I was bullied from Kindergarten all the way through High School. The bullying was directed by teachers – not just from other students or peers; Teachers were the main criminals. Who do you turn to when you’re six years old and your teacher is calling you names like “loser” and “a nothing – a nobody – that’s all you are and all you’ll ever be” in front of class. What about when you’re twelve and a teacher holds up a playboy in class, telling the girls that if they don’t look like that they won’t amount to anything in life? Or when you’re thirteen and your coach makes crude remarks about you in front of other boys in the locker room? What about when you’re sixteen and the teachers choose to look the other way while you’re getting the crap beaten out of you in the hall?

School is a crime against humanity. The system wreaks from the inside out. Although I don’t condone what happened at Columbine, those kids had enough. They talked and adults didn’t listen. When nobody listens, you have to make some noise… sadly, their noise was through bullets ending the life of others (both guilty and innocent of bullying). The big noise now is through Facebook announced suicides.

Although suicides are among people of all race, creed and color, the big craze now is in homosexual suicides. I can say from experience that this has been going on for decades and has only started getting recognition. When the other boys don’t know why you’re different, they just start assuming you’re gay and call you names and treat you accordingly. I was never gay, but apparently many guys in my class thought otherwise… or they didn’t know big words like “unique” or “introverted” or “sensitive” or “empathic”.

Last weekend I recounted to my daughter why I delved into the occult when I was twelve. It was to escape the pain… Even the memories are painful. Memories of having my face buried in a toilet full of feces then flushed… of opening up my locker to find it full of used condoms… of having a boy force his groin up to my face in gym class… of being physically bullied so much that I passed out in the school hall… of having someone dump a bottle of skunk essence on my head then being sent out of class because I smelt so bad it was disrupting… and the smaller continuous things like being flicked in the ear each day on the bus… having chewed gum or thumbtacks stuck in my seat… and all the degrading names… the list goes on. I felt like even God couldn’t do anything about it. The fantasy of the occult promised super powers and magic that anyone caught in the fabric between childhood and adulthood while in the midst of despair would reach for. I bit that apple, but it didn’t give me anything more than paranoia to add to the pain and darkness.

I certainly thought of suicide, and so did one of my friends who did eventually go through with it. My parents knew some of what went on and took it to the school council. They balked at my parents. If this were happening today, lawsuits would be involved. Back then, the council members were only embarrassed enough to make arrangements for me to cut gym class, but forced me into special ed because I was different. Had I lived in Colorado Springs back then, I probably would have gone through with suicide because it’s so common here that I would have had the “support” of both bullies and peers to “off” myself. (Sadly, Colorado Springs has the title for the second highest suicide rate in the nation. First billing goes to Las Vegas.)

If you want to do something about it, keep your kids out of school or become hot-damn determined to go to every PTA meet and visit campus weekly. It’s already been proven that kids can learn reading, writing, arithmetic and history through a better environment than what our government provides. Let me add that they can also learn more about life and live a happier one with some dignity intact by keeping them out of school. When my dad confronted the dad of one of the school bullies, merely stating that he needed to have a talk with his child, the parent’s response was a threatening “so what are *you* gonna do about it?”

When morally cheapened parents put their kids in a rotting system that spends every effort being politically correct and conforming children into the same mindset, teachers are robbed of their own human rights, are stripped of authority and anarchy inevitably takes over.

If children choose to go to college, warn them about fraternities and sororities that condone hazing, sexual misconduct and alcohol abuse. These debase human beings to the behavior of animals. There are so many great clubs and organizations that an “all boys” or “all girls” club is purely unnecessary and pointless. Better friends are made elsewhere.

… And when it comes to being bullied, it’s the hope from a good friend who stands up for you that makes living the next day a viable option.

Consider that there are alternatives to school. The most successful people in the world are the drop-outs: Bill Gates, Steve Jobs, Ansel Adams, Julie Andrews, Billie Holiday, Tom Hanks and a list of nearly a thousand others who make the top 1% of the world’s revenue and political influence. School is not for everyone, and it’s apparent that going to school could even hinder your child’s future success. I’m not saying these people weren’t educated – I’m saying public school’s version of “education” isn’t suited for the greatest achievers… In most cases that’s who the bullies pick on – perhaps because that’s who they fear.

