New Truth

After a rather thought-provoking conversation with a very good friend today, something has been revealed to my mind. I trust this friend to know me implicitly, and have given them absolute access to speak anything into my life that they feel would be appropriate. The topic of intelligence arose, and I petitioned a rating. After scoring pretty well on their scale, I felt good enough about myself to make one further interrogation. "Maybe," I said, "but do you think I am wise?" The answer is a breath of fresh air now, but seemed like a punch to the gut at the time.

They said they felt like I have a lot of wisdom, but (unfortunately) it's mostly stored-up wisdom.

I don't know if you understand the implications of that statement, so let me define it for you: Wisdom withheld begets increasing ignorance.
Before I go any farther I should point out that I in no way disagree with their analysis of my life. In fact, it's the most truthful observation anyone has made about me in quite a while (beside the statement someone made yesterday about my car looking like it was missing a front tooth). Like I said, this person really knows me.

So let's talk about wisdom.
Wisdom is not static. It's not the measles, meaning you don't just get it once and then you never have to worry about it again. Proverbs says, "Buy the truth and do not sell it..." That particular book of the Bible is awash with sayings about wisdom, but I really like that one.
I know, that verse doesn't even have the word 'wisdom' in it; however, I submit that truth and wisdom are cousins in meaning. Wisdom is an extension of the Truth with the addition of one crucial factor--action.

So, [readers], if you accept my words...
turning your ear to wisdom
and applying your heart to understanding,
and if you call out for insight
and cry aloud for understanding,
and if you look for it as for silver
and search for it as for hidden treasure,
then you will understand the fear of the LORD
and find the knowledge of God. Proverbs 2:1-5 NIV

Wisdom is what I plan on searching for today. Thank you, friend, you are very dear to me.
Have a great day, folks. It will be whatever you make it.

Korea's story

I recently visited the Kansas City chapter of my reading audience. Incidentally, KC is where approximately 50% of the six people that read this blog reside.
While I was there, I had the pleasure of meeting one of my most devout readers. Her name was Korea (name changed to protect the mostly innocent except for alcohol abuse), and she had subscribed to my RSS feed through Google Reader. Korea's patronage touched me more than any of my other followers, because it took them all of ten seconds to check my blog: Click, click, read, done.

Not so with Korea.

She sported a very old, very tired laptop that buzzed, clanked, and smoked more than Chitty Chitty Bang Bang filled with diesel. With her laptop, it takes approximately twenty minutes to get to Says Ray.
“Twenty MINUTES!” exclaims the average American. “Why, in twenty minutes I can check my email, check my reader, check the weather, check and double check my checking account, post on my blog, post on my wall, post up for a pick-and-roll, twit my tweets (heh, heh), youtube the “Mother’s Day” skit (do it), AND spend the remaining fifteen minutes at addictinggames.com.”

Poor Korea, she has only heard glorious stories about all those magical places. She can’t visit them on her computer. That would be as preposterous as visiting Canada in a 1986 Geo Metro, you can only go so far on the interstate (or internet) when you’re driving outdated machinery.
Korea, thank you for being here. I know you probably won’t read this until fiscal 2010, but your sacrifice means a great deal.

As Christians, there is a joy that comes from sacrificing a great deal that cannot be equaled by that which comes easily. I know that Korea laughs harder than anyone else (or at least, laughs) when she reads Says Ray. I am not necessarily supporting a suffering theology, but I will say this:

From large oak trees come thousands of tiny nuts

I hope that quote really brought home the prodigal moral that I keep alluding to: Appreciate the gift God has given you in your computer; without it, you wouldn’t be able to read Says Ray.

LOVE STORY (Taylor Swift) meets VIVA LA VIDA (Coldplay) - Piano Cello - by Jon Schmidt

Okay, I'm not a Taylor Swift fan, but this is amazing.

Sweet Video

Hey guys, I'm up with the times; I have figured out how to link videos from Youtube.

This morning I was listening to KLOVE and I heard this song for the first time, "How He Loves," by the David Crowder Band.

It was awesome.

