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Wednesday, 25 November 2009
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Currently
The Lost Christmas Eve
By Trans-Siberian Orchestra
see relatedSmall Firemen and a lesson in thankfulness...
The following is a true story:
In Phoenix , Arizona , a 26 year-old mother stared down at her 6 year-old son, Frank "Bopsy" Salazar who was dying of terminal leukemia. Although her heart was filled with sadness, she also had a strong feeling of determination. Like any parent, she wanted her son to grow up & fulfill all his dreams. Now, that was no longer possible...The leukemia would see to that. But she still wanted her son's dream to come true.
She took her son' s hand and asked, "Bopsy, did you ever think about what you wanted to be once you grew up? Did you ever dream and wish what you would do with your life?"
"Mommy, I always wanted to be a fireman when I grew up."
Mom smiled back and said, "Let's see if we can make your wish come true."
Later that day she went to her local fire Department in Phoenix , Arizona , where she met Fireman Bob, who had a heart as big as Phoenix. She explained her son's final wish and asked if it might be possible to give her 6 year-old son a ride around the block on a fire engine.
Fireman Bob said, "We can do better than that. If you'll have your son ready at seven o'clock Wednesday morning, we'll make him an honorary Fireman for the whole day. He can come down to the fire station, eat with us, go out on all the fire calls, the whole nine yards!
And if you'll give us his sizes, we'll get a real fire uniform for him, with a real fire hat - not a toy -- one-with the emblem of the Phoenix Fire Department on it, a yellow slicker like we wear and rubber boots. They're all manufactured right here in Phoenix , so we can get them fast."
Three days later Fireman Bob picked up Frank, dressed him in his uniform and escorted him from his hospital bed to the waiting hook and ladder truck.
Frank got to sit on the back of the truck and help steer it back to the fire station. He was in heaven. There were three fire calls for that station in Phoenix that day and Frank got to go out on all three calls.
He rode in the different fire engines, the Paramedic's' van, and even the fire chief's car. He was also videotaped for the local news program. Having his dream come true, with all the love and attention that was lavished upon him, so deeply touched Frank, that he lived three months longer than any doctor thought possible.
One night all of his vital signs began to drop dramatically and the head nurse, who believed in the hospice concept - that no one should die alone - began to call the family members to the hospital.
Then she remembered the day Frank had spent as a Fireman, so she called the Fire Chief and asked if it would be possible to send a fireman in uniform to the hospital to be with Frank as he made his transition.
The chief replied, "We can do better than that. We'll be there in five minutes. Will you please do me a favor? When you hear the sirens screaming and see the lights flashing, will you announce over the PA system that there is not a fire? It's the department coming to see one of its finest members one more time. And will you open the window to his room?"
About five minutes later a hook and ladder truck arrived at the hospital and extended its ladder up to Frank's third floor open window and 5 fire-fighters climbed up the ladder into his room.
With his mother's permission, they hugged him and held him and told him how much they LOVED him.With his dying breath, Frank looked up at the fire chief and said, "Chief, am I really a fireman now?"
"Bopsy, you are, and the Head Chief, God, is holding your hand," the chief said. With those words, Bopsy smiled and said, "I know, He's been holding my hand all day, and the angels have been singing."
With that, he closed his eyes one last time.
Happy Thanksgiving my friend. When you're tempted to feel like there's nothing in your life for you to be thankful for this year, remember little Bopsy and be thankful to be alive! :)
Monday, 02 November 2009
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Currently
Libertad
By Delirious?
see relatedNews and Olds from a Mobile
As you know, finding an instance where thetenguy doesn't have anything to say about current events is rare indeed, but that's precisely what's happened. I have nothing to say about how the Democrats are wrecking the country, how Rush Limbaugh is getting too bitter for my taste and how Joe Biden's mouth is beginning to resemble a cave what with him constantly sticking his foot in it...
Oops, did I just contradict myself?
Moving on...
Lots of new adventures and lots of old ones wrapping up in the life of thetentguy. I'm starting to look forward to 2010 and the newness it promises. This year has been packed with activities enough to fill a book, indeed someday they might, but for now I'll be happy to look back and be satisfied I made it through alive and in one piece!
2010 will hold a lot of new adventures, but some of the irons I have in the fire are going to have to be pulled out and go cold to give me some breathing room. It's a simple fact of life, doing something with excellence requires commitment and I want to be the best at what I love to do- which is not always the same as what I'm good at doing!
Have you noticed that? There are certain things in life that we're just not good at, but deep inside we love doing them.
