The Highlights

"O simple ones, learn prudence; O fools, learn sense." Proverbs 8:5

Location Everywhere:

Hamilton Heights where cleavage baring Puerto Ricans call pasty white boys, niggers on 141st Street. Hamilton Heights where runny nosed babies stand barefoot on wet pavement to catch a glimpse of Ice T in black leather. Hamilton Heights where rust colored roaches crawl up the walls and over greasy cardboard boxes of Popeye's chicken. Where fiercely obese women in yellow sweats wearing out the elastic waist bands, sit in lawn chairs and litter their patch of shit stained dirt with Swisher Sweet butts and paper cups. Where the rookie cops straight out of the academy stand on the corner with proud freshly shaved baby faces, working in hell for 25k a year cause they have fast legs. If they can stand the beat here, they'll make it any where.

I hand out chocolate from craft services to the young boys on bikes cause its two in the morning, mom's not around, and they look hungry. The teamsters keep encouraging me to call a car service at wrap, cause the hooded rats are waiting to pounce as I walk to the train.

Hamilton Heights where red lights are short. And the mind set for more out of life is waning.

Are we a sorry sight?

Cain vs. Unable 2012

Or has the liberal left decided he's too black?

Must See TV

"May the favor of the Lord our God rest on us; establish the work of our hands for us— yes, establish the work of our hands."Psalm 90:17

Another day, another script approved by the producing powers that be...

Wrapped the 5th episode tonight and the minds of everyone involved journeys to the place of a viable reality...will we all be employed by season's end?

Now, I would be treading lightly to merely mention my current employer, considering the cast, crew, and teamsters in abundance crowded into the courtroom for our Sexual Harassment Seminar which was heavily laced with corporate policy (i.e. Do Not Use Company Name in any Social Media Outlet).

I like my job. I am a loyal servant.

But, I have my civilian concerns.

Are you watching?

Change Agent

"Your people will rebuild the ancient ruins and will raise up the age-old foundations; you will be called Repairer of Broken Walls, Restorer of Streets with Dwellings." Isaiah 58:12

I've gone quiet. Not just in my writing. But in my daily life in our broken, rotting society.

My pastor called my name aloud when he spoke of those sitting in the pew of Salvation in silence this morning.

When asked, I don't rebuke or refuse. But I've ceased in the initial offering. And my fortified wall is crumbling in the name of tolerance and the desire to be understood.

Jesus, Jesus, Jesus. It's only about Him. And when I've shared His word with anyone in my life, it has been to His glory and never to my demise.

If I'm accepted, it's because of Him. If I am shunned, it's because of Him.

Exalting His name is to my benefit and to the recipient of my sharing, a seed.

So I repent this morning, pray my words don't fall on deaf ears and remember this world is...

Just dessert dust and empty shadows,
All promises that turned to lies,
The gods offer fail and betray me,
You alone are truth and life.

So I'll worship only at the feet of Jesus,
His cup alone, my holy grail,
There'll be no other gods before Him,
Just Jesus only will never fail.

Are you convicted?

Courtesy of Ice and Rain

Don't we live the life?

I hope the Law and Order die hards start playing nice and embrace this girl...she's worth it.

State of the Union

Dear President Obama:
You are the thirteenth President under whom I have lived and unlike any of the others, you truly scare me.
You scare me because after months of exposure, I know nothing about you. You scare me because I do not know how you paid for your expensive Ivy League education and your upscale lifestyle and housing with no visible signs of support. You scare me because you did not spend the formative years of youth growing up in America and culturally you are not an American. You scare me because you have never run a company or met a payroll. You scare me because you have never had military experience, thus don't understand it at its core. You scare me because you lack humility and 'class', always blaming others.You scare me because for over half your life you have aligned yourself with radical extremists who hate America and you refuse to publicly denounce these radicals who wish to see America fail.. You scare me because you are a cheerleader for the 'blame America 'crowd and deliver this message abroad. You scare me because you want to change America to a European style country where the government sector dominates instead of the private sector. You scare me because you want to replace our health care systemwith a government controlled one. You scare me because you prefer 'wind mills' to responsibly capitalizing on our own vast oil, coal and shale reserves. You scare me because you want to kill the American capitalist goose that lays the golden egg which provides the highest standard of living in the world. You scare me because you have begun to use 'extortion' tactics against certain banks and corporations. You scare me because your own political party shrinks from challenging you on your wild and irresponsible spending proposals.You scare me because you will not openly listen to or even consider opposing points of view from intelligent people.You scare me because you falsely believe that you are both omnipotent and omniscient.You scare me because the media gives you a free pass on everything you do.You scare me because you demonize and want to silence the Limbaugh's, Hannity's, O'Reillys and Becks who offer opposing,conservative points of view. You scare me because you prefer controlling over governing. Finally, you scare me because if you serve a second term I will probably not feel safe in writing a similar letter in 8 years.

