Ass: (n) a foolish or stupid persondictionary with letter A

  • I have been foolish in my life. It did not make me an ass.
  • I have been stupid–many times. Once again, not an ass.

I would have to disagree that merely making mistakes or lacking the memory to recall how to avoid them classifies any human being as an ass.

What makes us into asses is the desire to make ourselves look good, even when we are foolish and stupid.

Arrogance is what “assifies” the human being.

Quickly admitting foolishness is beneficial. Being willing to attest to your stupidity can be downright endearing.

But insisting that your particular rendition of the truth–which has proven to be riddled with falseness–is still viable and worthy of consideration, is what places you in the position of being an ass–and needing to be kicked there.

Now there is another word, which is “asshole.”

If you will allow me to put forth my personal interpretation of that word, it would be as follows:

Since an ass is an individual who becomes prideful over his or her foolishness or stupidity, an asshole is someone who decides to preach and teach their arrogance…to others.

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dictionary with letter A

Armchair: 1. (n) a comfortable chair, typically upholstered, with side supports for a person’s arms. 2. (adj) lacking or not involving practical or direct experience of a particular subject or activity.

There should never be more pundits than participants.

There. I have established a new rule.

Like most rules, it will be ignored in favor of some sort of haphazard pursuit of unbridled freedom.

Yet we have too many people with too many opinions who have too little talent to participate in the matters that are too important.

Last night as I watched the National Championship for college football, I was astounded at how many different people they had conglomerated to voice their opinions on the activities of these barely post-adolescent young men, who have been pushed to the forefront as superior athletes.

Some of these “armchair quarterbacks,” as we often call them, are actually former players. But they all seem to forget a very important fact. Even though I didn’t play football very long, I will tell you something which is never brought up by those in armchairs, be it about sports, politics or life in general:

It happens too fast.

If you expect your training or your brain to be able to come up with some magnificent way to handle the task in front of you, you will be confounded, stumble and make mistakes.

Just as a politician who wants to seek counsel with many people before making a decision always ends up piping in a little too late, any football player who believes he will have time in the middle of the game to access the resources of his brain and come up with the perfect solution for the situation, is going to end up looking foolish and inept.

Life really works with the conjoining of two magnificently unpredictable units: instinct and luck.

And the only way to be successful is to put yourself into enough uncomfortable situations that your instincts begin to turn you in the right direction, and then realize that the choices you make will still require some luck in order to be fruitful.

I got tickled after the game last night when they asked a player what he was thinking “right before he threw that pass.”

The young man crinkled his brow as if he didn’t understand the question, but politely replied, “Well, it was just a play and I played it through.”


America sometimes seems obsessed with the notion that we can educate ourselves into a better world.

Pundits love to discuss, from their armchairs of comfort, how somebody should have done something completely different in a given situation. But the best we can really do in life is to stop being afraid of difficulty.

For it grants us the instinct to know what to do at the right moment, and then step back…and pray we get lucky.

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dictionary with letter A








There seems to be a national sense of neurotic.

Now, what is the difference between being neurotic and psychotic?









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Amiable: (adj) having or displaying a friendly and pleasant manner

My traveling partner and I discuss this all the time.

We’re constantly meeting new people, interacting with service organizations and the general public, creating a face-to-face opportunity and challenge daily.

There is one thing for certain: waiting to decide how you’re going to treat other human beings based upon either your fatigue level or your mood is not only foolish, but dangerous.

I will honestly impart to you that having a profile which you pursue faithfully and remaining “married” to it, as it were, through the good times and bad, and in sickness and health, is not only admirable, but also the only way you can survive the constant flux of society shifting its thinking based on whether we’re going to destroy one another or just manipulate one another.


We have come up with a very simple proposal or formula, if you will:

1. Always know what you want. Perhaps the most annoying thing to other human beings is asking them to guess your needs. There is a danger they will misunderstand your goals.

2. Decide what you can live with. We don’t often get exactly what we want. Even though some people think it’s a sin of conscience to have a fall-back position, I contend that when you deal with other humans, to be absent a “Plan B” is to welcome disappointment and strife.

3. Choose a face. You’re not allowed to have two. In our case, it’s a combination of warmth and professionalism. In other words, “I am so glad to meet you, but I’m fully aware of why I’m here and what my job is.”

4. And finally, don’t try to save the world. I have heard that we already have a Savior, and dying on the cross is no longer an expression of love, just over-zealous stupidity.

