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I Escaped

/ Norman Eric Peterson / 1 Comment

Mine has been an interesting life. So I have been told by people who read what I write.

It seemed normal life to me, what did I know about life? A weirdo and a geek and I have written a few columns about myself. Inward when outward isn’t working. Reasonable when most people are not.

Brilliant and surprising and not understood why. Asperger syndrome, a variation of Autism, a precursor. Advanced in mathematics asking grade school teachers about soil stratification. Then obtaining my novice class amateur radio license in grade school. General class a year later

Dad knew I was different and catered to my interests. The rest of my family stayed at arms length when I acted normally by my thoughts. Knowing the joke about Santa Claus as I waited obediently in my room for my father to knock on the front door and great the great Satan in his red suit with warmth to fool us. I knew Santa clause was evil for his behavior and indifferent attitudes towards people with anti social tendencies. I was used to it after all. Truth is truth.

I would have welcomed coal as we burned it in our basement stove with all it’s steam punk gauges and clinking doors.

As I age, my brilliance has faded somewhat but the wariness remains. Conversation and acceptance always seem to go hand in hand. I like genuine smiles and try to do so. I engage people in places that are not usual for most and use ruses of my own to do so. I complement a vehicle that I see and engage the owner with a complement on it. Conversations fascinate me and I always learn something. Mechanical or even better. I have learned to ask names and even origin of different ones. I guess at the country of origin of their name and this begins the game I reveal to them. It softens the spirit of strangers and lets them know they are seen.

“you’re so friendly and easy to be with!” That is what I have been developing over decades and the wish to bridge the chasm between me and the world. As the improbability device on the Pot of Gold in the hitchhiker movie says: “now approaching normality 2 to 1 and falling”

I am at a loss for words often to express myself and that is why I write and edit over and over till it makes sense to readers. I put the blame on the world and then exalt the cure for us all by mentioning Jesus who is healing me of many things. Mental and physical, I love to pray on the spot for anyone that needs and wants it. It’s a gift from God who has gifted me to do so.

After all, the first thing of communication is to seek it. The early days of my amateur radio were obvious to me. In Morse code the first call tapped out to speak with someone you do not know are the letters, CQ. Seek You. Makes sense to someone looking to communicate with the world. It’s pretty good. Jack Gator Scribe to K0JMV.

It’s Not Right, But…

/ Norman Eric Peterson / Leave a comment

There indeed is a ‘but’ in our in all of our thoughts and actions. My brother and I were at a local eatery/bar and our waiter was ‘interesting’ to us. The waiter seemed to be a rude woman. Very sarcastic too which to me, can be charming . (I have become aware that being sarcastic is not a very good conversation trend) It’s fun when you are with a close friend. Just don’t make a habit of it.

I asked if they had french fries and our waiter replied. “it’s a bar, do you want a beer too?” The fries were good, not hand cut but OK. I still did not know what to say to him. His costume was pretty good. He had nice trim razor bangs and hair with slight blue coloring. Oh well, so what, It was a person which the establishment had hired, Most certainly followed by local whisper gossip heard in small towns.

A saucy Lisa Minelli with menus and a pad and pencil. Cute, attractive but giving us a wry inward thought. A movie actress pose with hips slightly bent to the side accompanied by a wry smile. Both my brother and I are very humorous types and attend the same church which is very scriptural and very welcoming. To everyone. Love one another is a prime focus. Everyone.

The recent topic that was being preached was about the ‘buts in our lives’ Spelled with One T. Many ways we all use that modifying word. I will do that, but I do not have the time thing. In our immediate situation, I will accept this waiter but without judgment. Respect and the usual friendly banter we all have towards people in the service industry. Good tip always.

We continued our delicious meal with our usual brother to brother ways. “ what do you think our waiter is?” Not sure. “Sarcastic and forgot my refill on my coke!”. In my usual direct way, I asked our waiter if they were a Christian? A firm NO came forth with a disgusted description of his mother that was a woman of faith and how controlling and offensive she was. Boldly replying to my question. Instantly I asked “would you like to be one?” No never!

My brother then went up to the bar and showed our waiter the bill and he said “it was wrong as it was too little”. “No one has ever done that before!” the waiter said. Our sodas were removed from the bill for being forthright and honest and the bill was then the ‘correct’ amount. Outside as my brother readied his Austrian motorcycle and I prepared to walk to my truck, we smiled and I swept my hand towards the ground and said “seeds were planted”

We both smiled and agreed, indeed that was good. Declaring our Christian belief and showing respect and honesty. It was pretty good. Jack Gator Scribe

my brother Bryan

Bullfighter

/ Norman Eric Peterson / Leave a comment

A saying I attribute to Sitting Bull. He spoke of the two wolves inside of us as well. I wondered about this wisdom this morning and ran across more wisdom from Michelle O’Rourke. The little bulls are the battle we have with the little deaths we all must experience in our lives.

The loss’ of physical strength or stability in using what I have left. The bull of my early times swinging spike malls and 16 pound sledge hammers. I agonize over that when I should just join that death with me being the matador and the bull, joined with that blade.

We all have them, those little bulls we embrace. The world inside that speaks failure and personal weakness or loss as the source. To rise up from the sand and brandish the blade and put that snorting thought to death. There are also the worlds many wolves that linger, just beyond the glow of our inner campfire. Eyes lit and eager to pounce upon our sense of worth and trample the fire.

