The Outlets

by Chrissy Larson

When you hear the word "outlet," what do you think of?

For those longing to shop and not be stuck in an enclosed building, the outlets are a great alternative to the indoor mall. If you happen to have extra money, where else would you rather be on a fine Spring day such as the those we have been experiencing lately, but strolling down a sidewalk, gazing in store windows. Every time the door swings open, the smell of retail wafts past your nose and out steps a contented addict with their "fix" in hand. Plastic-type bags never truly fill the void. But when you are handed your newly purchased merchandise in a paper-handled bag, you know you are in the zone. If you score a garment bag, life is very good!

If your addiction is fishing or boating, the word outlet might remind you of the place where you take your boat on any given day. An excuse to go can be conjured up in an instant. Living in what's known as "River City," there is one water inlet/outlet after another. I see folks on the river everyday reeling their addiction, who need no reason for getting out a pole and some bait.

However, most of us envision an electrical plug; the outlet being a place where we can plug something in and get something back. Electricity is one of best commodities ever invented by man! That plastic plate on my wall represents convenience and in just a matter of a seconds, my life becomes easier after I "plug it in."

But an outlet can also be a place or opening through which something is let out. For me, writing is that place. I never would have thought for a million years, that I had anything worth writing, much less any interest to others. This kind of mindset will keep us from doing just about anything. One day I woke up and said to myself, "I don't care if anyone ever reads what I have say, I just need the outlet." This begins my blogging journey.

The first time I heard the word "blog," I wondered if it was a new global warming term. Maybe Al Gore made it up and since I never follow him, I could have missed it. But the Internet (which he supposedly created) was full of them. At first, I was overwhelmed by information but after a little investigating, I found help. I decided if I was really going to do this (even if just for myself,) I wanted to do it right.

Last summer, I took several online classes, one of which was a Blog Writing Course (very reasonably priced) that literally walked me through the process, step by step. By the time I finished, I not only had the knowledge to set up my own blog site, I had a new confidence to express myself on the world wide web. I HIGHLY recommend it to anyone who is or has entertained the idea.

Blogging is one of my outlets . . . an opening through which I can let it all out. This freedom of speech allows me to bellyache and moan from the depths of my soul. But better than that, I have the liberty to scream from the top of my lungs that Jesus is King and His return is imminent.

What is your outlet and why does it work?

HOW DO YOU FEEL ABOUT HOMEWORK?

Some of my readers have known me for as long as I have been on this earth, maybe even changed my diapers.

But some of you are my newest friends.

The beauty of the blog is that we have found interesting things out about each other in a modern, techno kind of way.

Did you know I am a songwriter? I have several recordings as well, but that's another subject.

My goal this week is to bring the lyricist out in you and ask you to pen a song about your feelings for, of all things, homework. For help with rhyming words, check out www.rhymezone.com. If you need inspiration, sit outside one night this week under the harvest moon. Get out your guitar or harmonica for musical support and opine away. Who knows, the neighborhood hound dogs may even join in!

Here goes . . .

(Folksy, country flavor)

Ode to the Essay
by Chrissy Larson

Verse 1:
It was thirty two years ago I did my time,
In a High School that's so far away;
There was Algebra, Spanish and Chemistry too;
English Comp and the five part ess-ay.

Verse 2:
Now I needed my credits to walk on that stage,
Hear my name, throw my cap to the sky;
But with essays to write and exams yet to pass,
I couldn't just turn a blind eye.

verse 3:
Through many long weekends and more sleepless nights,
Than I really do care to admit;
I finally tackled what I had feared most,
My efforts paid off, every bit.

Verse 4:
I had intros, conclusions, three mains and a thesis,
The only thing left was my clincher;
Oh no . . . not a brain freeze! I'm 'bout out of time -
I'm ready to end this adventure!

Verse 5:
I finally finished those essays and more,
I "walked" and I did not look back;
But who would have guessed that I needed those skills,
To coach you and keep you on track.

Chorus:
I'm so glad it's your essay, not mine;
Watching movies is really just fine.
To Staples again,
I need a red pen;
I'm so glad it's your essay, not mine
(twice through because it's just that good)

Cyber Psalmist
P.s. I will accept nothing less than a poem!

Question of the Week

If you could design a billboard,

what would it say?

You are a voice to a generation.

Billboards are an amazing advertising tool. Because we have a business of our own, I have checked into billboard advertising as well as considered various locations around the city that would be beneficial to us. Location is everything. It must be catchy or else colorful enough to capture the readers attention. We read them at stop lights or glance at them as we fly down the expressway. Some are humorous and others annoy us. I've even seen a billboard with a proposal on it. I'm not sure I find that romantic. Everywhere you go (unless there are restrictions) you see billboards.

Have you ever thought of your life as a billboard? At least for the moment. How I act and who I am speaks volumes about me. My "being" is just as important as my "doing."

I am a voice to a generation and I do have something to say. I've learned from those before me and want to make a difference for those behind. My heart cries out to expose what's real because real reality has somehow fallen through the cracks.

So, what could I possibly say to a generation viewing my billboard?

Jesus wants to know
if you'll play
"Hide & Seek?"

Guess what-- you're it!

Seek the LORD
while He may be found,
Call upon Him
while He is near.
Isaiah 55:6

Cyber Psalmist

Ugly Is Just a Flavor

My son was doing a little summer grammar lesson and asked me if the word "ugly" was an adjective or a proper noun, as in the book title, "The Ugly Duckling". I had to think for a minute. In most cases, "ugly" is an adjective, according to the dictionary. But I guess that really depends on how it is being used, or should I say,
what flavor you want.

Kids can be cruel. Adults too, but contrary to the sticks and stones rhyme, names do hurt. Being called "ugly" cuts deep to the soul. Calling someone that adjective leaves a bitter taste in the mouth of the slanderer, which is almost impossible to wash out. An apology is the only true remedy.

In the South, having a bad attitude is called being "ugly". It's been used to describe my disposition a time or two. Whether I'm annoyingly disagreeable or in an extremely sour mood, "ugly" usually leads to solitude. No one seems to want my company. The function here would be an adverb.

I was introduced to a sweet treat at the local donut shop which appeared deformed but tasted delicious. My guess, these huge fritters are made from a variety of donut scraps as well as apples and leftover raisins. First fried, then glazed with frosting, they are large enough for sharing. The "Ugly" has turned out to be one of my favorites, along with a cup of Joe. Herein, a proper noun, although not in the dictionary.

We live in a world where language keeps evolving. A negative word can have a positive meaning. For example, when your girlfriend sees your new pink highlights and comments you look "bad", she really means it looks fabulous. The flavor of words continue to change.

In the classic story by Hans Christian Anderson, the duckling faces an identity crisis. His differences seem overwhelming and he exists in the shadow of his own label. Eventually, he moves past the boundaries of the adjective and comes to the same realization: bitter, sour or sweet - ugly is just a flavor.