So awesome, in fact, that I have youtubed it (NOTE: remind me to submit the word "youtubed" as an infinitive verb to the Board of Made-up Words--BMW--later). There are a lot of other artists who have arranged it. This one I found particularly incredible, it is done by Jesus culture.
The first half of the video is stunning. This lady's voice is very dynamic. Very smooth, but still a lot of texture to it (the best combination, btw).
The last half got a little too emotional/demonstrative for my particular taste, but everybody has their own flavor.
Enjoy, and let me know what you think

How He Loves Us - Kim Walker / Jesus Culture

Am I me?

Ever had to deal with someone who makes their living dealing with hacked off people?

Case and point, EVERY single phone line customer support person you will ever talk to (someone once told me that ALL generalizations are false, so I NEVER do that anymore).

I tried to get my free credit report today, and I wish I had never picked up the phone. It seems that when they ask for your current address, you probably shouldn't tell them the truth in the following two situations:

1. You are a liar
2. You have moved

In my case, both apply; so I really should have seen that coming. Well, the address I told her didn't match the one from last year when I set up the account. So, "she" (I use the term loosely) said that she could not verify my identity at this time, since the current address I provided does not match the one that they have on file.

"Oh, no problem," said I, "I have moved since then. The new one is-"

-"Sir, since your identity could not be verified at this time. You are going to need to fax me a copy of your driver's license and a utility bill from your current address."

"You mean my recent address? Because my current address is-"

-"Sir, it has to be the current address we have on file."

"Okay, so you need my old current address."

"No, sir, your current address means the address you're living in now."

"Yes, ma'am, I'm aware of the definition of the word 'current.' Are you aware of the definition of the word 'changed?', because that's what my address has done. It has changed."

"Sir, I can tell you are a little frustrated about this situation, but let me assure you that here at ------- (name withheld to protect the ignorant), we strive to provide you with the best quality of service possible."

...
...

"So do none of your other customers ever change addresses?"

"Sir, at this time we are still unable to confirm your identity. What I am going to do now is transfer you to our corporate office, where you will be asked to verify your identity using your Driver's license number, date of birth, SSN, and current address."

"*sigh*"




This encounter has really got me thinking, though. I have thought about how much I appreciate not knowing any of those people personally, and how the invention of the telephone was a bad thing. One of the most disturbing thoughts caused by that conversation, however, was when considering the questionable nature of my identity.

Am I actually real?

Those people aren't quite sure about it, and most of them possess a lot of trans-cultural knowledge juxtaposed with at least several weeks of experience living here in the U.S.

Maybe I should be more cautious. For instance, next time I'm at Chipotle and el cashier asks me to sign the credit card slip I might just ask,

"Are you sure you want me to be the one to sign this? I'm not currently positive that I'm me."

Open mouth, Insert feat

When talking to me about my training accomplishments so far here at Suzuki, one of my team leaders remarked, "Well, that's a pretty big feat." So I then informed him that his mother had pretty big feet, in an effort to build a relationship.

Remind me to work less on building relationships.


He didn't get the joke, and then said if I was going to joke all day I should go work as a street clown (He didn't know that I have already looked into that field, but the benefits can't compare to what I had as a balloon animal maker). Next, he shot me in the face with his M1 Abrams Tank...




IT'S A JOKE! Ha ha, I was just experimenting with the use of exaggeration as a storytelling device. He never had a tank, and I have never been a balloon animal maker (but what I said about better benefits is true). I never even actually said that his mother had big feet. How ridiculous would that have been? He never even had a mother. His name is Anakin Skywalker-Dum Dum Dummm!!

I'm getting good at this storytelling stuff.

CCCC (Cash for Clunkers Comes to a Close)

Today has been SUPER busy. Cash for Clunkers ends Monday, so
GET IN DEBT NOW PEOPLE, YOU'RE GOING TO MISS YOUR BIG CHANCE TO GO INTO SLAVERY!

A Tale of Two Toothbrushes

Guys, be warned...

