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Sunday, May 22, 2011


I waited yesterday, May 21, 2011 for the promised rapture. I sat comfortably waiting in my easy chair chomping on popcorn and guzzling diet Mtn Dew like there was no tomorrow. Of course technically there was not going to be a tomorrow. Imagine my surprise when midnight came around. I had not been rapt, then I remembered only the good would benefit from rapture. Obviously my lifestyle precludes any kind of rapture.

I checked with FaceBook, Twitter, Skype, and a few bingo sites I hangout in. Not one person ended up benefitting from rapture. The masses still wrote their status’, tweets flowed, and I still lost my butt in bingo.
What went wrong? Where was my rapture? It dawned on me that maybe my rapture had been postponed, to be rapt at a later date. I did what any disappointed red-blooded American would do. I googled “THE END OF THE WORLD”. Imagine my shock when I read that I have survived 119 predicted ENDS OF THE WORLD, and I am only 62.
Here are a few of what I will refer to close brushes with death.

In 1953 a book came out predicting that the world would end in August of 1953. I was only five at the time, so I didn’t pay attention.

A pastor from California predicted that sometime between April 16 and 23, 1957 that Armageddon would sweep the world! Millions of people would parish. I was nine at the time, and didn’t keep up on current events, but I am sure my parents would have told me if there had been any wide spread perishing.

In the 1970’s a religious fanatic predicted Haley’s comet would end life as we know it. At about the same time a group called The True Light Church of Christ forecasted the return of Jesus Christ. Many from the Church quit their jobs and waited for the blessed event. I suppose they were upset to learn that they couldn’t get unemployment. Waiting for the return of the Messiah is not a sufficient enough excuse for quitting your job.

1981 could be renamed the year of rapture. There were two predicted dates for rapture. One predicted that the rapture would occur on December 31. The prediction was a concoction of Christian prophesies astronomy, and a whole lot of fatalism. A church of fanatics, goof-balls and most likely aliens predicted rapture would take place on June 28, when June 28 passed they sent a news release they had miscalculated, the new date was August 7, both were wrong. I was a newlywed in 1981, the marriage was bad from the start, I would have welcomed any kind of world ending scenario.

The planets aligned in 1982, creating magnetic forces and Armageddon.
Also in 1982 a group called the Tara Center took out a full-page ad claiming that Christ second coming was scheduled for the April 24-25 weekend. At that time I only read the sports-page. Either I missed it, or it didn’t happen.

Need I go on? The results are easily googleable. It is likely that there will be many predicted raptures between now and the real end of the world, December 21, 2012.
Until then live your life like there is no tomorrow, who knows how many close calls we can endure.

Friday, May 20, 2011

May 20

It's been over a month since I posted, thought I would add a little ditty I wrote for my parents. Growing up I seldom saw them do anything but argue.

I have finished my "sell my soul to the devil book" I am considering adding my book "THE LAST CHANCE" to kindle. Bypassing publication all together. I have started another round of queries for my middle grade fantasy.

I am fighting myself, part of me wants to stop writing books that will never see the light of day. I am told all my books are great, too bad the right agent does not share the views of my handful of fans.

Small House
It’s a small house, we both know it.
There isn't much room for us to be.
Maybe that’s why you’re not home much.
Or could that lonely reason just be me?
I give you everything, but seldom
get anything in return.
What can I do?
Or is it that fire will never again burn?
Yes, it’s a small house, but it seems
to be filled up with tears.
It’s a small house, but there’s more than enough room for
us to be lonely through our years.