through every Middlesex village and farm For the country folk to be up and to arm." Then he said, "Good night!" and with muffled oar Silently rowed to the Charlestown shore, Just as the moon rose over the bay, Where swinging wide at her moorings lay The Somerset, British man-of-war; A phantom ship, with each mast and spar Across the moon like a prison bar, And a huge black hulk, that was magnified By its own reflection in the tide. Meanwhile, his friend, through alley and street, W

Oh Lord, you're beautiful Your face is all I seek And when your eyes are on this child Your grace abounds to me I want to take your word and shine it all around But first help me just to live it Lord And when I'm doing well, help me to never seek a crown For my reward is giving glory to you Oh Lord, you're beautiful Your face is all I seek And when your eyes are on this child Your grace abounds to me

Hear the bells ringing They're singing that you can be born again Hear the bells ringing They're singing Christ is risen from the dead The angel up on the tombstone Said He has risen, just as He said Quickly now, go tell his disciples That Jesus Christ is no longer dead Joy to the word, He has risen, hallelujah He's risen, hallelujah He's risen, hallelujah Hear the bells ringing They're singing that you can be healed right now Hear the bells ringing, they're singing Christ, He will reveal it now The angels, they all surround us And they are ministering Jesus' power Quickly now, reach out and receive it For this could be your glorious hour Joy to the world, He has risen, hallelujah He's risen, hallelujah He's risen, hallelujah, hallelujah The angel up on the tombstone Said He has risen, just as He said Quickly now, go tell his disciples That Jesus Christ is no longer dead Joy to the world, He has risen, hallelujah He's risen, hallelujah He's r

Earlier this week I had to walk from downtown to my apartment, roughly three miles from point A to point B.  (The reasons for having to do so were mentioned in a previous post, so I won't re-hash them at this time.)  Thankfully it was a beautiful day for such a walk: overcast weather with a great breeze blowing.  In taking the shortest, most direct route I knew of, I came across an underpass with pedestrian access on either side.  At night, these enclaves are bastions of people steeped in vagrancy and profligacy.  Only a fool with a death wish would attempt to pass through this den of potential violence and assault on civilization.  However, during the mid-morning hours, I figured the vagabond camps had disbanded for the day and I could enter to cross to the other side unmolested.  Surprisingly, I found the "tunnels" rather clean but not very well lit.  In fact, I took a few pictures.  (Are you surprised?)  Places like this underpass can also be found in other spots ar

In spite of the negative implications this obscure holiday portrays, today was actually pretty good.  The previous few weeks have been stressful, but I believe today saw the resolution of all that.  With the added workload and the vehicle spending time at the mechanic, I handled everything with style, class, and lots of determination.  Today still brought a few obstacles, such as technical difficulties with the scanner and having to work on a Saturday; however, I simply placed my hand to the plow and plodded forward.  In addition, I began the day with a free full-body massage at the south campus of Tarrant County College.  Their massage therapy clinic is top notch, and their students are well-trained in the art.  If you live in the area, they are worth checking out.  I ended the day at Paladin Cigars smoking a stogie and hanging out with the regulars.  Now I am at the apartment very much looking forward to three wonderful days off from work.  In a few minutes, I'll enjoy a cup of E

It is a dimension as vast as space and as timeless as infinity. It is the middle ground between light and shadow, between science and superstition, and it lies between the pit of man's fears and the summit of his knowledge. This is the dimension of imagination. It is an area which we call  the Twilight Zone . By mid-afternoon, I felt as if I was living an episode of life right out of the Twilight Zone.  Having not heard from the mechanic on the progress of the repairs, I attempted to rent another car so I could report to work at Noon.  That wasn't in the cards as Enterprise didn't have any stock on hand to do so, in spite of my reservation.  (Then what's the point of making reservations?  I'm still convinced this world system has totally abandoned all reason and logic.)  So I contacted my work supervisor to apprise her of the situation, and then a call was made to the mechanic's shop.  Six hours later, I am finally made aware the vehicle was ready for pick