For some reason I thought hair could grow an inch a month, and having a good employment from a company that seeks out ways to help the community, there was support from them as well as my family to continue after this goal.

The truth is that my hair grew out only a third to a quarter of an inch a month, making it a 30 month run before I could cut my hair without shaving myself bald.

I chose Wigs for Kids for several reasons. First and foremost, they ask no money from those who receive the wigs. Secondly, they focus their attention on children. I remember being constantly picked on and abused by my peers throughout the schooling years so this was a personal goal to help at least one child not suffer the humiliation I went through. Finally, because they have such strict requirements, very few of the donations are thrown away or sold. People who participate in Wigs for Kids don’t do it on a whim and are careful to make sure the hair gets to them in a qualified manner.

As an adult with a full head of hair I was criticized by those around me. Although it’s certain the judgmental behavior came from people of all ages, it was children who out of natural lack of verbal constraint audibly expressed condemnation. I felt a need to excuse my choices and told people at random why I was growing out my hair; it was often because of my fear of attention rather than my desire for it that people were told my motives.

Children usually don’t get that chance with their peers from whom biting harsh words are thrown. When dignity and support is torn from a child it ripples into the rest of their lives. Likewise, when support is given in the face of indignant situations, it can make a child stronger – possibly even a Tour de force that positively impacts other lives.

As it turned out, last weekend I reached my goal! To make the finish line even more emotional, the barber who cut my hair has a niece with leukemia. Even in rough economic times we can help. If you’re not growing out your hair, raise awareness. Pass around addresses to the facebook video or to one of the blogs or posts. Tweet it. Get people involved in hair clubs where, instead of trying to grow hair for themselves people are growing their hair for others.

Peace!

I used to keep a diary. Trust me, it was a scary thing. I’m terribly embarrassed by it, now and have thought of creative ways to destroy the volumes of terrible emotional venting. I also wish that I had kept a journal or diary over the past ten years because so much growth has occurred during that time and some of the wisdom acquired has been lost. I have a terrible memory that serves me as well as an Applebees waiter on Sunday.

So today I’ve felt mostly down. When asked what’s wrong, the only response I could come up with that didn’t incriminate against myself was “I’m not living up to my potential.”

That statement in itself is true and generic enough to let people derive their own conclusions. Life, work, marriage, fatherhood, worship, leading, following, you name it.

Sometimes it feels good to be emotionally drained. It leaves more room for the happiness in the days that follow.

It’s “mainstream” because it’s not another Adams Mountain Cafe, Dale Street Cafe, Gertrudes or Olive Branch. In other words, it doesn’t appear to cater specifically to health nuts. You can order fish and chips or burgers like most other American food restaurants, but it’s not some disgusting MSG laden chain like Applebees, Red Robin, TGIF or others similar. Even my son who has an arsenal of food allergies can eat the burgers from the kids menu.

The restaurant is very family oriented with old classic cartoons beaming from television sets around the dining hall to the model trains that circle above your head. It also has a classy feel, which is unusual for family restaurants and gives this eating locale a character and charm of its own.

Instead of bringing out the typical complimentary oily GMO chips and salsa or fatty flavored fries, it’s a plate full of crunchy carrot sticks with dressing to dip them in. When you order regular fries, it’s potato strings, oil and salt. You can ask for healthy options when ordering and the waitresses and waiters are quick with their answers which I take as a queue that they are asked these questions often and the restaurant is becoming more known in the circles of natural food eaters as an enjoyable outing.

They offer an interesting burger that most people might first wince at. Imagine a bacon burger with peanut butter instead of ketchup. Don’t laugh. Think about oriental food – Chiang Mai steaks, or Szechuan Beef – and you’ll recall the combination of nutty and meaty timbre throughout the meal. The burger seems to be one of the local favorites because of its unique yet pleasing flavor.

