Feast of the Holy Family: St. Paul's; Fr. Kevin; "Abba Father"; On DADA
MP3 File
Sunday, December 30, 2007
Friday, December 28, 2007
Tis the Season----the poem
(Ed. note: I found this short poem scribbled on a crumpled piece of paper and stuffed into the mesh bag on the back of a motorized wheel chair carelessly parked near the bridge that crosses Allen Creek. After extensive analysis, I have discovered the words and have faithfully reprinted it without any editing.)
To Everything
Turn
Turn
Turn
That was the chant
or was
it the
rant
Tis the Season
To
Remember
or Season to
Forget
Which
is Best
I
cannot recall....
Time to
Build
or
Time
to
Flood
Which it
was
I
forget or
was it
pump
Time to
Love
or
Time to
Hate
Which it
Was
I
Forget.....
or was it
Regret
Time to
Pray
or was it
Lie
So hard
to know
the reason
why
Time to
MAP
or Time
to
lie and
then
map
Tis the
Season
To Everything
Turn
Turn
Turn
That was the chant
or was
it the
rant
Tis the Season
To
Remember
or Season to
Forget
Which
is Best
I
cannot recall....
Time to
Build
or
Time
to
Flood
Which it
was
I
forget or
was it
pump
Time to
Love
or
Time to
Hate
Which it
Was
I
Forget.....
or was it
Regret
Time to
Pray
or was it
Lie
So hard
to know
the reason
why
Time to
MAP
or Time
to
lie and
then
map
Tis the
Season
Monday, December 24, 2007
Sermon: Fr. Kevin Dooley 12-23-2007
"The Trust and Faith of Joseph"---sermon of Fr. Kevin Dooley of St. Paul's Church on 12-23-2007
MP3 File
MP3 File
Sunday, December 23, 2007
"The Observer Prayer"
Thursday, September 01, 2005
The Observer Prayer
Lord
When I was young
I had answers,
Now, I have only
questions
Teach me when I think I have the truth,
to pause and just ask
Questions,
and then shut up and
Listen
Teach me where there is
strident certainty
to look for
fear
and where there is difference
to look for
unity
When I face those who
think they are
self made and independent
Lord, remind me that all that is
beautiful and strong
You created in abundance for
free
Finally, Lord,
In the midst of a battle
Remind me to just wear
My Observer hat and
Observe
The Observer Prayer
Lord
When I was young
I had answers,
Now, I have only
questions
Teach me when I think I have the truth,
to pause and just ask
Questions,
and then shut up and
Listen
Teach me where there is
strident certainty
to look for
fear
and where there is difference
to look for
unity
When I face those who
think they are
self made and independent
Lord, remind me that all that is
beautiful and strong
You created in abundance for
free
Finally, Lord,
In the midst of a battle
Remind me to just wear
My Observer hat and
Observe
Wednesday, December 19, 2007
"The Grinch that Stole Christmas"---or the power of positive accounting
This morning, Morgan Stanley, the distinguished financial services firm on Wall Street, announced that their earning loss for the quarter was ten times larger than they expected----no problem though, they had secured a large investment of cash from some foreign company.
One always looks to these revered financial firms as role models----the problem of course is that the average homeowner or retired American cannot have an oil shiek help with a cash infusion in a time of financial pinch. I have the ability to call on Skype. but just do not have the correct numbers.. The telephone numbers as well as the collateral.....
It has been years, and maybe a generation since folks have had to look at the accounting of things on a cash basis----it has become only a faint memory. In the Visa commercial, where everyone is in line, and the customers are speeding through the checkoutline with fabulous precision, the one grinch that snarls up the works is the person with "cash." What a foreign concept. Actually paying in current time for products is a very weird concept. Especially weird at Christmas, where I bet over 95 % of all sales are on credit cards.
Recessions mark a time of change in accounting psychology, and we are seeing it right now---although the power of denial is very strong in many folks. In every mind, there is the split accounting system---the power of positive accounting system that folks have been living with over the past 20 years or so----- and then the CASH basis accounting, which is NOT welcome, and has become the "Grinch" of Christmas.
So---What's in your wallet? What is in your Heart?