After all, if Nature, God, parents, employers, employees and the IRS have not changed the person standing in front of you, your best shot will probably fall short also.

Once people let you know that they are not going to be pliable, stop twisting them.

There you go.

Those four things allow Janet and myself to be amiable.

I refuse to do this journey any other way. I just pass it along to you because the advice you will get from others will be some sort of mish-mash of kick-ass or kiss-ass.

Obviously, they both put you in the wrong neighborhood.





Words from Dic(tionary)

dictionary with letter A

Akron: (n) a city in northeastern Ohio; population 217,074. Noted as a center for the rubber industry, the first rubber factory was established there in 1870 by B. F. Goodrich.

It was a process called “vulcanization,” which had absolutely nothing to do with Mr. Spock or mind melding. I know very little about it–except that tires for cars are the blessed by-product.

But for me, Akron has a very different association.

On a Tuesday night, I drove the 116 miles from my home to a little coffeehouse in Akron called The Avalon. I was young, foolish, energetic and very viable, which was cancelled out by my penchant for stupid decisions.

I had just started a music group and we were looking for anywhere to perform, where people would listen for a few moments and hopefully praise us for our efforts instead of giving us the benefit of needful critique.

The Avalon coffeehouse agreed to let us come and sing a couple of songs, so we were ecstatic. I knew nothing about this venue. As it turned out, it was one of those spiritual youth hostels, where people under the age of thirty gathered to teeter in an existence in spirituality would not totally disrupt their carnal pursuits.

On the other hand, my little group consisted of small-town-America high school graduates who had all the travel sensibilities of Christopher Columbus heading for the West Indies but settling for the Caribbean.

So the first thing we did was dress up for the occasion. All I owned was a fancy dress coat with a shirt and tie. The two girls traveling with me had their prom dresses from the previous year, and felt they shouldn’t go to waste, so why not wear them to the Avalon?We also traveled with a young hobbit-looking oboe player, who wore glasses which resembled goggles from a steel mill.

So you can imagine the surprise of the young hippies at The Avalon, dressed in blue jeans and hemp blouses and shirts, with bare feet, when the prom king and his two queens showed up.

Even though there was a pending snicker in the air, to their credit, the patrons set aside their bigotry and gave an ear to “Goober and the two Gooberettes.”

We sang a song called Jesus Generation,” which was about the corniest thing I’ve ever written, and a rendition of the Beatitudes calledBlessed,” which had a prelude played on the oboe suitable for chamber orchestras in the Mozart era.

We survived.

Matter of fact, there was a level of appreciation–perhaps mainly for our courage in showing up–which warmed my heart.

And to top the evening off, for the first time in my life, the hat was passed and we left that small gathering with $33.25, believing we were successful prospectors from Sutter’s Mill.

I don’t know what they said about us after we left. It doesn’t matter. But for one night, cultures clashed without the need for violence, ridicule or debate.

It is how I will always remember Akron.

It is the blessing I received at The Avalon.



Words from Dic(tionary)

dictionary with letter A

Aesop: (6th century BC) The moral animal fables associated with Aesop were probably collected from many sources and initially communicated orally.

Rabbits don’t race with turtles. Forcing a story where one does may be a vehicle for producing a moral, but it certainly does not make for a very good fable.

I never liked the story of the tortoise and the hare. After all, what respectable bunny would think it was funny to go after his shell-shocked neighbor? What do you have to prove? Come on, Aesop.

Let’s say that the rabbit wins (which is what would ACTUALLY happen). So he goes back to his den–or hole, or wherever rabbits hang out–pours himself a nice carrot juice, leans back in his easy chair and says, “Guess what I did today, buddies? I out-raced a turtle. Beat that little fella to a pulp! Wasn’t even close.”

You see? There’s just no motivation for it.

Likewise, the story viewed from the other side, as the tortoise returns to his brethren:

Q: So what’d you do today, Pete?

A: Uh … I challenged a rabbit to a race.

Q: You what? What are you? Crazy?

So you see, the rabbit would appear to be extraordinarily foolish, and the turtle would look like somebody flipped him on his back and he couldn’t right his wrong.

I think stories that have morals should also have some realism and plot–and the tortoise and the hare just would never have happened.

And by the way, the moral of the story–that “good things go to he who waits” and “slow and steady wins the race”–is pretty much crap, too. Most of the time, we have to find a way to do things fast AND efficient.

I know Aesop meant well, but you can’t write a fable trying to encourage those who are slower, instead of challenging them to speed up a little bit … and get a “hare” advantage.