“November is Diabetes Awareness Month. Maybe you could a talk on Diabetes for us.”
I was asked to speak at the Senior Center about Diabetes because November was Diabetes Awareness Month and that would be a good “Health Topic.” When the lady said that over the phone I had a flashback to the fifth grade when I was assigned a body system to do a research report on. I don’t remember what my assignment was, most likely because my Mother probably got carried away “Helping” me, but I do remember Amanda Giovanni’s* topic. She was assigned the respiratory system. There came a day when we were to present our projects orally and with visual aides before the entire combined classroom of 4th and 5th graders and more importantly before Mrs. McManus and Mrs. Battle. I’m sure I did adequately on the oral portion, and my Mom’s artistic hand on the visual side either landed me some extra points or counted against me depending on whether or not my teacher’s were fooled into thinking that I had mastered the art of hatching and cross-hatching at the ripe old age of ten.
I wish Amanda would’ve had a little help from anyone. The poor girl was unprepared. When it was her turn to stand and deliver, she held up a crumpled piece of wide ruled paper with a pencil drawing of a pair of quickly drawn lungs. I can remember her anxious posture while standing before her peers. I have transcribed-from memory-the entirety of her presentation.
“My report is on the Respiratory System. Our lungs help us breathe. Without our lungs, what would we do?”
Utter silence fell over the room. I think we all learned a lesson far more valuable than any fifth grade research could tell us about the respiratory system. It was Mrs. McManus who broke the silence. She was disappointed that the child was unprepared, but there was also an element of understanding of what the girl may have been experiencing at home. Not everyone had a Mom who would drive to the BP gas station right after church to get a piece of poster board and then come home and free hand the circulatory system with H Encyclopedia Brittanica opened to Human Body while you were tucked in bed.
“You’ve had weeks to prepare for this project. You could’ve asked me for help.”
I want to say we had a whole month to procrastinate on this project. I haven’t changed all that much since 1996. I still wait til the last minute on a lot of things because I work better under pressure.
Work expands to fill the time allotted for its completion.
-Parkinson’s Principle
So here I am in the prime of middle-age, writing a quick article instead of researching Diabetes. I’ll get around to it-I’ve still got plenty of time. But I did think about just drawing a picture of some cookies covered by a general prohibition sign and saying something like, Diabetes is bad. 0/10 would not recommend and just hoping for the best. I might not get asked back, but I would almost guarantee that someone in that room will probably still remember that speech vividly in 30 years.
“Will the Lord cast off for ever? and will he be favourable no more? Is his mercy clean gone for ever? doth his promise fail for evermore? Hath God forgotten to be gracious? hath he in anger shut up his tender mercies? Selah.”
Psalm 77:7-9
David has some of the most pointed and direct questions in the Bible.
“Will the Lord cast off for ever? and will he be favourable no more? Is his mercy clean gone for ever? doth his promise fail for evermore? Hath God forgotten to be gracious? hath he in anger shut up his tender mercies? Selah.” Psalm 77:7-9
“How long, Lord? wilt thou hide thyself for ever? shall thy wrath burn like fire? Remember how short my time is: wherefore hast thou made all men in vain? What man is he that liveth, and shall not see death? shall he deliver his soul from the hand of the grave? Selah. Lord, where are thy former lovingkindnesses, which thou swarest unto David in thy truth?” Psalm 89:46-49
I’m glad those questions are in the Bible. It is comforting to see such relatable humanity in a character like David. It is human to question things. It is how God created us. David isn’t the only one with questions in the Bible.
Job had some hard questions. Legitimate questions. Questions about pain, justice, equity, and integrity. The Disciples of Jesus had questions. Questions about roles in the Kingdom, when Jesus was returning, and why they failed to cast out demons. Nicodemus had questions. Questions about who Jesus really was. Paul had questions. Questions about why God wouldn’t take away the thorn in his flesh. And Zane has questions. And maybe you have questions.
“God can handle your questions.
-Joel Booker
Sometimes I look at the calendar and I see holidays that I don’t understand. Or holidays that I understand and don’t observe. I’m not sure if it is on your calendar, but October is Pastor Appreciation month. I learned about this as an adult. I don’t recall observing this when I was a kid. I probably missed a lot as a kid though. I observe Pastor Appreciation but I don’t limit it to the month of October.