It might just be that to get the answer "JOY" for the second question, you will need to answer CASH in the first.
One always looks to these revered financial firms as role models----the problem of course is that the average homeowner or retired American cannot have an oil shiek help with a cash infusion in a time of financial pinch. I have the ability to call on Skype. but just do not have the correct numbers.. The telephone numbers as well as the collateral.....
It has been years, and maybe a generation since folks have had to look at the accounting of things on a cash basis----it has become only a faint memory. In the Visa commercial, where everyone is in line, and the customers are speeding through the checkoutline with fabulous precision, the one grinch that snarls up the works is the person with "cash." What a foreign concept. Actually paying in current time for products is a very weird concept. Especially weird at Christmas, where I bet over 95 % of all sales are on credit cards.
Recessions mark a time of change in accounting psychology, and we are seeing it right now---although the power of denial is very strong in many folks. In every mind, there is the split accounting system---the power of positive accounting system that folks have been living with over the past 20 years or so----- and then the CASH basis accounting, which is NOT welcome, and has become the "Grinch" of Christmas.
So---What's in your wallet? What is in your Heart?
It might just be that to get the answer "JOY" for the second question, you will need to answer CASH in the first.
Sunday, December 16, 2007
St. Paul's; December 16, 2007
Third Sunday in Advent: "Rejoice"---on the meaning of rejoice, on the entrance hymn for Easter Vigil, sung by Fr. Kevin Dooley
Thursday, December 13, 2007
"It is More than the Bricks that you Seek".....
Recently our town restored the brick street downtown, in an effort to revitalize the downtown business district.
On the way back from the ceremony of dedication, I happened to bump into a local historian and we chatted for a while. She asked me how I liked bricks. I mentioned that while I was a history major and indeed had specialized in the period of 1900 to 1930, and loved the homes, and indeed lived in one built in 1912 just identical to the one my grandpa had built himself in 1912, with the hardwood floors and such, I still felt that folks were really being nostalgic for something larger.
"What?" she asked.
"Well," I went on, in the days before World War I, there was a connectedness of small communities-----yes there is a size factor------and when folks remember the time of the bricked streets, it is really that close community that they miss. It was a real time once-----and only the bricks remain of it now.
Memories of Paul Hawthorne---
Years ago when I was in grade school, 8th grade, I sat on the isle next to the windows, and just to the right of the unabridged Wester dictionary. Yes. It has been a while since that dictionary was the total resource for learning beyond books. Right behind me sat one of my best friends---Paul Hawthorne.
We served at Mass together and played hockey down at the old Wildwood park area as you come into Mahtomedi. In the 1920's it had been where the ferris wheel was located, and as we skated, we could still see the pillars below the ice that had supported the giant ferris wheel---or at least we thought so.
Paul was often absent from school in those days. Mostly I remember how quiet and friendly he was. Sister Bernadine, our teacher, once said that Paul was having some health issues, and that we should all pray for him.
Then in March, I got the call. His sisters were having a special birthday party for Paul. He was turning 13. I offered to bring my short course golf flags and make a couple of holes to try out our skill. The sisters were going to have bowling downstairs in a makeshift bowling lane. And there was also ping pong. And there would be lots to eat. Saturday could not come soon enough.
The party started at 10am. Everyone from my class was there. It was the greatest party I had ever been to. Golf....bowling...ping pong....laughs...and everybody seemed to get along...and we all wished the party could go on forever.
Finally at 6PM, I headed home. Totally exhausted.
Two weeks later Sister Bernadine began class and quietly told us that Paul Hawthorne had died last night. From Hogskins Disease. It seemed it was a type of leukemia. Sister said that we would keep his desk empty the rest of the year in his memory.
Years ago, at the class reunion of 1996, a woman approached me and introduced herself. She said " Do you remember the party for Paul Hawthorne? I am his little sister."
"I sure do remember," I said. "And the courage and quiet strength of Paul during those days is something that has given me strength in difficult times. I will never forget."
We served at Mass together and played hockey down at the old Wildwood park area as you come into Mahtomedi. In the 1920's it had been where the ferris wheel was located, and as we skated, we could still see the pillars below the ice that had supported the giant ferris wheel---or at least we thought so.
