“But there never seems to be enough time, to do the things you want to do, once you find them,” sang Jim Croce in Time in a Bottle.
I’m not sure what derailed my writing. I definitely have too many projects and not enough time. My wife occasionally calls me “Crazy Old Maurice” (absent-minded inventor from Beauty and the Beast) probably because I’m so scatter-brained and I’m constantly mumbling or humming to myself while frequently losing my glasses, tools, bicycle and so on. One time I even lost my car for a week.
But anyhow, as I get back on the blog track, I want to thank the people who have encouraged me to continue my writing. It means the world to me.
Although I haven’t been posting much, I have been researching and preparing for future blog-related activities. I even purchased some video-editing software and a used camera to enable me to add what I hope will be entertaining and enlightening video clips.
Speaking of cameras, I marvel at how much they’ve changed since I was a contributing photographer for the Washington Times back in the 1980s. Admittedly, I had to run back home and grab my old camera to take photos at Wheatland’s annual Christmas Tree Lighting because I couldn’t figure out how to turn on my new camera’s flash. (In my defense, the reason the young man gave for selling me his camera was, “It’s too complicated”.)
Another project I’ve been working on is a new website that will be taking a satirical and humorous look at the people and groups who support “deprogramming”. I’ve already written several blog posts on this topic and staged a couple of protests against TED Talks for their promotion of faith breaking. People have asked me why I bother, and I have often asked myself the same question.
Admittedly, it’s easy to get discouraged in my David-versus-Goliath confrontation with a popular and well-funded a group like TED. However, whenever I feel like giving up, I turn to such inspirational books as Let our Children Go in which retired deprogrammer, Ted Patrick, claims that Unification Church members practice sinister things like on-the-spot hypnosis; or to Diane (“I didn’t know I was with the Moonies”) Benscoter’s “Poor Me” memoir In the Shoes of a Servant where she outlandishly says we believe in talking snakes, Reverend Moon is God and his children are perfect. Such distortions of our beliefs, and who we are, really get my blood boiling. If I don’t do something to expose these libels, who will?
Recently, I took a short drive into the countryside in search of a photo I could use as the background image for my new website. The scene I found of the sun beaming behind magnificent cloud formations while Canadian geese gathered by a rice field nearly took my breath away. Maybe God was trying to tell me something.
As 2015 comes to an end, I sincerely hope that at this time next year we can look back and know that our hearts have grown and we have come to love and appreciate those who are different from ourselves. As a wise woman from the East once said:
“As we stand before God, we are not evaluated by our title or the name of our religion, but by the quality of our hearts.” Hak Ja Han Moon.
In closing, I would like to especially thank my wife for her editing, drawing and continued support. Speaking of her, where is she anyway? Oh no! She’s still down at that rice field. I forgot she got out of the car to go pick some flowers and I must’ve driven off without her. Boy, am I in trouble!