--Lou Pritchett

Nipped Bud

"The seed falling among the thorns refers to someone who hears the word, but the worries of this life and the deceitfulness of wealth choke the word, making it unfruitful." Matthew 13:22

The idea of ceasing all shenanigans of keeping up appearances that I have time and clever thought enough to continue this testifying blog has crossed my mushy mind all week.

Just the mere inner dialogue I have with myself over the last date/content of the most recent post is enough to make my already clenched neck seize up with unnecessary and unwanted stress.

Now, some of you may say, "Wow, she is dramatic."

But for those of you that already read my words know this is an accurate description and have no need to forgive me for just being true to form.

Following this rambling, I would like to make an announcement.

New York City has a powerful grasp and tight lock jaw that continues to be a beastly force to reckon with...and impedes juggling any other aspect of life that would require me being fully present and awake. (Evangelizing my faith, Keeping my butt up, Grocery shopping, to name a few.)

Moreover, on a daily basis I undecidedly come to the resounding realization and tangible doubt that I have or have not entered the home stretch of my stay here and will be heading south at the last Law and Order dun, dun. (That's May 1)

And in this uncertainty, I ask myself a few questions.

Spend wildly and soak it up along with the other irresponsible but fashionable spendthrifts?

Save NBC's good money they oddly pay me and hole up in my 400 square foot closet in the sky until winter passes then flee with (gasp) money in my pocket.

Quit writing?

Limit my blog to one or two quality posts where I have the brain function to grasp words with depth and meaning?

Join the crust punks in creating beds made of paper plates from Two Brothers Pizza's $1 slice sham?

Or turn my eyes towards Jesus, look full in his wonderful face, and know the things of life will grow strangely dim?

Too. Many. People.

Finally, all of you, be like-minded, be sympathetic, love one another, be compassionate and humble.” 1 Peter 3:8

Are cities God's will?

In Progress

To paraphrase Hemingway...First drafts are crap.

My writing group told me I should be writing an hour a day for days before revising for weeks.

Being the less than stellar student that I am, I wrote my last story the afternoon it was due.

Here is the humble beginning.

Her bloodshot eyes were open well before she heard the morning paper hit the screen door and land with a fateful thud onto the steps. She had been waiting for it. The incessant hum of her phone had ceased around 11 the night before and the four hours of restless sleep showed in her creamy butter skin. She turned her head towards the bay window, which was partially fogged over from 100% humidity and caught a small reflection of her old trophies still lined up on her Tom Blue dresser. Mama kept her room the way Samantha left it when she headed for the University of Alabama in hasty pursuit of her MRS Degree.

“Giants Tears.” She said.

That’s what her daddy used to call the rain. Her voice cracked as she swung her French manicured feet onto the dusty pink shag carpet. She reached for the orange canister of mothers little helpers on her water-stained nightstand. Threw a couple of them back and cinched her robe tight. Heavy raindrops fell on the broken brick patio, pooling in the cracked grout. The ambitious paperboy put his prepubescent muscle into it so that the majority of The Birmingham Ledger had come free if its plastic bag and soaked through to the sports section. But even the rain couldn’t wash away this mess. There was the headline in bold Times New Roman. And the 3x5 color photo she begged the photographer to relinquish to her, bleeding across the front page. Despite the simple small town writing, the scathing story read the way she feared.

Scandal, Inheritance, Meager Upbringing, Promiscuity.

She skipped down to the last line. Mrs. Samantha Thomas is married to the RC Cola heir, William John Thomas III. He couldn’t be reached for comment. The pain tore into her gut as she fought to keep last night’s memory and the bottle of Knob Creek at bay. She couldn’t undo this. Not this time.

She sat at her mom’s old breakfast table drinking instant coffee out of a chipped Amelia’s Island mug. Her Blackberry rested on her Grandmama’s crocheted tablecloth. It’s blinking red light distracting her from her new grim reality. She picked it up and thumbed through the messages.

One from Mary Ryan marked urgent. “Are we still on for brunch?”

The stylized ritual of meeting for Sunday morning brunch started shortly after their ten-year reunion from Birmingham High School. They had all agreed they needed to get back together and catch up on the fleeting years that bridged braces to crow’s feet... It only took a couple of meetings when the Sunday excursion became each and every one of their vices in their otherwise vacuous worlds.

Of course she would be there. But she’d be a while; she was on the south side of town at her parent’s house.

Crimson Creek was a quaint and pretentious neighborhood in the heart of Birmingham. Obvious that it had once had a unique local appeal, it was now overrun with overpriced clothing boutiques, skinny latte coffee shops, and the latest trend in farm to table restaurants. It was their haven. And the perfect opportunity to showcase a new linen pantsuit or don the turquoise necklace purchased on the last trip to Santa Fe.