I had the fish tacos, which was probably one of the lesser items on the menu. Even the side condiments were sad in appearance and texture. The owner of the restaurant seems attentive and desirous of his customer’s comments but was busy waiting on tables so I left a comment on their cards for him to get to later. I was thinking today of what could have made the fish tacos great and thought up some points on how to improve them. That’s what the next blog will be about.

For now, do better than me and if you order something that you don’t like, tell the waitress or waiter and have it fixed. These are not the type of chefs that would spit in your food like those who work in other places (especially chain or snobbish restaurants – and there are plenty of horror stories out there that are too disgusting to mention). These are chefs and employees who work closely with the cheerful owner who takes humble honor in running his business.

I give it four and a half out of six forks.

I wanted to find out if there was anything that could have caused my hair to turn Grey besides age and the best way to determine that was to find out what point in time my hair started turning grey.

First, I needed to determine how much time this hair had been growing, then I could divide that time to find out roughly at what point my hair started turning grey. Next I needed to check the calendar and recall specific events that occurred during that point in time.

It turns out hair grows at a rate of 1.25 centimeters a month. Doing the math, the hair had been growing for about 7.5 months. Since it’s grey segment started transitioning 2/3 of that time back it meant that 5 months ago, right at Memorial day, is when the transition began.

A few days before last Memorial Day I ruptured a disk in my back between L4 and L5. Although I had degenerative disk disease since January of this year, it wasn’t until just before Memorial Day that a certain incident caused the pain to become unbearable. I went through a series of doctor visits, tests and therapy along with taking irregular doses of Ibuprofen, aspirin, fish oil, and a Glucosamine, Chondroitin, MSM complex.

I don’t know if it has any significance but I wanted to consider some other variables.

During this time I remember being under a considerable amount of stress at work and was overall unhappy with life. All major areas were sources of stress. We kept falling back into debt because of laziness, the relationships with my wife and children were decaying because of long work hours, I wasn’t sleeping or eating properly, and wasn’t relying on God or spending quiet time with Him. If there is such a thing as a biorhythm, I was spent on every level.

The only other factor I can think of involves some terrible fits of sneezing, headaches and itchiness caused by an onset of allergies that lasted from late July to mid October.

I admit that I first thought of the back problems to be the cause; I don’t know what signals a pinched nerve distorts. That idea quickly went away when I searched for “ruptured disk grey hair” and immediately saw a trend in the results. Most of the websites that came back mentioned copper deficiency. That’s not all. There was another page that identified a relationship with grey hair and bone density. Studies at the Maine Center for Osteoporosis Research indicated that if at least half your hair turns grey before you turn 40, you had four times greater chance for showing low bone density compared to others who grey after 40.

Interestingly enough, lack of copper causes the mood to swing downward. It also causes the reproductive system to shift off balance in a way that can cause more nasal infections and sensitivity to fungus.

So if this has merit then increasing copper and calcium in my diet can possibly reverse the grey hair and strengthen my back. Before going down that road I wanted to check out other issues. First, what are the risks of increasing copper? Is there such a thing as copper poisoning? There is, and there is a risk of zinc depletion when copper is in excess. http://www.drlwilson.com/articles/copper_toxicity_syndrome.htm has some good details on the benefits and problems with copper. OK – so now we need a copper, calcium and zinc supplement.

Vegetarian diets contain high amounts of copper – particularly leafy greens.

I still have some unanswered questions. What other nutrients, when lacking, increases the risk of slipped or ruptured disks? What nutrients are depleted from the body to heal the disk? What other nutrients, when lacking, increase depression or stress and what nutrients are depleated when someone is under depression or stress? Finally apply these same questions to allergies. I’ve learned that the grey hair, the slipped and even ruptured disk, the allergies and depression are actually symptoms and not diseases. Rather than buying a bottle of hair color, Advil, Benadril or antidepressants – all designed to cover up the problem – I’m eyeing that cup of fresh wheat grass juice, black tahini spread and a slab of lamb liver. Cure the disease; don’t cover up the symptoms.