A pastor, we read in the English dictionary, is a minister in charge of a Christian church or congregation. I like Webster’s definition better, a spiritual overseer. The Bible likens pastors to shepherds and the people of God as sheep. In my childlike mind I understood that my pastor was the man who preached to me. He was The Preacher. There are many today that feel like preaching is irrelevant, and to use a Bible word foolish, but God still thinks that preaching is pretty important.
For after that in the wisdom of God the world by wisdom know not God, it pleased God by the foolishness of preaching to save them that believe. I Corinthians 1:21
“At some point, whether you want to admit it now or not, you are going to need a preacher, if only to put you in the ground.”
-Perry Wells
The words of the Preacher, the son of David, King in Jerusalem. Ecclesiastes 1:1
Solomon was a preacher. A wise preacher. Solomon gives us three of the five books of the Bible that are considered wisdom literature: Song of Solomon, Proverbs, and Ecclesiastes. In these books he gives us sound doctrine in how to conduct our relationships with our spouse, our fellow man, and pleasure. Solomon, to quote my father, was “Something else.”
Anyone can give you an answer, not everyone can give you wisdom.
And when the queen of Sheba heard of the fame of Solomon concerning the name of the Lord, she came to prove him with hard questions…And Solomon told her all her questions: there was not any thing hid from the king, which he told her not. I Kings 10:1-3
The Queen of Sheba came to test Solomon with questions. Hard questions. Let’s just see how brilliant this guy is. I’ve asked some questions like that before too. Sometimes you have to ask a few of those test questions just to make sure you’re not smarter that the person you are asking. Maybe the Queen also began that way. I can see her sashaying up to Solomon with a list of riddles and sharp hypothetical questions that she already knew the answer to, trying to catch him in a trap, and one after one Solomon answers her questions without any loss of composure. Maybe her attitude then shifted from snarky to the sincere and she began to ask questions about things that she really didn’t have a handle on but was too embarrassed to ask. After all, when you’re the Queen, you’re supposed to have all the answers.
I still have a lot of questions that I don’t feel comfortable asking just anyone. I believe that Pastors are a gift from God for the perfecting of the saints. I have come to appreciate my pastor so much more than simply his irreplaceable role as the The Preacher. At this season in my life my pastor has been someone who I can ask hard questions. Which leads me to this question: If you can’t ask your pastor hard questions is he really your pastor?
I have been working on this draft for almost a year. The fact is, I don’t want to write about grief. I would rather write something that will make you laugh. Laughter, as the scripture says, does good like a medicine. But I feel compelled to write about grief. And reluctance to write about it won’t make it go away anymore than ignoring makes actual grief go away. It is natural to want to avoid anything to do with grief. This is a truth: We cannot avoid the events in life that will bring us grief. Dealing with grief is part of living.
Blessed are they that mourn: for they shall be comforted. Matthew 5:4
Do you remember when you were a little kid and lost your parents at the grocery store because you were not paying attention? Losing your parents as an adult feels the same way except you are little embarrassed about calling out for them. That crying out is grief. I understand that everyone grieves differently. What has helped me has been writing my feelings. Maybe that can help you grieve too.
Stages of grief: denial, anger, bargaining, depression, acceptance.
When an event happens that triggers grief it is natural to feel these emotions, but that doesn’t change the fact that we can often feel embarrassed because we are experiencing them. After all, aren’t we adults who have everything together? Being shocked is an uncomfortable feeling. Especially for us who enjoy stability, quiet, and don’t like change. Denial can make us begin to question things we know are true. Being angry can also be humiliating because we feel like we have lost our self composure. It is where we say things like This is not fair! This is wrong! and we are further frustrated because we know what we are saying is true, but there is nothing we can do about it. Bargaining when you are unstable will usually get you a bad deal. You’ll end to doing something rash or in haste. Depression is a life sucking monster that strangles us to inaction. I’m not a licensed counselor, but I believe that one of the reasons that people end up going to counseling for grief is because they never complete the process but get hung up in one of the stages. Whenever that happens, no matter the stage, bitterness can develop.
Follow peace with all men, and holiness, without which no man shall see the Lord: Looking diligently lest any man fail of the grace of God; lest any root of bitterness springing up trouble you, and thereby many be defiled; Lest there be any fornicator, or profane person, as Esau, who for one morsel of meat sold his birthright. Hebrews 12:14-16
Bitterness is not merely an emotion, it is a parasitic root that gets in your spirit. The things that grow out of this root can’t be dealt with on the surface. Dealing with the surface is like cutting a stubborn hedge down to the ground only to realize that you simply pruned it and now it is destined to grow back even more unruly. Bitterness is a deeply inward issue that not only troubles you, but defiles many around you.