That indeed is the leader of the wolf pack, sense of worth destroyer. I think I am worthless because of changes that come to us all. Physical strength, provision fears. What will become of me when those around me see this?

We indeed do change as we approach death. In old age or in disease or accident. All of us.

My favorite quote from Woody Allen: “I am not afraid of death, I just don’t want to be there when it happens” Why do I cling so hard to my little bulls when I know they must die with me as everyone knows. Playing games within that Jesus will return and I will just be caught up with Him. Maybe I am akin to Enoch and will just ‘leave’ (after a long life) or Elijah who ascends in a flamed out custom chariot with really fancy custom wheels.

Better to listen to our God with his Mighty hand and outstretched arm that delivers time after time and tells me how much He loves me and will never leave me. Loves me the way only He does.

Many times He has shown me my true worth. Small things that are even bigger than the wolves that whisper and howl. He says, “Go here and talk to someone I will show to you” A purpose and all I have got within me. The reason I have had things happen that I can’t explain as excellent and good. My life unfolding with a mystery of loss and gain. Not embracing my mind and the abilities that I have been given as my very own brilliance and creation.

Indeed, the blade must go deep and true to put to death all those thoughts of self importance.

Listen to the creator of all things brilliant. He will give you all the encouragement and worth you ever have needed. He will turn your losses, your grief, and sadness into joy as you dance in the light of His light. Sit at His campfire and the wolfs of the world will not dare approach. It’s pretty good. Jack Gator

Acronyms and Uniforms

/ Norman Eric Peterson / Leave a comment

It starts out simple enough. Mama and Papa. Our first acronyms of our world. Mamma E Papa in Italian (of course if you live in southern Italy you drop the last vowel. Mamm E Pap.

It’s easier to communicate in ‘shorthand’ it saves time and everyone knows it anyway.

We all use them and sometimes, it distinguishes us as belonging. For example: ER for emergency room, scrubs for clothes therein. DX or WX for radio lingo which translates to Distance and Weather. If you use those you are either a radio guy or an officer of the law.

Uniforms usually pocket protectors or turn outs and vests.

Lately, I have been accepted into an invisible society that wears all black and uses some neat acronyms. Bogo, Shader, Switcher and ME’s. There are a LOT of them in every subset of our world. I like ‘worlds’ describing command structures. They either confuse and you respond with “Hmm or that sounds interesting” instead of another acronym that shows they are also a member. AD or lyrics would work. At least there is no secret handshake.

I became aware of different societies at an early age when I became an amateur radio operator, or ‘Ham’ we communicated with Q signals showing we belonged and because it made long sentences into an acronym. Police have the same thing going for them. I can always tell if someone has a background in communication when they use A as in Alpha, B as in Bravo and so forth. Q is Quebec by the way.

Hams had uniforms too. Quick draw slide rules and pocket protectors were De Rigueur. Flannel shirts were optional. All the jocks had special words too. Not worth the ink to repeat.

We all do it, we all belong to a segment of society that has special words and language. Deacon, Bishop and repentance along with special clothing at times. Nothing wrong with those things either. All this is how we deal with the world and try to understand it. It’s tribal. If you believe in evolution, the concept of a trousered ape. Authur C. Clarke comes to mind with the movie featuring a thrown bone by a ‘caveman’ turning into a space station.

We use everything to make distinction between us. I belong. We do so wish to belong don’t we? Family is sweet and feels reassuring. There is certainly a family that we can join together and there are no uniforms and very few acronyms involved. The one uniform that seems to be recognized is a light in the eyes and a demeanor that draws you. There is desire to share lives and the excitement of encouraging one another. Jesus and His spirit and belonging to Him. You don’t even have to dress the same. Just draw a fish in the sand and you are bonded. It’s pretty good. Jack Gator

Kindling

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They move through the earth, walking among the hungry ones that can be seen as glowing, waiting for their fires to grow. The burning one is seeking those that are looking to grow, they are just waiting to be on fire and then loop and twist with a solar flare that touches the flames of all creation. All of it.

It is the honor to supply small pieces of kindling to be gently placed upon those coals that have been waiting for a bit of fuel to bring into flame, the passion that smolders within them. A small amount of the spirit is enough to bring the banked coals into heat that can be seen. Then warmth begins to radiate out and is the glory of the risen King. “Light of the world, you came down into darkness. Opened my eyes and let me see.”

It is a treasured gift to give that desired amount of spirit, to be a carrier, akin to a small donkey of older times that has the pieces of kindling to lay upon the beginning fires. To gently walk among them in the night and encourage them to radiate Christ’s light in the darkness of the world.

There is joy within the servant that brings that small amount of encouragement. To bring a handful of truthful fuel that whispers the beauty of Spirit. To tell them that it is good and right to embrace God and speak to him of our hunger to burn with love.

The larger and larger flames begin to grow until the fires radiate love. Laughter and smiles among us all grow and blaze. We are drawn to the place we know that this can occur once more. The hunger is satisfied with tears of joy. This is the reason we are together. “Don’t do what you know to be wrong and love God and your neighbor with this love and you’ll be all right” A.

That donkey carrier, moves along with it’s kindling. Quietly looking for those that the small bundles of fuel will transform fires of life into a galaxie’s swirling arms shouting joy.

It’s pretty good. Jack

A. Mother Teresa Song lyric from Micheal W. Smith