Other links of interest:
“When I turn up the raw heat (so to speak) I have seen my grey hairs completely go away.” (Raw foodist diet is high in copper)
http://www.giveittomeraw.com/forum/topic/show?id=1407416%3ATopic%3A88854

“there should be very little of these strength of elastin tissue diseases such as aortic, abdominal, or thoracic aneurysm, hemorrhoids, and slipped disc among people who eat a lot of shellfish.” (food with high copper content)
http://charles_w.tripod.com/copper3.html

“Some symptoms of a copper deficiency: Allergies, Anemia, Dry Brittle Hair, Heart Disease, Hypo and Hyper Thyroidism, Osteoporosis, Parasites, Ruptured Disc, White or Gray Hair, and Wrinkled skin.”
http://www.biophysica.com/copper.htm

“Ragweed [allergies], for example, is generally indicative of a phosphate/potash imbalance, but, more specifically, it indicates a copper problem.”
http://www.soilminerals.com/information.htm

October 1st is World Vegetarian Day. It started in 1977 to bring awareness of the benefits of living a vegetarian life style ranging from the treatment of animals to health importance.

Other than veggies I enjoy a good fish, which technically makes me a pescitarian. I’m not disturbed by bear rugs or mink coats but get ill at the taste of most meat (in the past it tasted like cardboard), though I’m a glutton for just about anything cheese-related.

Cheese-loving occasional-fish-eating mostly-vegetarian people unite!

Many years ago, my wife and I attended a Gary Smalley seminar where he briefly mentioned the importance of touch. It’s something we all need to live. So I thought to myself that if I don’t supply my children with enough positive words and touches each day then there may come a time in their teen years that they look for that need elsewhere and end up experimenting with touch in ways that isn’t allowed outside of marriage.

So I asked my kids, “Do you get enough loving touches throughout the day: pats on the head, pats on the back, hugs, kisses… stuff like that?” They all answered “no”. So I wondered – how much do they need? Then came the question. “How many times do you feel you would need to know you are loved?” The eldest child only thought briefly before saying her answer: “Twenty times!”.

That’s quite a bit of touching to take place over the two to three hours I have available for them during the week days. With the size of my family, if everyone got 20 touches a day that would add up to 100 touches a day – not including our dog.

If that were spread throughout a three-hour-twenty-minute period it comes out to touching someone every 2 minutes.

I only remember getting a meaningful touch about once every other week growing up, which was still more than most of the kids I knew. I’ll bet our society has even pulled back to the point that children are only given a meaningful touch once a month, and that’s reserved for when the child initiates the hug.

One last thought – giving my children that access to my personal space makes me a tangible figure for them. I become more real and more accessible in ways beyond the physical. Hopefully they’ll learn that and come to their real accessible Dad during the more trying years ahead.

“Whatever things are true, whatever things are noble, whatever things are just, whatever things are pure, whatever things are lovely, whatever things are of good report, if there is any virtue and if there is anything praise-worthy — meditate on these things.” – PHIL 4:8

I am very lured to talk about the incessant corruption evident in the current events. From companies that treat people like cattle to government corruption to the media that amplifies it.

I hate to admit, but when there’s a bad accident I’m drawn to see what happened. When work becomes stressful, I begin to concentrate on how stressful work is. This clouds my judgment from seeing obvious solutions to the problem.

I’ve been called a worry-wort and a wet-blanket amongst other things. There are many others out there who also mount worry and complaining in the halls of their daily living. They are like trophies. That’s not what God calls me to be.

We could ask why and go into some Freudian explanation just to explain it away, but that still focuses on problems.

In Disney’s movie “Pollyanna”, Philippians 4:8 becomes a pivotal element several times. The pastor is discouraged and dis-enlightened, a man is frustrated with the political corruption, one woman has a fixation on death, another on sadness, another on herself, and finally Pollyanna becomes fixated on her crippled condition.

Taking the lesson from the Bible, when I’m discouraged I should look for something to be glad about rather than complain.

I shouldn’t let discouragement build to the point of anxiety. The verses leading up to Philippians 4:8 explain how we should deal with anxiety – by bringing it to God. God is then said to bring peace – not solutions.

Like any good doctor a prognosis is mentioned with the cure to go with the medicine. Am I anxious? Bring it to God and get some peace. Chances are I’m anxious because there’s a focus on the wrong things. Change the focus and my condition will change with it.

