NOTICE: Before this rant begins, a few important disclaimers. First, I am a “sinner”..and know it. Next, I know that I am far from ever being “perfect”.  Also, I know that it is not my place to “judge” others.  Lastly, even so, I know that I am a fallible “human being” and I will continue to make “observations” and “commentary” about people, institutions, etc. who profess a particular motus operandi and then deviate at will.

So, for today’s soapbox issue, I continue to observe a large majority of the Contemporary Christian Music (aka CCM) “business” just as pathetically arrogant (as in maybe a little snobbish), money motivated, and vanity ridden (otherwise tossed in with the boilerplate attitudes and song writing templates) as every other genre of today’s music industry.

Every CCM artist (and video) I watched on “YouTube” this morning was of the “Video-TV Friendly“ variety.  As in, not one Mick Jagger (Rolling Stones), Angus Young (AC/DC), Steve Tyler (Aerosmith), Lemmy (Motörhead), Kurt Cobain (Nirvana…Yeah Grunge), Freddie Mercury (Queen), or any other <span style=”color: #008080;”>“Pre-MTV Era-Styled” musician/artist sans Botox, perfect teeth, hair, jawlines, eyes, you name it…were to be found. One single word sums it up, “LOOKS”! Indeed it would appear, “Video Killed The CCM Radio Star” as he was going about stabbing all the other “Radio-Era” musicians in the back and changing the face (ha!…a pun!) of music forever. I’ll save that topic for a rainy day when I have nothing else to write about…yep.

If you’re still unsure what I’m talking about, before the “MTV, VH1, YouTube, Internet Video-Era” emerged, music sold to a large extent based on…well…the music itself. Many fans hadn’t a clue what the musicians looked like…nor did they care. They wanted “the music”.  And to be blunt, often times the artists behind the music were “NOT” of the “beautiful people” classification. They were, for the most part, common looking Joe’s like the majority of the human population. And of course, the “idiot tube” and “music videos” where quickly followed by an even worse abomination. Recording studios now had the tools, and skills to convert nearly any decent looking, breathing, human body into a “Superstar”. What?  You mean my favorite Top-40 artist is incapable of performing her new hit song “live”? They’re doing what? Lip-syncing? Blaspheme!

Ok Ok…, so as I dig myself out of this giant rabbit hole and get back on topic, I’d like to offer a few lines from a song released when I was about three years old (and yes, I know…out of context):

“Something touched me deep inside,
…the day the music died.”
— Don McLean’s “American Pie” (1971)

Now, over the course of a few of my previous lives, I had the opportunity to meet both secular and Christian production personalities.  These individuals, and I am referring to the Christian variety… pushing out “Music With A Message”…oozed a pungent, arrogant demeanor…as if their particular occupation had somehow elevated them to an “elite level” within the Christian faith.  Basically, I am suggesting, because of their particular places of employment and activity in the music world…somehow made them…“Holier Than Thou.”  Of course, we’re all quite familiar with how these situations typically play out.  I can personally voice knowledge of at least one instance…pride did cometh before the fall.  I take no joy in this knowledge whatsoever.  In fact, as contradictory as I somewhat find myself, I prayed for them to find the strength and wisdom needed to piece their lives back together.

During my ownership of the “Red Rose Coffee House”, I made it a point to invite local CCM artists to perform at my establishment.  Yes, some who came to perform (local bands…often members from church praise & worship teams) exuded this same attitude.  I invited them into an established business I had acquired, a business with a reputation for catering to gay & lesbian clientele.  I put myself in the lion’s den, I established a Bible study, I had long conversations with my college-kid crowd(s), I built a stage and installed a PA system (“Hey Obama…guess what…I built that”).  I mention all these off-topic details, not to brag, but to establish my efforts and for a reason I feel people should know.  The pastor at a local Baptist church just over the rail-road tracks on Middle Tennessee Boulevard ordered his congregation to “stay away” from my business.  He had seen the calendar in a local college’s newspaper showing a lesbian sorority meeting up at my business.

So, I’m asking myself, how can someone sing, praise and profess such love of God, Jesus and His Eleventh Commandment…”to love one another”…and then display an attitude of, “I don’t have time to talk to some peon like you.” ? I know it has to be a tiring job touring and such…but that is the mission they chose. As such, shouldn’t they expect to be approached by their audience(s) and fan(s)? Wouldn’t you think these performers would rise to a higher standard if they’re going to preach (sing) to crowds of thousands of souls?

And yes, they do indeed preach through their music…and I can imagine people who hear these words and desperately want to discuss the subjects with the artists. When one sings of forgiveness, salvation, and the freedom Jesus Christ offers us to massive crowds…we would all pray that someone’s heart be touched.  We would pray they seek out the musician(s) who just performed and want to know more about Jesus and Salvation?

I will concede, as with every other issue on this planet, my most trivial rant does not cover 100% of the CCM performers, producers, executives, or anything…period.  There are “always” exceptions to every rule.  I should be one to know…I’ve been living life as one of this world’s “exceptions” for quite sometime (…and I thank God for making each day I do).  Even so, I must confess, it breaks my heart to see such vanity, greed, and elitism running just as rampantly (…if not more) within the CCM circles as it is with every other division of the music industry.

May God bless those who walk the line of truth…and my he open the eyes and hearts of those who may be walking amongst these disciples yet are deaf to the words they hear.

Psalms 100 (NIV)
1 Shout for joy to the Lord, all the earth.
2 Worship the Lord with gladness;
    come before him with joyful songs.
3 Know that the Lord is God.
        It is he who made us, and we are his;
                          we are his people, the sheep of his pasture.
4 Enter his gates with thanksgiving
and his courts with praise;
      give thanks to him and praise his name.
5 For the Lord is good and his love endures forever;
his faithfulness continues through all generations.