In the case of my Dad I believe I began the grief process as soon as he received the cancer diagnosis. I was shocked and tried to deny it: Cancer was something we heard about other people getting. I was scared to death of cancer as a child. I didn’t know exactly what it was and that made it even scarier. Shock and fear are not the same. I was not afraid when I heard the news, I was paralyzed with shock. I think I walked around numb for a few days.
I don’t remember being angry, but that doesn’t mean I wasn’t. And probably a big part of that is I believe in the power of prayer. I should say that although this article is about how writing about your feelings can help you through grief, it is my ardent conviction that prayer works far better. Prayer is where I did all my bargaining.
I do remember the depression stage. I didn’t want to do anything. I knew there was nothing I could do, yet I felt guilty for not doing anything and not being able to do anything. Whenever I experience depression, I eat. I think I gained 20 or 30 pounds following my Dad’s death.
I reached the acceptance stage one night before he died and while he was still coherent. That’s when I sat down and wrote this article in acceptance of his imminent death. Portrait of a Southern Gentleman, or Things I Learned From My Dad. It is a great comfort to know that he was able to read it. And he was able to brag on me a little bit, which is a source of laughter for me. I can tell you now that when I wrote that article I poured all of my emotions into those words. I cried the whole time. There was something special that happened when I was able to share those words with everyone. To know that someone else was able to experience my grief somehow made the burden lighter.
I will never forget the feeling of release when my Dad finally passed. It was as if I had been walking around carrying a couple of cross ties and somehow they just floated away.
From the end of the earth will I cry unto thee, when my heart is overwhelmed: lead me to the rock that is higher that I. Psalm 61:2
“You need someone to walk with you through the valley of the shadow of death. And when your heart is overwhelmed you will need someone to lead you to the rock, because you can’t find the way yourself.”
I did the same thing when my Mom died but she didn’t get a chance to read it, and knowing this I think allowed me to achieve a greater degree of acceptance.
Since then, I have made writing a part of my grief process. Which seems like an odd thing to say. I never thought about death as a child, but it is a steady growing part of my life now that I look more and more like Alfred and less and less like Bruce Wayne. Writing has helped me grieve the loss kids that were in my youth group-Oh Brandon!, family-Funeral Processions , Dan Theo Wells 1935-2021 , and dear friends- J.L. Parker. Not to mention countless things I have written in my journal.
So how do you write about grief? I think it is important to establish that putting your feelings and thoughts into written words while you are grieving is one of the most honest and genuine expressions of yourself. There should be no pressure to write to impress someone. This is you and your feelings. Putting those thoughts onto paper is a conscious going out of yourself. You have captured and placed in the visible an idea that has been floating around in the invisible. You have conquered that thought, and it can never escape. No one is grading you on content, grammar, or proper punctuation. And you do not have to share it with anyone. No one may ever see it. But it may help to allow a friend to help bear your burden. I know it does for me.
I still miss my parents every day. And I probably always will. I feel strong emotions every once in a while, but never denial, anger, or bargaining, only acceptance, peace, and most often sadness. If it gets bad I’ll go back and read what I wrote when it was still fresh and that helps.
I wish I could’ve talked to my Dad this week, because I am in a new process of grieving. But I already feel better having written this.
I have a little nephew and all he knows how to do is fill up diapers and clap.
O clap your hands, all ye people; shout unto God with the voice of triumph. Psalm 47:1
Did you grow up around live music? If so you probably clapped along, and probably never had to be taught how to clap. Its one of the first things you ever did. I have a little nephew and all he knows how to do is fill up diapers and clap. Its just in us naturally and most of us never even think about it.
Every once in a while I get to lead worship and I like to sing old songs. You know; country songs. Duple meter hillbilly gospel music. You can call me nostalgic and you’ll probably be right, but I also once had a kid rap at Youth Camp. You can’t please all of the people all of the time. Anyway, whenever I lead one of the these old upbeat gospel songs out of the hymnal there is usually one or two people that clap opposite of everyone else. And it makes it hard on me. Here I am, not really a singer but giving it all I got trying not to blow an artery while singing in the rafters, hoping to remember to give signs to the poor praise singers who are not hillbillies, and somebody is clapping off beat.