A large windmill spun overhead as we pulled in past the gate. Parking our van we quickly spied over the metal bar fence. Picnic tables adorned the lawn to the side of a large red barn. Nestled on the barn’s porch were white rocking chairs and a table with a box of freshly pulled garlic stalks resting in it.

Paula took some of the family to ask about the process at this farm. I followed up with some equipment and water.

“There’s a ‘train’ that picks up here and takes us to the berries.”, she said.

We didn’t wait long when a green John Deer tractor pulled up with a large red and white bench seat wagon rolling behind. The driver showed us where to pick the red currents and where to pick the black raspberries then slowed to a stop to let us out.

We spent some time picking currents. After pulling together two pints worth, we began picking the raspberries. The combination of mid-90 degree heat and thorny bushes was difficult for the children to bear so they headed back to the barn for shade when the next ‘train’ came by. “Get the black ones!” cried out the driver over the tractor engine. I nodded as she pointed in an area “These are more ripe here!” she called out again.

I continued to pick berries for some time longer before heading back to the barn area myself. My girls picked flowers and dug up carrots during that time. Once we were all together again we drank water and sat on the shaded porch in rocking chairs. Then Claudia came by.

Claudia and Tim are the owners of Berry Patch Farm. Her tan face and energetic smile display a level of passion she has for her farm. She kindly answered questions Paula had about organic farming. She mentioned that the Colorado State University was invaluable as a resource – that the university even takes classes to her farm to study organic farming techniques in practice. She talked some about the expenses related to this type of farming, but also related the benefits to it.

A few minutes later we were joined by Tim. He waved to us as he stepped off the tractor. A few minutes later he was showing the children a medium sized rock that had been split by lightning.

When I asked if I could get a picture of him and his wife together he asked if I were from the media. “No”, I replied, “but it might end up on my blog, though nobody really reads it.” He and Claudia looked at each other and chuckled.

“A few weeks ago we were visited by some Microsoft bloggers. They called ahead and made arrangements then took some nice pictures, too.” He was talking about the Eco-Trippers who were making a journey from San Francisco to D.C. for the “Live Earth” concert and stopped by on the way.

We perused the barn some more. They have a variety of fresh vegetables of course, but they also have honey, eggs and some great tasting almost-natural candy. It isn’t quite completely natural since it uses non-organic corn syrup amongst some other purist taboo ingredients. One of the girls and I went out and picked some fresh basil then checked out.

That night we had a fantastic Margaretta pizza with the basil. As for the currents and raspberries, I plan to make some fantastic jelly with them. The rest of the family can hardly wait.

But as I was sifting through some well kept day planner pages from 2001 and 2002 I realized something. For two years I worked an average of 60 hours a week. Seeing that and realizing how little that got me in my career, and how much time I didn’t get with my family, I just shake my head in disgust.

How could I have been such an idiot? Not that I don’t mind working extra hours, but when you have an additional 900+ hours of work (above the regular work hours) in just one year alone … sheesh.

What could I have done with those 900 hours? Write more songs? Be a better dad? Be a better husband? What good did it do me to plug in 14 hour days on a regular basis? To add more injury to myself, I didn’t use up all my vacation time for that time … haven’t used my vacation time appropriately for years. As a result, I feel tired most of the time. My kids aren’t as close to me as I’d like and my marriage isn’t as strong as it should be. Neither is my walk with God.

I’m grateful that I took the time to record those hours. I quickly forget how long I’ve been pushing myself so hard and how worthless it all is. No rewards all around.

Looking at this, the question is – how do I change? What can I do to make the future better? Hours have already been cut back at work thanks to a change in position. I have to admit that I was upset at first, but it’s nice to be working a normal 40-45 hour week. I have to admit that I’ve contemplated a major uproot and taking my family to Italy or Spain where I hear of 30 hour work weeks, mid-day siestas and higher family values. Well – no Spain for us, at least not for now. But I need to make the time with my family precious. Not precious as in it’s so rare, but precious as in it’s so common they feel my absence when I’m not there.