Paul was often absent from school in those days. Mostly I remember how quiet and friendly he was. Sister Bernadine, our teacher, once said that Paul was having some health issues, and that we should all pray for him.
Then in March, I got the call. His sisters were having a special birthday party for Paul. He was turning 13. I offered to bring my short course golf flags and make a couple of holes to try out our skill. The sisters were going to have bowling downstairs in a makeshift bowling lane. And there was also ping pong. And there would be lots to eat. Saturday could not come soon enough.
The party started at 10am. Everyone from my class was there. It was the greatest party I had ever been to. Golf....bowling...ping pong....laughs...and everybody seemed to get along...and we all wished the party could go on forever.
Finally at 6PM, I headed home. Totally exhausted.
Two weeks later Sister Bernadine began class and quietly told us that Paul Hawthorne had died last night. From Hogskins Disease. It seemed it was a type of leukemia. Sister said that we would keep his desk empty the rest of the year in his memory.
Years ago, at the class reunion of 1996, a woman approached me and introduced herself. She said " Do you remember the party for Paul Hawthorne? I am his little sister."
"I sure do remember," I said. "And the courage and quiet strength of Paul during those days is something that has given me strength in difficult times. I will never forget."
Wednesday, December 12, 2007
The Wild West-----
There is a notion...and it has been pretty doggone persistent over a few hundred years, that back in them there pioneer days, there was just the natural ways...just the wild and free livin of truly lawless and unrestrained individuals-----
There is also the further notion, that if we could just somehow get back to those good old days of wild livin, free of a strong central government....and in fact free of all regulation and inhibition of any kind, that ....well.....we would be perfectly happy....and if one was a business owner....rich....which is the same thing.
As a young boy, I had the freedom to read all the stories of Wyatt Erpe. I know that there was a lot more law in them there parts than some folks remember. I know that the lawmen did their job. Many gun toting hombres were driven from town. Back when the frontier was the frontier. When saloons were saloons. When bricks were bricks. When good was good....and bad was just bad....and not bad to the bone.
There is also the further notion, that if we could just somehow get back to those good old days of wild livin, free of a strong central government....and in fact free of all regulation and inhibition of any kind, that ....well.....we would be perfectly happy....and if one was a business owner....rich....which is the same thing.
As a young boy, I had the freedom to read all the stories of Wyatt Erpe. I know that there was a lot more law in them there parts than some folks remember. I know that the lawmen did their job. Many gun toting hombres were driven from town. Back when the frontier was the frontier. When saloons were saloons. When bricks were bricks. When good was good....and bad was just bad....and not bad to the bone.
Sunday, December 9, 2007
Sermon of the Week: Fr. Kevin: 12-9-2007
The Dream: What Peace and Justice might look like--Something to think of as we approach Christmas.
"Boy Scout Sunday"
Last Sunday something unusual happened. It was December 2, and the First Sunday of Advent. Christmas shoppers took off a little time on Sunday morn to attend Church. As I entered one local church here in our fair city, I smelled natural gas. My nose has been finely tuned to the smell, and I went to the lower level and the smell got stronger. Others had noticed and had called the proper authorities to inspect.
The side doors to the Church were opened, and the service began. There was a slight interruption when the sirens stopped right outside the Church as the sermon began---and the sermon began with the text reminding folks to "Be Prepared" for the end of times. And noting that even at the time of the big flood, with Noah building the ark and all, the neighbors went about their business with the normal festivities, weddings and carousing of the time. They saw Noah, but just figured it was some guy that was on the edge.
When the pastor began the sermon, he noted that this Sunday was pretty simple----the message was "Be Prepared." This is the time for preparation and not the shopping frenzy.
I liked the sermon. I even got the "Be Prepared" message without the natural gas smell. I have always loved shopping at the last minute anyway, or better yet with gift cards so the person receiving gets those great after Christmas bargains. It seems the way this season is going, all of America is on board for the after Christmas bargains.
Finally----the spirit of Be Prepared and the secular bargain thang are in perfect synch.
So---prepare----wait-----there is plenty of time to shop. Later.