This is how marriage goes: You marry the woman of your dreams, at least in my case, and at that time you own a perfectly good toothbrush. This toothbrush is only yours, and only you use it. This toothbrush belongs to no one else, and no one else uses it.
Then, the woman of your dreams moves in with you (unless you move in with her and her parents, in which case you probably have an electric toothbrush [and you probably keep your floss in your pocket protector]).
From time to time, she will use your toothbrush. This is cute at first ("Ahh, I have a wife. I have a wife and she's using my toothbrush #* Sigh *# ).
Then, she will almost exclusively use your toothbrush. This becomes not cute ("Why can't she use her own crummy toothbrush?")
What happens next is a little hard to explain calmly. I don't know if you surmised this or not, but this has actually happened to me; I'm actually drawing on personal experience here. Next, you get out of the shower to find her toothbrush-the toothbrush meant for her personal use-in the trash can beside your toilet (the fact that it's in this particular trash can is very important because of the symbolic statement it makes: "Personal ownership and rules don't mean crap to me").
After that, usually the next day, you won't be able to find your toothbrush at all. This won't offend you as much as the toilet brush (rim shot), because at this point you're just surprised that she left any of your razors in the medicine cabinet.
And so, my friends, you give the woman of your dreams a call and she says, "Oh, yeah I took our toothbrush to work with me today. Maybe you could just pick up a new one for you today?"

She's so sweet; how could you say no? After all, you will get a new toothbrush out of the deal...maybe.

Psalm 19:14 (parentheses mine)

May the words of my mouth (even the words that I only consider saying)
and the meditation of my heart (whatever source I choose to abide in and eat from)
be pleasing in your sight, (and let me see just how pleasing I am to you, Lord, and how your heart stirs with an unending desire to have all of mine)
O LORD, my Rock and my Redeemer (You, who have led me to a strong, secure place where I am free to rest in and be saved by you all throughout today).

Sign Here...

I began a new job yesterday. I am now employed by the nation's most successful Suzuki dealership (No, it's better than being the world's tallest midget).
Wow, there is a lot of information to get down. I wouldn't want to tell someone their Xl7 Sport only had standard ABS brakes with EBD if they were actually getting ACC, ESP with TCS and EBD for the same price.

I can't wait until I'm comfortable enough at selling cars to do the "Sign Here" sketch that I heard a long time ago:

Car Salesman: Good afternoon, sir! How may I help you?
Customer: Well, I would like to buy a car.
Car Salesman: Alright, sign here.
Customer: But I haven't even told you what kind of car I want yet!
Car Salesman: You want a great deal, low mileage, affordable price, and classy style. Sign here...

Classic, his tone of voice makes the whole thing even better.
Matzeltopf

91st PGA Championship

I'm at my in-laws watching Y. E. Yang and Tiger duke it out at Hazletine. Wow, what a battle. If you don't think this is exciting, you are probably a gamer

i.e...


Gamer 1: Hey, Todd, guess what? I was playing Tiger Woods 09 on my XBox 360 yesterday, and shot 36 under par on the front nine at TPC Sawgrass. I probably couldn't have done that normally, but I recalibrated my system with a performance enhanced turbo-charged V-twin Hemi micro power converter, which allows me to get approximately 5GigatetraHertz more RAMS per millisecond, so...

Gamer 2: That's nothing, I got online and hacked some codes, so I posted a 37 under yesterday. By the way, how lame is Tiger Woods? Only 8 under so far at Hazletine. What a jerk, he just needs to hold L2 down a little longer and then tap A+X+Y to consolidate those eagle putts...


I rest my case.

I can't believe what Yang is doing, though. Leading by 1 stroke with only one very difficult hole left to play. I'm calling it early; Tiger wins, but I don't know how he will do it. I wish he had a better attitude and would shake off Buddhism, but I love the idea of a superhero. Go get 'em, Tiger.

The amazing human body

Don't worry, there are no pictures of me in a speedo at the end of this post (or anywhere). My wife's grandma (no, none of her either) just had heart surgery yesterday. She was scheduled for a bypass and a valve replacement, but ended up only getting the bypass. The surgeon opened up alot more than he thought he would, though, so now grandma has blood flowing out everywhere (it's a good thing).

The human body is incredible. God is amazing. All the membranes, arteries, veins, systems, and structures that comprise it are their own proof of how they were made. There is no other explanation for the human body than a brilliant Creator. Something equally incredible are surgeons.