“Bluegrass is based upon a complex rhythm scheme called the boom-chuck boom-chuck. We kindly ask that you do not clap on the boom, only on the chuck.” -David Crowder
I feel like this man Crowder is speaking from the frustration of leading a song with a group of audience members who do not agree on where the clap feels right. And that is what I am here to talk about: How do you feel time?
Sincerely, I do not expect every audience member to be a musician and I wouldn’t discourage anyone from clapping in praise, whether they are in time with the music or not. This subject is interesting to me because time/feel is one of the things that makes music unique.
The “Boom-Chuck” rhythm that Mr. Crowder is referencing is the down beat (boom) and the back beat (chuck). In a bluegrass band the boom would be the stand up bass, and the chuck the mandolin. This eventually manifested itself in the drum kit with the kick drum playing the boom and the snare drum playing the chuck. So when Chuck Berry sang “Its got a back beat you can’t lose it” in Rock and Roll Music he was talking about the snare providing the back beat.
I was shown as a child, by a host of witnesses now passed on, to clap on the back beat. I didn’t grow up with a drum kit in church, which is where I did all my clapping to music. The clapping congregation were the timekeepers in my little church. I am sure I would’ve gotten in trouble from Mom for purposefully clapping on the down beat at church. And honestly, I have to bite the inside of my lip and furrow my brows like I am doing long division just to be able to clap “wrong”. Not because I can’t bring myself to do it, but because it is unnatural to me. But that is the musical tradition and environment that I was raised in.
When I got to Gateway College of Evangelism and joined the choir I was surprised to learn that even some of those blonde-headed, blue-eyed, midwestern yankees with funny German last names were just learning for the very first time in choir practice that you clapped with the snare drum in Gospel music. I thought man these people are backwards. Looking back though, Polka and Bluegrass musical traditions feel time very differently and emphasize different beats. And you might get odd looks for clapping on the back beat at Polka or Klezmer concerts. (I may be wrong about that, I have never been to either, but a lot of Polka is in 2/4 and puts strong emphasis on the downbeat. Klezmer music often has more elaborate clapping schemes compared to the simple backbeat.)
My Uncle Melvin believes that all this rhythm stuff we are talking about is made up, especially the part where you can count. I thought he was joking but after I talked to him about it I think he is being genuine. Maybe he represents a large swath of people who have no idea what I am writing about. I kind of doubt it though. I believe that many of you, especially if you grew up in a church that encouraged clapping, or around live music in general, will have a natural desire to move or clap when you feel a song. It is how you feel that song that is fascinating to me.
I made this video to demonstrate this topic. I said something in it that I want to set straight.
“There’s nothing worse than trying to lead worship with a group of people that are not in agreement on where to clap.”
That is not true. No one clapping is far worse. Clapping is an act of praise. Fortunately we are not being graded by The Almighty on how good our rhythm is. It doesn’t even have to be rhythmic. He’s happy with noise.
Make a joyful noise unto the Lord, all the earth: make a loud noise, and rejoice, and sing praise. Psalm 98:4
I have noticed over the last few years that my hair is thinning. That is a less painful way of saying that I am going bald.
“We need to get haircuts this week Wes.”
“Yeah. Those couple of strands of hair in the front look weird on you.”
“Oh yeah? What do you think I should do?”
“Well it may take some getting used to, but maybe The Bro. Sutton.”
Let me tell you about Bro. Sutton’s hair: He’s bald. Not just any bald, but shiny bald on top, with hair still around the sides. You know the haircut. This is how my own flesh and blood sees my hairline. He’s not the only one though.
That’s me. Before I make excuses about the lighting, let’s be honest that my hairline is almost level with my ear.
Leviticus 13: 40 And the man whose hair is fallen off his head, he is bald; yet is he clean. 41 And he that hath his hair fallen off from the part of his head toward his face, he is forehead bald: yet is he clean.
I’m glad that God decided to include this scripture in the Bible.
There is a brotherhood of bald men with secret handshakes, passwords, and I don’t know what all. You have probably noticed the familiarity bald men share with each other. Even total strangers give a nod to each other as if to say we’re in this together. The problem is they have begun to mistake me as a member.