The side doors to the Church were opened, and the service began. There was a slight interruption when the sirens stopped right outside the Church as the sermon began---and the sermon began with the text reminding folks to "Be Prepared" for the end of times. And noting that even at the time of the big flood, with Noah building the ark and all, the neighbors went about their business with the normal festivities, weddings and carousing of the time. They saw Noah, but just figured it was some guy that was on the edge.
When the pastor began the sermon, he noted that this Sunday was pretty simple----the message was "Be Prepared." This is the time for preparation and not the shopping frenzy.
I liked the sermon. I even got the "Be Prepared" message without the natural gas smell. I have always loved shopping at the last minute anyway, or better yet with gift cards so the person receiving gets those great after Christmas bargains. It seems the way this season is going, all of America is on board for the after Christmas bargains.
Finally----the spirit of Be Prepared and the secular bargain thang are in perfect synch.
So---prepare----wait-----there is plenty of time to shop. Later.
Sunday, December 2, 2007
Wednesday, November 28, 2007
"What the "Market" told me last night
Thursday, October 04, 2007
The Dream: What the "Market" told me ....last night.---FICTION"
Well, it's been a long week, with the national news and all, and Alan Greenspan who was so forceful telling everyone on his book signing tour that the real estate market would go down 20% and had just begun, and then just today changed his mind and said things had bottomed out. Maybe his book sales had turned the whole thing around.
I have always had a habit of saving the Wall Street Journal, and then NOT reading it every day, but after two weeks, picking up the daily and seeing what had been pretty accurate stories and what had been flim flam.
Nothing like letting the facts settle a bit BEFORE you read it, rather than AFTER. It sure makes things real efficient. The problem is with most daily papers that are carried on the internet......the stories are deleted after a few days. That makes checking the facts later difficult..............................
Last night, in the very middle of the night, I awoke in a startle. It seemed I heard the "Market" calling me. At first it was pretty faint, but it gradually got louder and louder.
The person had a little sign on his chest that said "MARKET" and asked whether I was listening. I replied; "YES. Please speak."
Then he said:
"We are in a National Housing Slowdown.
This means that there are too many houses
TOO MANY HOUSES
DO NOT BUILD MORE
Wait till the surplus is taken and then proceed."
Understand? "Yes" I replied. Then he went on.
There are several causes to the current distress
The financial sector is troubled by mortgage fraud by brokers...so
regulate them and punish the wrongdoers....
"Understand? "Yes" I replied. Then he went on.
I understand some of you think that your local administrator, Mr. Connors caused
the national housing problems. He was a powerful guy. But...... No ----He did not cause
the national housing crisis. If you still think he did, I suggest counseling."
Then he vanished.
It sure is good to listen to the market, even when it comes in a dream.
Posted by Evansville Observer at 10:09 PM
1 comments:
Mr. Obvious said...
Its too bad someone else didn't have that same dream instead of putting 10 more pounds of houses into our areas five pound capacity.
I'm sure the city will be proactive with this issue just like they are in every other hot button; fences, signs. Good thing we have some nice looking fences on those forclosed homes.
The Dream: What the "Market" told me ....last night.---FICTION"
Well, it's been a long week, with the national news and all, and Alan Greenspan who was so forceful telling everyone on his book signing tour that the real estate market would go down 20% and had just begun, and then just today changed his mind and said things had bottomed out. Maybe his book sales had turned the whole thing around.
I have always had a habit of saving the Wall Street Journal, and then NOT reading it every day, but after two weeks, picking up the daily and seeing what had been pretty accurate stories and what had been flim flam.
Nothing like letting the facts settle a bit BEFORE you read it, rather than AFTER. It sure makes things real efficient. The problem is with most daily papers that are carried on the internet......the stories are deleted after a few days. That makes checking the facts later difficult..............................
Last night, in the very middle of the night, I awoke in a startle. It seemed I heard the "Market" calling me. At first it was pretty faint, but it gradually got louder and louder.
The person had a little sign on his chest that said "MARKET" and asked whether I was listening. I replied; "YES. Please speak."
Then he said:
"We are in a National Housing Slowdown.
This means that there are too many houses
TOO MANY HOUSES
DO NOT BUILD MORE
Wait till the surplus is taken and then proceed."