In the foyer of the restaurant, B'hams finest stood proud in their Prada shoes hiding their jealous glares and darting eyes behind designer sunglasses. Yes, while the rest of the world were climbing into their Sunday clothes thread bare with pew warming, the cosmopolitan were sipping champagne and spreading good cheer and hot air while making the crucial decision between the lox omelet and creamy eggs Benedict. But hopefully not reading the Sunday paper.

Mary Ryan and Elizabeth were already seated in the back of the restaurant shifting in their seats like worried hens, when the infamous little giggle came around the corner and clicked her kitten heels in perfect rhythm towards them, running her fingers through her perfect blond curls. She looked unscathed.

“Oh you cute things don’t get up. I am sorry I am a tad late, have you been waiting long?”

She eyed their half full mimosas stained with lip-gloss and bent down and gave each of the women a quick peck on the cheek. She smelled like fresh lilies in the morning.

He Weeps...

"If my people who are called by my name humble themselves, and pray and seek my face and turn from their wicked ways, then I will hear from heaven and will forgive their sin and heal their land." 2 Chronicles 7:14

Remember Today, Everyday.

And turn your thoughts, words, and deeds to heaven because He is the only way for our country's salvation.

Dichotomy

"Precious treasure and oil are in a wise man's dwelling, but a foolish man devours it." Proverbs 21:20

Missed the big job talk. Thank God.

Was anyone listening anyway?

Spent the sunset hours on the stoop of rundown row houses in ChinaTown watching the Tai Chi loyalists dance amongst the rotting fish smell so commonplace beneath the Manhattan Bridge.

In between takes, Mariska, Kelli, Ice, and Danny put up their feet in their lavish full size trailers, drove to set by more than compensated Teamsters and lined up, with paid for street parking permits issued by Bloomberg's office.

In other big spending industry news....>>All ABoardWalk

Labor:Taking It Up The Ass

"We were not idle when we were with you, nor did we eat anyone’s food without paying for it. On the contrary, we worked night and day, laboring and toiling so that we would not be a burden to any of you. We did this, not because we do not have the right to such help, but in order to offer ourselves as a model for you to imitate. For even when we were with you, we gave you this rule: “The one who is unwilling to work shall not eat.”2 Thessalonians 3:7-10

Where is our President today?

Rubbing elbows with his union comrades in Detroit.

Still counting down the days until the "Big Speech" on jobs.

Waiting with baited breath after the government just reported that not a single job, none, nada, was created last month.

Whatever he plans to say will be theoretical. And nothing, not one thing, nada that he can say will make the American people feel better.

Upon inauguration, Obama said his stimulus would create 3 million jobs and to brace ourselves shovel ready for the influx....Today, 3 million nearly lost.

American dream you say?

Obama's anti-capitalist witch hunt, disguised as compassion and environmentally friendly is shattering the best job making machine nation we've ever known.

MILLIONS are out of work or stuck in part time jobs.

Now follow me...You are the President....You have grand ideas for creating thousands of jobs...Do you wait to unveil this to the citizens on unemployment who are dependent on the government for food, water, and wiping of their asses.

NO.

Do you pump $863 billion dollars of federal tax dollars straight into our economy, the largest amount in American history to trick and shock our hearts into hard working, tenacious, prideful people again.

Oh wait, you already did that.

It didn't work.

So what's the scheme forThursday?

A photo op. A ploy to save one man's job come next election.

Or plans to put up more bureaucratic red tape to suffocate the last bit of life out of the United States.

Mmmm?

New Yorker Syndrome

"I appeal to you, brothers, to watch out for those who cause divisions and create obstacles contrary to the doctrine that you have been taught; avoid them. For such persons do not serve our Lord Christ, but their own appetites, and by smooth talk and flattery they deceive the hearts of the naive." Romans 16:17-18

Ever had a quasi friend that challenged every one of your words or deeds spoken or done with a self righteous and antagonistic tone that was self serving and meant specifically to elevate themselves and squash your spirit?

Me too.

And I place the emphasis on HAD.

Two Minute Warning

"Like arrows in the hands of a warrior are children born in one’s youth. Blessed is the man whose quiver is full of them." Psalm 127:4-5

I just hung up the phone with my 92 year old Grandma.

She told me she had crocheted a baby's blanket for us six years ago when we got engaged.

And finally just sold it in a tag sale.

A done deal.

My sentiments exactly.

I can come up with every excuse not to, so what's with everyone else making the opposing call?

And is my time running out?

A Statistic

"Better to live on a corner of the roof than share a house with a quarrelsome wife." Proverbs 21:9

In nine years of togetherness, it is blatantly understood and verbally admitted that my husband and I are considerably more agreeable on vacation.

What should I do about the other 50 weeks?

*L&O SVU has been taping for one month, eight months more to follow.