Surgeons have to think on their feet, and must be very smart and amazing. At least that's what ours told us about himself. I don't know if you have ever known a surgeon, but they feel like we should know about how much work they went to to get where they are. Understandable. A typical paragraph from our guy would go like this,

"Well I had just finished closing the primary fibrugatolatory artery, when all the sudden I noticed lymphatic acid, hydrochloric acid, AND battery acid leaking from the upper bicuspidal root of the lower atrium. Well, we surgeons have to think on our feet, because we're very clever. So that's exactly what I did. I thought on my feet. Thought right on 'em. I just stood there and thought, thought, thought. I thought about my college experience and all the work I have done to elevate myself to this ultra-human position. I thought about my garage full of imported cars. I thought about the fact that my marriage and bank account seems to be indirectly proportional, and how I'm really okay with that. And finally I thought to ask another surgeon to come in and tell me what I should do with your grandma. Yes, sirree, not many people could think on their feet like that."

Five hundred years in school and they get a sense of entitlement, but I think it could be taken too far.

What happens when people in other fields start feeling the same sense of entitlement?

Billy the bus driver: "Hey, kids we'll be a little late for school today, the bus is broken. But let me tell you about how we bus drivers have to think on our feet."

Bob the trash man: "Yeah, I noticed a banana peel had fallen out of your bag, so I had to think on my feet..."

Clark the janitor: "Well sir, I just wasn't quite tall enough to change the bulb sitting down, so I had to think on my feet..."

Billy Bob Clark the redneck: "Yep. I aint been known te do mech thinkin', and the wife says my feets stink better'n a hawg bein fed a mess a beans, heh heh heh. Yall know what I mean? Man, dem hawgs make the wurst stanks, heh heh..."




Happy Successful Heart Surgery Day, Grandma, love you.

My Apologies to...

So today I read what I posted yesterday, and it really read different than I wanted it to. It really just came across as me making fun of/complaining about my wife.


As I said; not what I intended

Let me issue a public apology:




To whom it may concern,

Roses are red, violets are blue, vomit is green, and now you're sick too.
(that wasn't part of the apology, just a poetic interlude)

Okay, here we go:



To whom it may concern,

Six smart sharp sharks stood still surely saying sorry so say something similarly serendipitous.

hmm...I'm having a little trouble with this apology thing



One more try:





To whom it may concern,

I am truly sorry that my wife dances like a three-legged giraffe and eats like a pig.

Sincerely,

Says Ray



There, now my conscience is cleared.

Dancing Queen

I'm sitting at my cousin's house, trying to keep my wife from shaking her groove thing too much, which has turned into my full time job since the advent of my marriage career.

My wife loves to dance.

For most husbands, this is a problem for one primary reason:

1. They have to dance with their wife, which is boring, because if they don't, their wife will dance by herself; thereby garnering the attention of other, ahemm, men.

Fortunately for me, Molly isn't coordinated. So I can let her dance all she wants, and none of the other men notice.

Don't get me wrong, she is attractive when she does some things. Chipotle, for instance. Watching her complain and gripe at the workers so they will give her three more grains of rice just before she shovels that 1.45 lb meal into her face with no regard for making such a mess of herself she might be mistaken for a car wreck victim really makes my heart implode with love.

It's ironic, though, that I was first attracted to her dancing...

Monetization

So Says Ray has gone commercial.

I have sold my artistry to the highest bidder.

There are ads on my blog now, and I receive money by people reading my blog. Welcome to literary whoredom. So I have crunched the numbers, and considering there are at least seven, and probably more (like eight) people that read Says Ray, I should make about $1.75/year JUST FROM POSTING!!

Incredible, I know.

Molly and I have been praying for God to deliver us financially, but we never expected anything this big. Praise the Lord, I am now a professional blogger.

Typical Typings

Hey folks, we're in this thing together

I'm interested in what makes you, the reader, tick

Do you...appreciate...ellipsis?   ...?

D0 you have any desire for me to talk about anything a little more close to your heart, such as cholesterol?

Do you rumba?   (then pick a rumba from one to ten)

Do you respond to questions?

Let me know what you're thinking...

PlEaSe CoMmENt