— Bill

You know, I really don’t like writing about all the negative aspects of my life…but the thoughts loom large over me daily.  I continue to learn and utilize skills to combat the thoughts…as I will as long as I’m here on Earth.  You’ve seen the pill dispensers stocked with my cocktail of daily medications (minus  the items that don’t fit in there).

The number of doctors telling me “you’re a mess” or “you’re an extremely complicated case” seems to increase on a daily basis.

When I began writing this post, I had finished the first session with my new therapist. Yes, I’m taking several medications to combat the “major depressive disorder”, “PTSD”, “anxiety” and the host of other psychological issues I endure…but these medications are only part of what I and many others require to combat the ugly monsters in our head. One-on-one conversations with a therapist who has no pre-conceived bias or connection to my family and/or friends is the goal.

Hopefully I’m wrong, but given all the data I have…all the research (…”always” peer-reviewed studies and such)…my physical condition…my mental state…all tell me I’ve entered a new stage. This new stage in life; I’ve prayed and hoped it would “never” become reality.

My goals now focus on “damage control”. Essentially…what can I, my physicians, and unimaginable chemical cocktails do to stop the current degradation…or at best…slow it down. Yes. I would gladly accept the “miracle” returning my body to the functional level I was blessed to have enjoyed for fifteen years of my life. Even with all the bumps in the road, I am forced to admit the abundant “time” I’ve enjoyed has been a truly magnificent blessing.  A bless that so many people never had the pleasure of experiencing.

Therefore, it behoves me to focus on the positive aspects of the life I still have and set aside the thoughts that strive to strip me of joy.

— Bill

Well, while I was paid our electric bill today (online). Just before I hit the “Submit” button (…and let me tell…when certainly submitted) I noticed a box where you could contribute $1-$5 or a custom amount to those in need of assistance with their utility bill. I tossed in a fiver. Figured, why not…given the amount I was already handing over…what’s it gonna hurt to help another out?

I’m hoping that next month someone “Pays It Forward” for the next soul in need.

— Bill

The month of August brought us rain just about every day of the month.  I believe there were only about three or four days where we didn’t receive a nice thunderstorm.  Some days, we were greeted with multiple storms throughout the day.  For the last couple weeks however, it has been somewhat dry here in Venice, FL.  I’ve always loved the sound of a thunderstorm…as long as it wasn’t of the destructive nature.  The sound of thunder, the crashing of waves, the sound of rain against the roof.  Hmm, all of these have “water” at their core.  Life giving water.

The last few weeks have also opened my eyes to recognize the lessons I’ve known for years…that I must constantly keep at the forefront of all that I attempt.  Everything in the universe demands the payment of balance.  Sometimes it’s difficult for me to keep that truth in my mind and my actions.  Living life in the extremities will only bring you strife and disappointment.  Moderation.

— Bill

NOTE:  This post has a creation date of 2019-08-12.  I’m tired right now…but I tried my best to complete it (for now).  This post is to be the beginning of trying to share the overwhelming amount of loneliness I’m trying to conquer.

Heather and I splurged a little today and went to Cracker Barrel for lunch (brunch). I believe we arrived just as most of the early “church diners” were heading out. It was nice spending some time with my wife…somewhere besides the interior of this condo.

As we finished our food and are sitting in the car, Heather asked if I was in a hurry to get home. Sat and thought about for a few seconds and told her, no.

“What do you have in mind?”, I asked.

She suggested a short drive down to Manasota Beach. There is a covered pavilion and usable restrooms.

Of course, we have nothing in our vehicle that resembles a beach bag and supplies. We had one beach chair and one of fabric folding chair. We made it work. Overcast skies and a steady breeze made our time at the beach much more enjoyable. Yeah, the humidity is a little rough…feels like there is glue in the wind…but even “I” found it tolerable.

We are convinced that today was rednecks, white socks, and blue ribbon beer day at the beach. Maybe it’s my scruffy beard (growing it out due to a medication side-effect) that attracts the chain smokers, trash mouths, and cheap beer drinking white trash beachcombers. I’m serious here…with the beer belly, salt & pepper hair, and old Labrador Retriever ghost white beard that says, “…that fella reminds me of my cousin Bubba up in Plant City. He’s safe to plant @$$ next to…pop the top on a cold one, and light up a smoke.”

AHHHHH!!!!!!! Wrong.

Carcinogens set aside, we really had a good time listening to the waves and the tranquility they always offer.

On our way back home, we decided to spend just a “little” more money for our “Date Day” (…usually Date Night…but shoving as much money in to savings has kinda left us getting creative on a very tight budget…) and find a locally owned pizza shop. Amore’s on US-41 was the choice. The owner, Ray, was tonight’s waiter (...he gave his waitress the night off so she could get her three children ready for first day of school tomorrow). As I’ve discovered…very few people in this area (Venice, FL) are actually native Floridians. Ray for example moved here from Detroit. He’s been operating his pizza business for eighteen years he told us.

I’ve known for a long time, I am “in this world, but I’m not of it”.

Let’s step back to the beach for a minute. As I closed my eyes, and just listened…a sense of being “out of place” came over me. I can’t say it was a negative or positive experience. I just felt a strange feeling where the waves, the voices, and my senses were telling me…”you’re not home yet”.

Yes, there’s always the distance from where I was uprooted that can provoke similar emotions…but this was a little different.  Sometimes I’m not sure where I am.  I wake up and it takes me a while to figure out where I am.  Given how long we’ve been down here…you would think I would have acclimated myself to our new home and all the great things around us to take advantage off at any time.  Being here has taken a case of separation induced stress with the subsequent loneliness that transpires and amplified it about 100 times.  Loneliness is real…and it hurts in so many ways.

— Bill