Lessons from my life

Cropped from a Photo by  phil thep  on  Unsplash and Losing Faith First, let me warn you, this is a story that contains violence and a reference to abuse. Back in the mid seventies, when I was in the sixth grade, I was transferred to a small private school out in the middle of Nowhere, USA, that was affiliated with a major religious program that aired nation wide on television. This town was so small, that you had to go outside to change your mind, and that's probably why you couldn't get them to see a different point of view. I was transferred there to avoid the bullies. The problem wasn't that the bullies were picking on me, the problem was I had a temper and I stood up to the bullies with my fist. I was constantly in fights in the public school, because I was the new kid in town, that never said much, and they thought I was an easy target. At first we fought because I wouldn't back down and I stood up to my bullies, but then it became a matter of them want

Photo by  Alasdair Elmes  on  Unsplash He once played guitar for Tex Ritter. Ever since he was a child, my dad played guitar. He told me the stories of how his family didn't have a TV, and of how they would entertain the neighborhood by sitting on the front porch, playing and singing music well into the night. This tradition would carry on for years. Whenever his family would gather together, they would breakout the guitars and play all night long (this was a large family. He was the youngest boy in a family with seven children, and most everyone could either play an instrument or sing.) He taught me how to play bass, so I would join along with them. My favorite part was when we would start playing old swing music like Don't Sit Under the Apple Tree and the songs from the fifties like Johnny B Good. When my dad was still in high school (or just left high school), he played with Tex Ritter at one of his concerts. That was before my time, but I do remember him playing his

View from my apartment in Germany When I was stationed in Germany (thirty years ago), my wife and children and I, lived in a cozy two bedroom apartment above a cute little gift store, on the third floor. The picture on the side here was the actual view from one of our windows (although the picture hasn't fared well over the years and has some damage). We lived right in the middle of all the hustle and bustle of town. There were every kind of store that we could ever want. There was a liquor store, and ice cream  parlor, a clothing store, bars, restaurants, and even a grocery store all within a block of were we lived. We were on the town square after all. On the weekends we would go to the ice cream parlor, but not the one near our house, but the one that was about six or eight blocks from us because one, we liked the atmosphere better (even though it was owned by the same family), and two, it was located near a pizza place and a wonderful steak house that served the best steaks

Photo by  Philipp M.  on  Unsplash My Wife's Musical Debut. As I stated before, my parents and I were a Gospel band that traveled to different churches (didn't matter what denomination), fairs and special events. When my wife and I had only been dating for about two weeks or so, I invited her to come along to one of those special events. It was a dedication ceremony for a brand new park in a nearby city. there were hundreds if not a thousand people there in attendance. Now this was the first time that she was going to ever see me perform, outside of church, and I was thrilled that my girlfriend was going to be backstage to cheer me on. After we had unloaded and set up the equipment, my dad made a unexpected discovery. We forgot the mic stands! What were we going to do? We couldn't drive back and get them. It was too far and the show was suppose to start soon. There was no way my dad could sing and play guitar without a mic stand, or was there. As any dad has done s

Photo by  Arthur Miranda  on  Unsplash My Mom Had a Beautiful Voice. Some of my earliest memories are of my mom singing. When I was 4, I remember her and my dad traveling from church to church to perform. They were invited to sing at all different locations, traveling for hours. At numerous places, many faces watched my parents on the stage. When my dad was a preacher at a small country church, they would take center stage every week with their singing. My mom had even gotten the lead roll in an Easter play at a different church and people would come from miles around to watch her perform. (I had thought that my mom studied theater when she went to college because she was always in the drama club pictures, but it turned out that she was studying to be a teacher). For several years they would sing at that little country church, that was until my parents decided that it was time to take the show on the road and become evangelical singers. Once again they would travel from church t