Like dance. I've always loved movement in conjunction with music, it just does something to me. But every time I try to dance I lose my balance and end up looking like a goofball, much to the amusement of my friends.
My little sister is an accomplished freestyle ballet dancer, she can hear the movement in music and then interpret it into a dance that will blow your mind. There are never dry eyes in the room when she finishes a dance.
There's an unnamed dancer at an unnamed church in an unnamed city that has the same gift, she can stand up on the stage and with a simple flourish of her arm make the song come alive. It's out of this world. I cry every time I see her dance.
I feel the moves ready to burst out of my own soul too, but I'm afraid to let them out. What if someone laughs? What if someone thinks I'm gay?
Well, there you have the excuses why we don't see any guys getting involved in the dance teams at churches; up till now all we've had is the ladies doing their thing while us guys sit in our chairs afraid of looking gay, all the while feeling the rhythms and moves ready to burst out at any moment!
I don't think we have to do the flowery stuff, we just need more male expressions of the arts. We need masculine dance moves to compliment the feminine dance that for so long has been the church's only expression.
Dare I try?
And the music. I love British music, don't get me wrong, it's just that it seems to be the only style of worship in church nowadays; the high male voices with somber sounding sustained guitar with just a hint of overdrive; I call it British Pretty Boy Pop. :) I really like it, but I think there's room for more. Where are the deep, gravelly and full sounding songs that reach into your spirit and make you want to shout? Where's the SOUL?
Dare I sing it out?
Well, you've been allowed a glimpse into my thinking lately. I admit I haven't shared it with too many people yet, so just between you, me and the rest of the entire world, let's keep it a secret between ourselves ok?
Sunday, 20 September 2009
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Heroic Deeds
I received this as an email forward today and I'm sure some of you have as well. I rarely pay attention to forwards, but since this was from someone who I know doesn't just forward everything I took a closer look. After reading the story I checked it out and from all accounts it is true. Read on...There recently was a death of a 98 year-old lady named Irena.
During WWII, Irena, got permission to work in the Warsaw Ghetto, as a Plumbing/Sewer specialist. She had an 'ulterior motive' ... She KNEW what the Nazi's plans were for the Jews, (being German.) Irena smuggled infants out in the bottom of the tool box she carried and she carried in the back of her truck a burlap sack, (for larger kids..) She also had a dog in the back that she trained to bark when the Nazi soldiers let her in and out of the ghetto. The soldiers of course wanted nothing to do with the dog and the barking covered the kids/infants noises..
During her time of doing this, she managed to smuggle out and save 2500 kids/infants. She was caught, and the Nazi's broke both her legs, arms and beat her severely. Irena kept a record of the names of all the kids she smuggled out and kept them in a glass jar, buried under a tree in her back yard.
After the war, she tried to locate any parents that may have survived it and reunited the family. Most had been gassed. Those kids she helped got placed into foster family homes or adopted.
Last year Irena was up for the Nobel Peace Prize ... She was not selected.
Al Gore won, for a slide show on Global Warming.
Isn't it just like our politically correct times for someone doing work in a politically hot topic field to receive more recognition than this heroine? Ah... such is our times.
Sunday, 13 September 2009
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Currently
Viva La Vida
By Coldplay
see relatedGideo Vames
I rarely play video games. It's not that I think they're generally bad (obviously I think overly violent and demonic ones are), I just seem to always have something else to do. When I do play them I really get into it, forget this playing them for a diversion and stuff! Like Nacho Libre said at the bottom of his wrestling career, "I wanna hweeen!".
I like the Wii, it keeps you active and ties you into reality, which is good because I can get lost in alter reality pretty quick! Wii boxing rocks. When I play I really box, none of that soft tapping stuff here- I'm more likely to KO the screen or any fellow player who accidentally gets close than I am my virtual opponent!
You know you're having fun when you work up a sweat playing a video game...
But I can't get into Guitar Hero or anything that has to do with music. Maybe it's because I already play music, but I just see no point in it. SOME people, however (and I won't name any names) love Guitar Hero and Rock Band. And they're not teenagers. In fact, they aren't even in their 20's. Or 30's. Or 40's... But they love it and they are good at it too.
Hence, I dedicate this post to all my geeky Baby Boomer friends. May your riffs always be on the dot. :)
Tuesday, 08 September 2009
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Quote of the day
I predict future happiness for Americans if they can prevent the
government from wasting the labors of the people under the pretense of
taking care of them.~ Thomas Jefferson