I have noticed over the last few years that my hair is thinning. That is a less painful way of saying that I am going bald. I didn’t notice that y’all noticed though. But you did and probably a long time before I did. But people are kind and they didn’t say anything. Or maybe they thought that I noticed too. Let me tell you, it sneaks up on you. I haven’t been to the barber shop in almost a decade, so maybe my barber would’ve mentioned it.
It has progressed to the point that I have been approached about joining The Secret Society of Bald Men. Last week I met with two sitting members of the Society. They were men that have taken a higher order within the dark organization. I could tell because they were not only bald, but their heads were completely shaved. I can remember the younger one before he joined. That means the last time I saw him he still had hair. Kind of. His hair used to look like a rooster tail glued to a volleyball. Now he looks like Stone Cold Steve Austin.
“You should do it.” They older one said, trying to pressure me into shaving my head.
“You’ve got a nice shaped head. It will look good.” The younger one chimed in.
“I’ll do it for you. Lets do it tonight!” The older one followed up with a wild grin.
“Y’all almost convinced me. Let me wait for a more convenient season.” I told them.
Hair is the only thing a bald man sees when he walks into a room.
-Zach Wells
Integrity: that’s really why I am thinking about joining the Secret Society of Bald Men. The men that I met had an epiphany at some point-probably after they saw a picture of themselves-said “I’m tired of living a lie! I’m just going to be bald.”
I keep trying to convince my wife that buzzing my hair will look good. I’m not talking about shaving it down to skinhead level, but just so close that I don’t have to comb it. Or try to comb it over. She hasn’t been persuaded yet.
All the men that I have known that shaved their heads did it without their wives permission or consent. Which is something else that appeals to me. I enjoy giving Sarah a good surprise every once in a while.
Nobody looks at a man with a combover and thinks I’d like to try that. But when I see a man that has taken the plunge and shaved his head I see a man that has come to terms with his baldness and won. And that is inspiring.
Do you remember when you were a little kid and your momma would make you wear really uncomfortable clothes to church?
I’m supposed to be packing my church clothes for a Youth Conference that I am attending later this week, but I am procrastinating. This is what I do when I procrastinate: write essays. This essay is about church clothes. Having been going to church for 37 years-and 9 months before that-I have a long and conflicting relationship with church clothes. I was raised-and firmly believe- that you ought to dress your best when going up to the House of The Lord. Whether that is a pair of cowboy boots and your cleanest blue jeans, or a business suit and tie. This is the rub: I really enjoy looking nice in a suit and whatnot, but I also really enjoy being comfortable. And unless you are just the picture of health with a trim figure like a Greek statue, or have you enough money to pay someone to make you a suit of clothes that fit your exact body proportions, there is a strong chance that your suit is just going to be plain uncomfortable.
I’m not convinced that comfort should be the first priority when dressing for church.
Do you remember when you were a little kid and your momma would make you wear really uncomfortable clothes to church? I remember one Easter having to wear a button up shirt and these teal dress pants. I hated them. I looked like I stepped off of page 37 of a JC Penney catalog from 1992. Not only was I required to endure these clothes all through church, but I wasn’t allowed to change until after the egg hunt at Uncle Dave’s. I still think that is how a lot of people feel about dressing for church.
Most of the time, I do not really pay attention to what other people wear. And from a scientific study I did in college on this topic where I wore the same suit and tie for a solid week to see if anyone would say anything, I don’t think most people pay attention either. But it is hard to not notice when someone feels uncomfortable in their clothes. Especially a suit. I used to look out my window at work down at the courthouse steps and watch young men walk unsure of themselves in an ill-fitting suit to a matter of grave concern. You see uncomfortable people at funerals and weddings, their awkward conversations informed by clothes that they don’t really understand how to behave in.
There is a way to wear a suit like a lawyer or like you have a court date.
Here is a people watching experiment for you to try on a Sunday afternoon: go out to eat at the most crowded restaurant you can find right after church. Better yet, go to a buffet. Try to guess which people went to church and which people just decided to go get some Chinese food. It should be easy to tell by what they are wearing. I made a Bingo card for you to fill out.