Understand? "Yes" I replied. Then he went on.
There are several causes to the current distress
The financial sector is troubled by mortgage fraud by brokers...so
regulate them and punish the wrongdoers....
"Understand? "Yes" I replied. Then he went on.
I understand some of you think that your local administrator, Mr. Connors caused
the national housing problems. He was a powerful guy. But...... No ----He did not cause
the national housing crisis. If you still think he did, I suggest counseling."
Then he vanished.
It sure is good to listen to the market, even when it comes in a dream.
Posted by Evansville Observer at 10:09 PM
1 comments:
Mr. Obvious said...
Its too bad someone else didn't have that same dream instead of putting 10 more pounds of houses into our areas five pound capacity.
I'm sure the city will be proactive with this issue just like they are in every other hot button; fences, signs. Good thing we have some nice looking fences on those forclosed homes.
Tuesday, November 27, 2007
"Napkin Dreams"---a true story
Napkin Dreams
Napkin Dreams
When I was in my late 20’s, each year it seemed to get harder and harder for the guys to get together for the frequent parties we had enjoyed previously. It especially got hard once the guys started getting married and having kids. So, we began the tradition of each fall having a camping weekend. It was mandatory. Bring the wife. Bring the kids. But show up by 9PM at the campfire. We called this “check in.”
One Friday eve, about 9pm we all showed up at a campground near Sugar River, MN. Tom, a rising legal star, was next standing next to Craig, a rising architect. W e were going through what management gurus call “opening round”. Each was sharing a beer. “Well, Craig said, How are things?” Tom replied, “Do you mean personally or professionally?” Craig responded, “Both.”
“Professionally things are great. I just argued a case before the Supreme Court last week and I think we won. You may have heard about it in the news. Personally though, I am going through a messy divorce and it is the pits. I have been sitting in my shack on Lake Calhoun and just am really determined to begin a new life.”
“Well,” Craig said, “ what’s wrong with the “shack’? “Everything-- It’s just a four square bungalow and I really need a beautiful chalet.”
Which side of the lake? “ Craig asked. “South side? “Yes”, Tom responded.
“Well,” Craig said,’ Has anyone got a piece of paper or anything.” Everybody at the campfire searched. “Nope.” Finally, Cindy yelled from the tent where she was just putting two young ones to bed. “How about a Bounty napkin? “ “Yes, that would do,”Craig yelled.
Getting situated with the bounty napkin on a large piece of wood, Craig said. “ I think this is going to require a beer or two.” Quickly Tom yelled out “Get this man a beer!
Craig then went over the fact that because the home was on the south side of the lake, it was in a great position for a view, except for the fact that it had poorly placed windows and was not high enough. Then he sketched how Tom might change the design
to fully utilize the lighting.
Furthermore, if you added a third story---admittedly a “periscope” on the very top of the house, you would have yourself a magical law office that would have a fabulous view of the whole lake. He then sketched how it would look.
As we looked around the campfire glow, everyone had a look as though if Tom did not build it, one of the others would. Tom, however, was very excited about it.
Then Craig tore off the excess Bounty napkin in a flourish and handed the design to Tom. Tom folded it gently and headed to his tent. “We’ll need a little more detail so you can build from it, but that is the beginning,” Craig yelled. Everyone laughed.
If you drive along the south side of Lake Calhoun in Minneapolis, you will see a beautiful tri level home, with the third story that looks like a large periscope. It was once just a shack but now is probably a million-dollar home.
Over the years I have marveled at how large dreams can begin in a very small fashion, and even on just a napkin. However, you do have to have the napkins. Just words and stories will not do.
As I have told this story often in Minnesota and Wisconsin, the question always comes up, “What kind of beer was it?”
I suppose the fantasy is that one could have a large dream with just cheap beer. All I know is that it was not Cold Spring beer. It was a fine dark German lager. After all, it is my story.
Napkin Dreams
When I was in my late 20’s, each year it seemed to get harder and harder for the guys to get together for the frequent parties we had enjoyed previously. It especially got hard once the guys started getting married and having kids. So, we began the tradition of each fall having a camping weekend. It was mandatory. Bring the wife. Bring the kids. But show up by 9PM at the campfire. We called this “check in.”
