Fill in the oval entirely

This municipal and school board election (Leavenworth, Kansas, April 2015), will be the most complicated April election I've dealt with since '05.

In '07, it was easy.  Vote for my friend for mayor, who would end up winning by three votes, put me on the council, and regret ever putting his own name on the ballot.  Small town politics were not friendly to him.

In '09, it was easy.  Vote for my friend for mayor, and vote for me for City Council.  Finished 5th in a two man race, but since five spots were open, I was on the Council.

In '11, it was easy.  Vote for my friend for mayor, and vote for me for City Council.  Finished 6th in a four man race, and since five spots were open, I was off the Council.

In '13, it was easy.  Vote for my other friend for mayor (the first friend would've declined, even if he'd been written in), and vote for me for City Council and School Board.  Even did a reddit **AMA**

Finished in distant fourth place for three seats on the school board, and a three way tie for fourth for City Council. Lost a tiebreaker draw.
This election, I know nobody on the ballot. So I'm actually voting in the character and the issues.

Wish me luck.

City Commission: six candidates for three seats.
School Board: five candidates for four seats.

Random blurb Saturday

With my change to day shift, my blogging will change. My afternoons are no longer spent alone or sleeping for the night; my nights are no longer alone or awake; my days are now being traded in the common barter of employment.

However, I hope to continue leaving my thoughts in this mostly forgotten corner of the internet.

Father of two teenagers? I'm getting old.

A petition supporting a bill that already has the governor's support and 5/8 of the upper house...seems to be a waste of ink.

The only question left is whether Thoreau's quiet desperation is still a common phenomenon or not.

The problem with the world is that everyone is convinced that they have THE TRUTH. The ignored set of facts or principles, or the particular way to read divine inspiration, that make everything make sense, and that the world would benefit from understanding. And they think every dissenting truth is bullshit, deception, and ignorance.

End times thoughts ...

If we have been in "the end times since Christ's ascension, does that necessarily mean that Revelation chapters 4-19 are irrelevant to all but the last generation of Christians? Or was John given vision(s) applicable to Christian life in the church age sharing a planet with the world systems that run on pride, greed, and lust, looking to corrupt or conquer the church...

I believe Christ will return. I just think that certain "this means end is near" predictions lack a sense of history and global perspective.

But I also don't spend enough time in global newspapers or in fasting and prayer to even dream of saying that I'm sure I'm right. Or that I'm sure that anyone is wrong. 

Just the thoughts of a Christian who has read too many conflicting interpretations of Revelation and Daniel

Filters and brewers

Filters, but not the ones that keep me quiet.
Brewers, but not the one named David.

Coffee.  The lifeblood of America.  The reason I have to figure out whether you mean 5 fl oz or 8 fl oz when you say "cup."  The favorite method of self-administration of caffeine.  (And Sporting fans should probably boycott Red Bull after New York Red Bull beat SKC in the playoffs this year.)

I tolerate the drink.  I don't like it.  (Sorry, Michael.)

There are those who swear by it, whether in the carafe, or with the green mermaid on the cup, or the place with the lighthouses.  Me, not so much.  It's bitter, I have trouble finding the right mix of creamer and sugar, and the coffeepot dribbles off the front of the lip.  Augh!

And, people have been arguing about coffee temperatures for at least 20 years (Liebeck vs Mc'D's, anyone?).

So, my current method of drinking coffee involves pouring it from the carafe (or whatever you call the pump-operated thermos...thing), filling my cup half full, then topping it off with cold water.  Repeat for total of 2 to 3 styro-cups (or 1 mug, stating "This IS my brilliant career!") for maximum effect.

I like my coffee like I like my boxing opponents: weak and near room temperature.

--Steven Wm. Pratt

Reduction

I want to say a lot more than I do say.  (I say that a lot.)

But, I start by thinking about everything I want to say.
Then I think about who *might* read it.  (If I thought about who actually does read it, I'd probably go unfiltered.)
Then I adjust.  I self-censor.  I condense, reduce.  I say less, I hint at less, and I cut entire paragraphs.

And, by the time I'm done, it's a few short paragraphs with dangling thoughts.  Things left unsaid.

Maybe it's a toothpaste thing.  (Easily said, impossible to unsay.)

God be merciful...

And so I was going to write a post about some conversations.  Conversations in which my choices, my morals were discussed, contrasted with other people I know.   And I'd say that, by the grace of God and the good guidance of my mother, I was taught certain things.

And I was wondering how to phrase it without insulting my ... neighbors.

But, then I thought about how it would sound, and although I didn't know the reference (Luke 18), I knew what it would sound like - the parable of the Pharisee and the tax collector.  It would sound like, "God, I thank You that I am not like other men", the opening line of the Pharisee's prayer.

But, I remembered how the parable ended, saying that the other man went home justified.

And so, with a dose of humility, I bite my tongue, try to remember that pride is the most dangerous and most insidious of all, and say,

"God, be merciful to me a sinner!"

Irrelevant

I'm getting angrier.  Frustrations mount in every direction.  And I'm so far down on the totem pole that I can't change a thing.  Just get my job done.  Just do as I'm told, with whatever tools I'm assigned.

I've reached a point where my smarts and my skills and my opinions don't matter a damn.  No one cares.  I'm tired of multiplying numbers as a parlor trick, except I can't tell him no.  I'm tired of looking over job descriptions and thinking, "I'd rather be shopping."  (And I hate shopping with every fiber of my being.)  I'm tired of being told to shut off my brain.  I'm tired of having every idea I suggest get shot down.  Rock Port.  Madison.  Bentonville.  The other one.

I'm tired of having so much to say, but by the time my filters kick in, it's "go sports team", "happy birthday", or "cute baby."  If you ever see me uncensored, you'll say like the friend on Mitchell, "quiet Steven wrote that?"

I'm tired of being so cynical.  I can poke a thousand holes, but I'd rather be building an ironclad boat.  If I ever had time.

I'm tired of fighting the bottom line.  There's a few tech luxuries I'd like.  A second vehicle would make my life easier.