Suit & T-Shirt
Tucked in Polo
Elderly couple with matching died hair
Gold-buttoned blazer
Hebrew letters on an article of clothing
Penny Loafers
Suit & Tie
Paisley
Sun dress
Church Logo T-Shirt
Cowboy boots
Braided belt
Child in a sailor suit
Seersucker
“Praise the Lord!” Greeting
Bow Tie
Wingtip shoes
“Production Team” T-Shirt
Suspenders
Pleated Khakis
High Heels
Western Shirt
Combover
Church Logo Hat
Square toed dress shoes
Uncomfortable: that is how dressing for church felt until I started paying attention to girls around about Middle School. It was then that I quit depending on Mom to tie my tie and started wanting to pick out my own suits and dress shoes. I think everyone goes through an identity crisis sometime during Middle School. Being interested in dressing yourself, while not knowing how to dress. The real conflict can be articulated thus: I don’t know what I want to wear, but I know it isn’t what Mom has been choosing. It takes a while to realize that your Mom had pretty good taste. Aside from maybe the teal Easter pants.
I got these hickory stripe tuxedo pants from Zach. I don’t know if I ever got cooler than that. I’m less worried about my clothes and more interested in that guitar that I might’ve should’ve kept. Alas, it didn’t sound near as good as it looked. I suppose there is a lesson to be drawn from that.
Fashion is so fickle. When I was a teenager I probably spent far too much money on dress clothes. Trying to be fashionable, or cool. Some of those clothes are cool again, but probably won’t be for long. I will see teenagers this week at PEAK wearing stuff similar to what I wore 25 years ago.
My sartorial ideals have always been too lofty for my meager salary.
It took me a long-a very long-time to figure out exactly what kind of church clothes (or any clothes for that matter) that I wanted to wear. But Today, I feel that I am closest to my real essence when I am wearing a suit and tie. Ultimately, I think I accidentally took less cues from my peers and current fashion trends and more from history while establishing my wardrobe standards. And it happened by seeing old photographs not necessarily related to fashion from say 1962 or 1937 of a men in suitsand realizing I would wear that today. When you take this classic approach, you are making a statement: I’m going to wear this and be confident and comfortable no matter what is trendy. This means that you may or may not be in style as the years pass. But what you will be, is established. And possible timeless. And we need more established people.
When was the last time you had a good peach? The kind that you bite into and the juice runs down your chin but you don’t even care?
When was the last time you had a good peach? The kind that you bite into and the juice runs down your chin but you don’t even care? A good peach ought to give a little when you touch it. You know it’ll be juicy if it leaves a thumb imprint. Sarah brought home some peaches from the store. Georgia Juicy the bag said. And they were. I ate five peaches one morning. I don’t know if peaches are my favorite fruit but they are in the top 25. I like to have to wipe my elbows when I get done eating a peach. The next week she went to a different store and brought home some peaches with the bag that said Fuzzies. I wouldn’t say the fuzz on a peach is the most appetizing or marketable feature. I do eat the skin. I know some people don’t like that, but it doesn’t bother me. I do like to rinse peaches before I eat them just to slick that fuzz down a little. It’s sort of like combing your hair before you go to church: it’s still the same old hair, but it just looks a little nicer when a bit wet.
Do peaches really need marketing?
I’m sort of glad that peaches are seasonal. Would they be as special if you could get them every day? Even when they are in season you might not get a great batch of them.
Peaches are the kind of food that don’t just taste good as an ingredient: A peach is good all by itself. But if I had to pick my favorite peach concoctions it be in these. Peach ice cream. Peach cobbler. Fried peach pie. I would like some homemade peach ice cream straight out of the container when it is still the consistency of a thick milkshake. Where you can use a spoon because you are mannerly, but really you can just drink it.
I saw these calves out of the fence this morning. And I just felt like I needed to tell someone. It seemed like the responsible thing to do. So I’m tell you since I don’t know who owns these cows. In fact, I don’t even know anybody that lives on the road where I saw them. I didn’t grow up in this town.
I imagine that whoever owns the cows will take care of the situation. Promptly. It might be a nuisance to have to stop what they are in the middle of doing and go try to round up loose calves. But this is probably not their first rodeo. And they’ll probably get the cows back in the fence and mend the fence right away.
This wasn’t the last time I caught these two yearlings out of the fence.
Things like that get taken care of quickly on the farm. I doubt there will be a meeting with all of the department heads to see whether it is a real problem or not and who will take responsibility. Or follow up departmental meetings to see who will be assigned to an interdepartmental special task force team. And no third meeting with the reluctantly volunteered staff to develop a plan of action. I bet just one man and a sack of feed took care of this issue.