One Friday eve, about 9pm we all showed up at a campground near Sugar River, MN. Tom, a rising legal star, was next standing next to Craig, a rising architect. W e were going through what management gurus call “opening round”. Each was sharing a beer. “Well, Craig said, How are things?” Tom replied, “Do you mean personally or professionally?” Craig responded, “Both.”
“Professionally things are great. I just argued a case before the Supreme Court last week and I think we won. You may have heard about it in the news. Personally though, I am going through a messy divorce and it is the pits. I have been sitting in my shack on Lake Calhoun and just am really determined to begin a new life.”
“Well,” Craig said, “ what’s wrong with the “shack’? “Everything-- It’s just a four square bungalow and I really need a beautiful chalet.”
Which side of the lake? “ Craig asked. “South side? “Yes”, Tom responded.
“Well,” Craig said,’ Has anyone got a piece of paper or anything.” Everybody at the campfire searched. “Nope.” Finally, Cindy yelled from the tent where she was just putting two young ones to bed. “How about a Bounty napkin? “ “Yes, that would do,”Craig yelled.
Getting situated with the bounty napkin on a large piece of wood, Craig said. “ I think this is going to require a beer or two.” Quickly Tom yelled out “Get this man a beer!
Craig then went over the fact that because the home was on the south side of the lake, it was in a great position for a view, except for the fact that it had poorly placed windows and was not high enough. Then he sketched how Tom might change the design
to fully utilize the lighting.
Furthermore, if you added a third story---admittedly a “periscope” on the very top of the house, you would have yourself a magical law office that would have a fabulous view of the whole lake. He then sketched how it would look.
As we looked around the campfire glow, everyone had a look as though if Tom did not build it, one of the others would. Tom, however, was very excited about it.
Then Craig tore off the excess Bounty napkin in a flourish and handed the design to Tom. Tom folded it gently and headed to his tent. “We’ll need a little more detail so you can build from it, but that is the beginning,” Craig yelled. Everyone laughed.
If you drive along the south side of Lake Calhoun in Minneapolis, you will see a beautiful tri level home, with the third story that looks like a large periscope. It was once just a shack but now is probably a million-dollar home.
Over the years I have marveled at how large dreams can begin in a very small fashion, and even on just a napkin. However, you do have to have the napkins. Just words and stories will not do.
As I have told this story often in Minnesota and Wisconsin, the question always comes up, “What kind of beer was it?”
I suppose the fantasy is that one could have a large dream with just cheap beer. All I know is that it was not Cold Spring beer. It was a fine dark German lager. After all, it is my story.
"Yike"---a true story
Wednesday, August 09, 2006
"Yike"----a true story
Monday night I had forgotten a key ingredient for grilling, so I rushed back to the Piggly Wiggly to get it.
In the checkout line just behind me was a young father and his son, about 4yr.old. As I was writing out the check, I heard the boy ask, "What's this dad?" His dad replied, "That's a peanut bar."
"I yike peanuts, Dad! I really yike them. Can I have one?"
"NO, son, the father replied."
Then the son said, "What's this dad?"
"That's a choclate bar."
"I yike choclate! I really, really yike chocolate. Oh can't I have one?"
"No son," he said firmly, but gently.
I was tempted, as I was possibly the only phonics trained person in the checkout line, to take a moment and go over how to pronounce the "l" sound, with the tounge pressed to the top of the mouth. It was easy to master and I know I could have changed the "yike" in short order.
On reflection, I realized how lucky this youngster was to have such a fine dad and that what was being taught here was far more than just a little consonant sound. That could be dealt with later.
Yes. The more I listened to the young boy say "I yike peanuts dad," the more I was getting the idea that maybe I needed one too. I too have always yiked them.
But the triumph was I got out of there without a chocolate or peanute bar. Alleluia.
"Yike"----a true story
Monday night I had forgotten a key ingredient for grilling, so I rushed back to the Piggly Wiggly to get it.
In the checkout line just behind me was a young father and his son, about 4yr.old. As I was writing out the check, I heard the boy ask, "What's this dad?" His dad replied, "That's a peanut bar."
"I yike peanuts, Dad! I really yike them. Can I have one?"
