The Way

One way to do it, he says, is to douse yourself in
alcohol and set your bed on fire.

In the hole men chew their veins out; now that’s
ambition!

These are lectures on Blood and the Way.

With God’s love we are never abandoned.

He is the way and a way out

–unlock–pull trigger–

“I’m a hustler, he says, I never go back to
the same trick twice for a cigarette!”

As a finale we laugh ourselves to death.

Rob Goldstein (c) 2014-2017 All Rights Reserved

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The Executive

The alarm rang and the radio spat news.

Bonwit Teller opened his eyes to a foggy San Francisco morning.

He threw off the comforter, angrily pulled down the shades, and
crawled back into bed.

The phone rang

“Hi Bonwit, it’s Jerry. This is your wake-up call per your request.”
“Hi Jerry”
“Are you up?”
“Yes”
“That was a helluva rant you gave last night”
“Which one? I was drunk.”
“About old man Lazaro.”

Bonwit sat up.

Jerry continued: “You made old man Lazaro look like a jackass.”

Bonwit answered: “I guess I owe him an apology. I say wicked things
when I’m drunk. Thanks for the wake-up Jerry.”

Market Street looked like the Exodus scene from the Ten Commandments.

“Let my people go,” Bonwit heard a beggar say.

He dropped some cash into the beggars’ cup and hurried into
the underground.

He saw the same beggar sitting cross-legged in front of the
ticket machine.

He held a sign that read: “Dying from AIDS. Please help me.”

Bonwit dropped some cash into his cup and hurried onto
the platform.

The N-Judah to Ocean Beach arrived; Bonwit was desperate
to take it.

He wanted to run from the Financial District and its beggars who follow him everywhere, who sit in front of the Pyramid and glare at him: as if he is the one who stripped them of everything and left them to starve.

“They glare at me.,” Bonwit muttered to himself. “Not my secretary; not
old man Lazaro.”

Lazaro’s face formed in his mind; boyish yet old; kind yet cruel.

Bonwit spat on that face and remembered his rage at last night’s dinner.

Lazaro compared Bonwit to a General in a noble army.

“That’s what you are.” Lazaro said. “And the sales force is your troops. They depend on you for supplies and protection. Think of our company as a complex system of privileges and obligations. Your people need you Bonwit.”

“I’m just a fucking travel agent and you’re just an old queen!” Bonwit drunkenly snarled.

Bonwit rose from the Montgomery Street Station and walked to the Pyramid.

The skyscrapers sprouted arms and hands; they pointed at him
and jeered.

Bonwit entered the elevator and felt his stomach drop.

Bonwit thought; I am truly a pain in the ass.

As if I don’t know why I’m here.

I am Master.  It’s that simple.

The doors opened onto the thirteenth floor and Bonwit smiled benevolently at the housekeeper. “Good morning Violet.”

“’’Morning Mister Teller.”

“Have I met my obligations to you this week?”

“I got a paycheck if that’s what you mean?”

“I’m so pleased.” Bonwit replied.

He entered his office and rang his secretary: “Mary, will you call the Whiskey Shop and have a bottle of Macallan 1939 delivered to Mr. Lazaro?

“Yes Mr. Teller. Mr. Lazaro is in his office and wants to meet with you.”

Bonwit entered Lazaro’s office and took a seat.

Lazaro glared at him. “Bonwit, darling! You’re late.”

“I walked this morning.”

“That’s terrible for the waistline! I’m removing you from the Texaco Account. Shirley complained this morning.”

“About what.”

“She said Hal’s tickets were late.”

“I had those tickets printed and sent before Shirley ordered them.”

Lazaro shrugged and smiled. “Maybe she has it in for you.”

Bonwit returned to his office and crossed to the picture window
behind his desk.

He studied the expanse of the Bay Bridge and the inviting waters
below.

 

 

...and at the inviting waters below...
…and at the inviting waters below…

 

 

 

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Love is a Verb – An Easter Story

My conversion to Catholicism required two years of study and
meditation.

I was six months into my study when my mentor (catechist) gave
me a crucifix to take home and hang on a wall.

He asked me to meditate on the crucifix an hour each evening for
a week.

At the end of the week we met.

The Vocations Director from the Conventional Order of St. Francis
joined us.

I was a deeply committed and my mentor felt I had a vocation.

The exercise was a test of my vocation.

My mentor asked what I thought the crucifix meant.

I replied that it symbolized the best of human nature, tortured and
executed by the worst of human nature:

“The crucifix is a symbol of the struggle to transcend the beast, which is not an external force, but a force within each of us. It causes a spiritual death that God wants us to transcend by treating other people with the compassion we would under their circumstances. It’s not as simple as giving to charity. We must ask ourselves how we want other people to treat us if we are hungry, lonely, grieving, or incarcerated. We must love the other as we love ourselves.”

With this answer, and a few written tests, I was accepted as a novitiate into the Conventual Order of St Francis of Assisi.

I planned to enter the friary as a Novitiate upon my baptism to continue the process of discernment.

I’ve never understood the kind of Christian who revises the Gospel to comport with a political point of view.

To me, this is spiritual death.

The reason I didn’t  enter the Order is a topic for a different post.

Wanted Poster by Art Young -
Wanted Poster by Art Young

One does not have to be Christian, or believe in God to grasp the meaning of the story of Christ and learn from it.

The most powerful force in creation chose a lowly birth among the lowliest people in the Roman Empire.

This story of how God chose to incarnate is the central point of the Gospel, the Good News.

The good news is this: God loves all of His Creation regardless of race, creed, religion, sexual orientation, or class; His Creation belongs to His Creation, all of it.

Lethal Medical Neglect
                    Discharged with Walker

“God’s heart has a special place for the poor, so much so that he himself “became poor” (2 Cor 8:9). The entire history of our redemption is marked by the presence of the poor. Salvation came to us from the “yes” uttered by a lowly maiden from a small town on the fringes of a great empire. The Saviour was born in a manger, in the midst of animals, like children of poor families; he was presented at the Temple along with two turtledoves, the offering made by those who could not afford a lamb (cf. Lk 2:24; Lev 5:7); he was raised in a home of ordinary workers and worked with his own hands to earn his bread.” (Evangelii Gaudium, 197)

 

Lethal Medical Neglect
                         Urban Renewal

“In this context we can understand Jesus’ command to his disciples: “You yourselves give them something to eat!” (Mk 6:37): it means working to eliminate the structural causes of poverty and to promote the integral development of the poor, as well as small daily acts of solidarity in meeting the real needs which we encounter. The word “solidarity” is a little worn and at times poorly understood, but it refers to something more than a few sporadic acts of generosity.”  (Evangelii Gaudium, 187)

 

Lethal Neglect
                              Red Soles

Let no one consider themselves to be the “armour” of God while planning and carrying out acts of violence and oppression! May no one use religion as a pretext for actions against human dignity and against the fundamental rights of every man and woman, above all, the right to life and the right of everyone to religious freedom!

Pope Francis Sunday, 21 September 2014

Un Angelo

Love like a signal you call
Touching my body my soul
Bring to me, you to meet me here
Home be the temple of your heart
Home be the body of your love
Just like Holy water to my lips
Hey

Yes I do know how I survive
Yes I do know why I’m alive
To love and be with you
Day by day by day by day

 

 Happy Easter!

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