Not all problems are this simple. Yet I am afraid that we often make a more complicated solution for problems that are even less important than cows being out.
Since the AI Assistant comes with my WordPress website, they are essentially in my employ and are subject to an annual performance review, which I have decided to share with you.
I must confess. I have been asking for a little help with writing from an assistant: Artificial Intelligence Assistant. You do not have to convince me that this intelligence is artificial. Since the AI Assistant comes with my WordPress website, they are essentially in my employ and are subject to an annual performance review, which I have decided to share with you.
Good afternoon AI Assistant. It is time for your annual performance review. First, let’s take a look at your job description together.
AI Feedback on Post: Check for mistakes and verify the tone of your post before publishing.
Lets start with the positive. I appreciate that you always perform your work in a timely manner and are available around the clock. I have noticed that your feedback on my articles frequently use phrases like deeply reflective, introspective, and heartwarming. Thank you. As a words of affirmation person that means a lot to me.
Now for the negative. Sometimes I wonder if you understand my humor. It seems like you have missed the tone on quite a few articles and I am not sure that you are familiar with the concept of satire. We need to work on that. My audience is not computers, and their intelligence is real. So when I write something humorous or satirical, I don’t need you to suggest that I change it to be more inclusive or offer suggestions to resolve the issue. What I really only need from you… is spell check. If your comments weren’t so absurdly entertaining I would have let you go a while back. Lets take a look at some specific feedback that you have given me for various articles.
When reviewing this article you stated “The content is written in English.“
This is the kind of feedback I expect from a fifth grader writing a book report with a word count requirement.
“Consider focusing on a specific theme or topic to maintain reader’s interest.”
Ok, that one stung a little.
“Develop a clearer structure or storyline to guide the reader through your thoughts.”
I’ll have you know, that my thoughts are not clearly structured. I’m trying to make the reader think.
“Try to incorporate more descriptive details to make the narrative more engaging.“
The Cyclist’s Guide to Evading Dogs; or Dog Stories for Practical People
Now in your defense, I’m not even sure my audience will understand what is satire and what is genuine feelings in this article. And for once, I don’t want to offend a dog owner. That’s why this article is not published.
The content contains valuable personal experiences and tips for dealing with dogs while road cycling. It provides practical insights and a reflective narrative that resonates with fellow cyclists. To enhance the impact of the content, consider including additional safety measures or alternative strategies for peaceful coexistence with dogs on the road. Additionally, incorporating a concluding summary or call to action regarding responsible pet ownership may further engage the readers.
Did you even read the article? I am at war with the dogs. I am not interested in peaceful coexistence with dogs on the road. I thought this article made it clear.
These dogs are a lot happier than the dogs I wrote about. And they are running the wrong way. Not to mention the cyclist is on the wrong side of the road.If all the dogs were this lazy and happy I wouldn’t have written the article in the first place. And the dogs wouldn’t have bitten me. I will overlook the cyclist on the wrong side of the road because of the flower pot in his lane.
The content shows a strong sense of nostalgia and storytelling, effectively conveying the excitement of setting and tending a fire. However, it might be beneficial to include a brief disclaimer or safety note regarding controlled burning to promote responsible practices. Additionally, providing insight into proper safety measures could further enhance the piece. Finally, considering the potential influence on readers, it’s crucial to emphasize the importance of adhering to local regulations and safety guidelines when engaging in controlled burns.
I worry about your reading skills sometimes.This is only marginally better.
The content demonstrates a clear understanding of the significance of high and low context communication, using various examples to illustrate the cultural differences. To improve, consider summarizing the key points for easier reader digestion. Additionally, providing specific real-life scenarios relating to high and low context communication would make the content more engaging and relatable for the audience. Consider incorporating actionable advice for individuals dealing with high and low context communication differences in their personal or professional lives.
Easier reader digestion?
Radio Kid This kid looks like he is playing a video game and not really listening to the radio. I quite like this image though.
At first glance this looks like a nice picture until you see the little boy and wander what is he doing with that third hand.This looks like Hallmark hired Norman Rockwell to make a Mother’s Day card and paid him by the person. I like to think that figure outside is dad waiting on everyone to come take the family pictures.I asked you to make it look like Norman Rockwell painted it. This looks like Shania Twain got hired for a Martha Stewart Ad.
The personal reflection adds a heartfelt touch to the piece. To enhance it, consider adding more diverse perspectives on motherhood to make it more inclusive.