Tomorrow begins another set of three days in which I work for TNG, and my vehicle still isn't ready at the mechanic shop.  Unfortunately, this means I'll have to rent another car till the end of the week.  Unless tomorrow morning, by some miracle, the mechanic should call telling me the truck is ready.  With my luck, I doubt this will happen.  Since there isn't anything I can do about it, I'm trying to make the best of the situation.  It is all out of my control.  So what point is there in getting pissed off?  It's only money, right?  Yeah, money I don't have.  I must remain thankful I do have a vehicle, which needs repair from time to time, and a job to pay for the bill, if not all at once.  Ha!  As a result of everything happening to me, today was another day on the bicycle.  As I was cruising around town, I expressed a heart-felt prayer of gratitude for the strong legs God has blessed me with and the good exercise I was receiving.  Of course, while I wa

The ability to write, effective communication and storytelling, is the backbone of personal growth and enrichment.  Intellectually speaking, writing develops analytical skills and forethought, along with providing an outlet for promoting mental and emotional health.  People who are skilled at conveying thoughts and the essence of surrounding activity, are not simply linear thinkers, but also those who can see what else is at stake.  Events in history are not isolated incidents, but usually are the result of social forces and also have a forward rippling effect, affecting society as a whole and individually.  History and literature are symbiotically intertwined.  One cannot be had without the other.  I firmly believe history gives birth to literature, and, in the fullness of time, literature produces creative forces driving history forward at breakneck speeds.  For example, the science-fiction of ages past is the modern technology of today.  (Think H.G. Wells and Jules Verne.)  Today is

The Salvation Army was founded by William Booth in England in the year 1865.  Deeply passionate about his relationship with the Lord Jesus Christ, he preached the gospel to what the world, at the time and even now, consider the down and out...the hopeless cast-offs of mainstream society.  For Booth, no one was beyond the hope and love of Jesus: every one was an individual to be treated with dignity and love, a person of worth.  Today, the mission and purpose of the Salvation Army continues.  In both urban centers and rural America, the Salvation Army has far-reaching influence.  If anything resembles the hands and feet of the Lord Jesus and his Great Commission, it is the Salvation Army.  Not only do I know about this great organization, but also do I have direct personal experience with them.  In the early to mid-2000's, I succumbed to hard times and became "house-less".  It was at this time I sought the help of the Salvation Army in Victoria, Texas.  They didn't ask

Turning in the rental car a few minutes of eight o'clock this morning, I recognized the reality of getting along on foot till my truck is ready at the shop.  Yes, the vehicle is still under the loving care of the mechanic.  Once I was unencumbered by the rental, I decided to take advantage of walking through downtown Fort Worth.  Even though I don't like living in this city, generally speaking, I have always enjoyed hanging out downtown.  This is mainly because of the history so readily available for those who pay attention to their surroundings.  First, I read about the black community's positive impact on the formation and social evolution of Fort Worth.  These historical snapshots can be viewed through a set of murals at the Intermodal Transportation Center.  Then I strolled through downtown on my way to the coffee shop, Buon Giorno.  On the way there, I came across the former First National Bank building, which now houses part of XTO Energy.  There were a few oth

When I worked at the cigar shop in downtown, this holiday would have been great.  Now it is impractical considering the job I currently have.  Most of my stores are anywhere from fifteen to thirty miles away, which makes walking out of the question.  However, I get plenty of walking and exercise while at work.  Does that count?!  Walking is a great form of exercise simply because it is low-impact and usually entails getting fresh air outdoors.  In the midst of the type of work I perform, not only do I accomplish a lot of walking but also squat and stretch alot.  At some point, I probably need to measure how many steps I take and the amount of miles that equates too.  Regardless, I recognize how physical my job is by the soreness and exhaustion at the end of the day.  How many of you (my readers) walked to work today?  Or do you already get plenty of walking exercise while at work like I do?  If you are able to do so, weather permitting, start walking to work one day a week.  You will e

A new struggle for intellectual dominance in constitutional theory is under way at the moment. The struggle is about the duty of judges with respect to the Constitution. It is taking place out of public sight, in a sense, because it is carried on almost entirely in the law schools and in the law reviews. But that doesn’t mean it won’t affect our entire polity in the years ahead. The ideas that win hegemony there will govern the profession, including judges, for at least a generation and perhaps more. Judge Robert Bork National Review September 17, 1982 The struggle to which Judge Bork refers is the latest chapter in the perennial American debate over the place of judicial review in a democratic polity. That debate is, at bottom, a dispute over the role of constitutional values in American life, and it is now at a critical juncture. It is possible that the ideas of Robert Bork—and a small group of like-minded legal theorists—will soon achieve dominance in constitutional law.  Thi