Ahhhh… Old songs and old singers that still have that spark of greatness. I fell in love with this song by Aretha Franklin and Tony Bennett when I first heard it. The soulful sound of Aretha and the vocal smoothness of Bennett makes this one amazing song. And keep your eye on Bennett's face just before the song ends ...
Fear is one of those emotions men never admit to having, yet they have it all the same from degrees of mild to total immobilization. I'm probably just a smidgen below the high side of total petrification.
P.T. Barnum. Freaks. Circus. Rich. Poor. Prejudice. Dreams. Happiness. Commitment. The Greatest Showman seems to have a little bit of everything. But most of all it has music -- at times tender, at times powerful. It may not be historically accurate - after all it IS a musical - but it is a good story and it's a good time at the movies. Some hated the movie. I thought it was well done.
"This Is Me" is features Barnum's collection of special people. They attempt to enter a room full of high society snobs during the reception of Barnum's newest "show" - the European opera singer, Jenny Lind. But he prevents them from entering on the pretense they have a show they must get ready for, attempting to cover his embarrassment of their presence during his finest entertainment moment. So he sends away the ones who gained for him his new found success; you can almost taste the disappointment. Societal station trumps friendship - and the angry entertainers leave the theater and march back to their circus proclaiming loudly and proudly that they are not ashamed of who they are.
Sometimes it's difficult finding anything that's worthwhile on TV - when basketball isn't on.
So I switched over to Netflix and looked for something entertaining. After a couple of misses, I clicked on a movie called Lion - and found myself thinking about things like "love" and "being lost" and "finding home".
People going through grief saying they think no one knows what they're going through.
It's not that I think people shouldn't grieve. They most certainly should, and do. But why assume that the condition of grief is constant? Why think that things will never change? When grief is fresh, it's the same as having an ever-present paper cut or a bruise that doesn't seem to heal.
The holidays are hard. So many emotions. So many memories. Each year they all come flooding back...and for those who find themselves alone at Christmas it becomes particularly difficult.
I miss my Mom. I miss my Dad. I miss the friends that are no more - whether it be my fault or theirs. Some nights I sit and watch the lights on my little Christmas tree, and pray to my Savior and ask Him to help me to remember, to reflect, and to rejoice knowing that no matter what has happened or will happen, He's ever with me.
I pray the Lord will inspire you to grow closer to Him this Christmas season, and help you hold on to Him today, tomorrow, and always.
I stumbled onto some old - like 1950's old - films that depict life in that era.
Maybe just a little early for me, but it still gives a good idea of life in the day when family values were radically different than they are today.
For much of my childhood, thanksgiving meant butchering time at my grandparents' house. It was only as I got older, and my grandparents decided they would no longer raise pigs and mess with butchering that Mom would go all out on thanksgiving... I miss those days.
When my mother passed away in 1996, I felt like I had come to the end of the road. So much of my days up until then had been focused on making sure she was OK.
She was there one day - and gone the next.
For many weeks I could not enter her bedroom without being overcome with emotion.
Two decades later, I still find myself thinking of her and remembering her. When I heard this song by Josh Groban many years ago, it helped me to grieve and to remind me of how precious she was -- and still is -- to me.
A synopsis of the book was featured on a website I visit each week. I love reading children's books like this, but this is the first one that put a lump in my throat - and I will probably never get a chance to read the actual book.
Big Wolf, Little Wolf tells the tale of a lonely wolf who realized just how lonely he is when he encounters the little wolf who visits him.
It is funny how people come into our lives that at first we resent, then we enjoy, then we miss when they disappear. This fable captures those feelings so wonderfully.
I read the book, then I saw the movie. Both are good, but the movie seemed to deepen the emotions of the book. The movie was on TV today. I took the time to watch it again.
Young adults dealing with cancer, and death, and love... It's not an easy thing to read or to watch, but Green's book and the movie based on the movie help -- and I admit to a lump in my throat, and fighting back a tear or twenty with both versions.
Here's a visual compilation of Hazel's eulogy of Augustus.
One of the most frustrating propositions: "If you could have one wish, what would it be?"
It immediately brings back those weeks ahead of Christmas when the Sears and Montgomery Ward holiday catalogs would be delivered, and my sister and I would dog-ear the pages and circle images of toys we wanted for Christmas.
And yet we knew that out of the dozen or so things we marked we were only allowed to have one.
This story dropped into my Facebook newsfeed the other day. It's one of those universal tales that anyone who has cared for (a.k.a. "loved") a pet will recognize. CAUTION: Grab a few tissues; you might need them while you read this one.
Almost twelve years ago, I saw a flyer in a grocery store advertising a dog available for adoption. She was a year and half old, 35 pounds, and spayed after already birthing a litter. My wife and I met her a week after that. She was goofy and sweet, friendly to people, but couldn't stay with the multi-dog family who'd taken her off the streets. Any female canine within visual range was on her "kill" list. That's part of being born as a street dog. I brought her home in the passenger seat of my 2000 Chevy S-10 about two weeks later.
It continues. Several weeks ago one of Carter Lumber's delivery trucks ignored the posted signs of "No Parking". I tried letting the truck driver know, but he ignored my shouts and horn toots to try and rouse him from his truck's cabin. I tried calling the local police, but the officer informed me that unless they were blocking traffic or parked on my own land, there really was nothing they could do.