"NO, son, the father replied."
Then the son said, "What's this dad?"
"That's a choclate bar."
"I yike choclate! I really, really yike chocolate. Oh can't I have one?"
"No son," he said firmly, but gently.
I was tempted, as I was possibly the only phonics trained person in the checkout line, to take a moment and go over how to pronounce the "l" sound, with the tounge pressed to the top of the mouth. It was easy to master and I know I could have changed the "yike" in short order.
On reflection, I realized how lucky this youngster was to have such a fine dad and that what was being taught here was far more than just a little consonant sound. That could be dealt with later.
Yes. The more I listened to the young boy say "I yike peanuts dad," the more I was getting the idea that maybe I needed one too. I too have always yiked them.
But the triumph was I got out of there without a chocolate or peanute bar. Alleluia.
Sunday, November 25, 2007
The Sermons of Pastor Bob Schaefer---written and audio
Pastor Bob Schaefer served as a pastor in Evansville for a brief time---however--he has recorded on audio and in print a wealth of sermons over his entire career, even including some sermons he delivered as a seminarian.
Evan though I have never met Pastor Bob Schaefer, I have enjoyed reading some of his sermons and have linked to them so that readers may review them at their leisure.
Click on the post for the sermons or find them on the right side of the blog.
Evan though I have never met Pastor Bob Schaefer, I have enjoyed reading some of his sermons and have linked to them so that readers may review them at their leisure.
Click on the post for the sermons or find them on the right side of the blog.
Saturday, November 24, 2007
OpEd: "The Past is Gone"------
OpEd; "Past results do not guarantee future performance."
If you do not remember this phrase, you are probably too young to read this post.
In virtually every mutual fund brochure or prospectus for a unit trust of whatever investment, there is the caution...... after of course the investment representative has gone over the wonderful result if..... in theoretical terms..... you had invested ....$1....at the Crash of 1929 and invested that in this particular investment....you would have had the wonderful result listed above....." and after speaking of those wonderful theoretical results, there is the caution about ...."Past Results do not guarantee future performance..."
Recently, in Evansville, in our own school projections for future school demand for facilities, whether we looked at population projection or building permit historical data, nobody wanted to read the warning----"Past results do not guarantee future performance."
Even in the Evansville City budget, the city financial consultant, Greg Johnson, from Ehlers and Associates stated that "proceeding forward with no further General Obligation debt, the future seems to be no problem with debt capacity." The problem, of course, was pointed out by Fred Juergens, who counted 5 million in dreams that were penciled in on the capital investment budget for the year around 2009.
It seems we always, as human beings, want the pro forma future not to include the unfortunate expenses of the reality of the things on the horizon.
I could go on about flashing lights from dashboards of cars re warnings, but.....I think you get the jist. As a stress reliever, it is important to manage stress and ...a little denial is good. Sometimes....the denial gets too large.
Make a note of it.
If you do not remember this phrase, you are probably too young to read this post.
In virtually every mutual fund brochure or prospectus for a unit trust of whatever investment, there is the caution...... after of course the investment representative has gone over the wonderful result if..... in theoretical terms..... you had invested ....$1....at the Crash of 1929 and invested that in this particular investment....you would have had the wonderful result listed above....." and after speaking of those wonderful theoretical results, there is the caution about ...."Past Results do not guarantee future performance..."
Recently, in Evansville, in our own school projections for future school demand for facilities, whether we looked at population projection or building permit historical data, nobody wanted to read the warning----"Past results do not guarantee future performance."
Even in the Evansville City budget, the city financial consultant, Greg Johnson, from Ehlers and Associates stated that "proceeding forward with no further General Obligation debt, the future seems to be no problem with debt capacity." The problem, of course, was pointed out by Fred Juergens, who counted 5 million in dreams that were penciled in on the capital investment budget for the year around 2009.
It seems we always, as human beings, want the pro forma future not to include the unfortunate expenses of the reality of the things on the horizon.
I could go on about flashing lights from dashboards of cars re warnings, but.....I think you get the jist. As a stress reliever, it is important to manage stress and ...a little denial is good. Sometimes....the denial gets too large.
Make a note of it.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