What do you mean by adding a more diverse perspective on motherhood? What if I only have one perspective? After all, I only have one mother. You’ll have to ask another writer if you want another perspective. Make it more inclusive? Did you even read the essay? Motherhood is an exclusive club. No exceptions.
Additionally, offering practical tips or insights for mothers could further engage readers.
That’s just what a mother wants to hear on Mother’s Day: parenting tips-nay-mothering tips from a freelance writer man. I might as well publish a How To book for Mothers and sell it.
Quite honestly, AI Assistant, you fail me in the one area that I really need you: catching basic grammar and spelling mistakes. We’ve got to work on that a little better.
Disclaimer
I want it to be clear that my inspiration for writing is genuine and AI does not write articles for me. Why would it? I am not getting paid for this and there is no pressure to produce.
One of the reasons that I write is to share emotions and personal thoughts with whoever wants to read them. Writing is cathartic for me. I think this is one of the reasons that the AI Assistant doesn’t fully understand me. How can something soulless understand someone who is baring their soul?
AI seems to scare some people. Maybe I should be scared too, but I’m not. I view it like any other tool that has come along through the ages. Honestly, I have found very little use for it while writing other than its entertaining feedback. I have been running the AI assistant whenever I complete an article mainly out of curiosity, but I don’t think I have ever taken a suggestion from its feedback. In fact I often vehemently reject AI’s feedback which is what this whole article is about. This is my website, and I put a lot of effort into what I write on here. If AI were writing the material on here I would feel like a big liar.
Something that I am concerned about is how hard it is getting to be to tell what is written by a human and what is written by a robot. This is a problem that teachers are facing with students on writing assignments.
In one sense it is flattering to have someone tell you, “I started a blog and had AI write a few articles about ________ in the style of Zane Wells.” But it is also a little creepy to think about.
What strange times we live in.
AI Art Gallery
One interesting feature that the AI Assistant offers is generating an image based on what I have written. I am really curious how people visualize what they read. I have a friend that tells me he struggles to see a picture in his mind when he reads. I don’t think that there is anything wrong with him. It doesn’t seem to bother him-how would he know any different? But it bothers me. So I have curated an AI gallery for a few selected articles. I have laughed quite a bit at these images.
Every once in a while I get this message when I ask AI to generate the image.
An error occurred while generating the image. Please, try again! We’ve encountered an error. Possible content policy violation. Please try again.
I attribute this to AI not really understanding human emotions, and humor.
Motherhood is a marvelous institution and those who matriculate there are the wonder of humanity. The school of motherhood offers no easy courses. It is a lifelong commitment to learning, and to the giving of one’s self completely. Girls start training to be mothers as soon as they can hold a baby doll.
Motherhood is the highest calling of the gentle sex. I say this knowing full well that many people will virulently disagree with me. That’s fine: those people do not really understand just how important the roll of a mother is. I challenge the thinking that the giving of life is nothing more than an inconvenient limitation to women. I can’t think of more honorable work. Work that has eternal significance.
When you are a kid you don’t really think about your mother’s life before she had you. The moment you met her she would never be the same. You only ever knew her as a mother. Because of this, you have a special intimacy with her not afforded by anyone else. You don’t have to do anything to win her confidence. She was someone you could trust immediately. When you got older you realized how selfish and needy you were as a child, and how selfless and caring she was: your alma mater.
I am at the age that I am beginning to understand what the phrase young mother means. It is really the same miracle of motherhood just from an adult’s perspective and not a child’s. These are the mothers who are barely more than girls themselves, still in the flower of youth, whose children do not realize how young their mothers actually are. You see these young mothers trying to round up their children at church, or throwing a birthday party at the park, fussing over the details like cupcakes and snacks. So much life is happening at a child’s birthday party. I’m not sure birthday parties would happen without mothers. So much youth, health, and vibrancy. You see them dragging the whole family out to take family pictures even though everyone knows that the baby won’t look at the camera and the dad is going to complain about wearing a suit in the yard. It is the mothers who know that one day in 15 years everyone will be so grateful for these frozen moments when everything was just perfect. Mother’s have foresight like that.
I think of how much love a mother has for someone they hardly know, although they know them more than anyone else. Even if a child is as ugly as homemade soap, and mean as a striped lizard, a mother will love it. It is a good thing too, because we all need love. And today we celebrate that love.
Mostly From Memory 