My Love For You by Timothy Gerald Franklin Lawrence

My love for You
is bigger
than a shoe
The End

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _


Look after yourself...without health
you are of no use to anyone.

If I owned this company,
would I hire someone like me?


THREE Angels!

THREE Angels!
Angela, Ash & Janelle

Ab's ( REALLY GOOD) Joke of the WEEK!

A great example of Flawless Male logic
This is a conversation between a husband and his wife. Please note that she asks five or six questions which he answered quite simply; but, then she is speechless after answering only one question.

Woman: Do you drink beer?
Man: Yes.

Woman: How many beers a day?
Man: Usually about three.

Woman: How much do you pay per beer?
Man: $5.00 which includes a tip (this is where it gets scary!).

Woman: And how long have you been drinking?
Man: About 20 years, I suppose.

Woman: So a beer costs $5 and you have three beers a day which puts your spending each month at $450. In one year, that would be approximately $5400, correct?
Man: Sounds Correct.

Woman: If in 1 year you spend $5400, not accounting for inflation, over the past 20 years puts your spending at about $108,000, correct?
Man: Again, sounds about right.

Woman: Do you know that if you didn’t drink so much beer, that money could have been put in a step-up interest savings account and after accounting for compound interest for the past 20 years, you could have now bought an airplane?
Man: Could be true. Do you drink beer?

Woman: No.
Man: Where is your airplane?

for Kenneth Mayo

Hope AND SWIM !

When I fall into an ocean, I know with certainty


That I am wet and startled will at once be plain to me


But will I sink or will I swim...to the depths or to the shore?


Perhaps a log will come drifting by, or a boat out on a tour?


I could hope as I was sinking, but I’d still drop to the floor


And hoping would I be, for logs and tour boats evermore


So I think I’ll set my sights on land and give my legs a kick


And stroke though I am weary, my decision will I stick


While Hope sustains the helpless whose outlook is often dim


Hope also fuels the Faithful, giving Strength to those who swim


So even if I falter against this fearsome tide of health


The shores of my fulfillment rise beneath me in my stealth


I’m hopeful for the strength and the courage not to give in


I thank the Lord for Faith and my resolve to hope AND swim!


My prayers and God’s Blessings be with you my friend!

Timothy Lawrence

Abraham Stainer Esq.

Abraham Stainer Esq.
a.k.a. "Ab"

Tinker-Timmy & Friends

Tinker-Timmy & Friends
Jan'l. Angeela, Ash and Ab

Monday, September 28, 2009

Dumdy Doo #55


Morning Friend,
I offer up to your contemplative mind today, the words of the immortal Roy Orbison...
"...only the lonely, dum dum dum dumdy-doo-wah..."
While many associate Roy's fame with his trademark Wayfarer shades and his warbling falsetto, it is deep and insightful lyrics such as these which stand him in my good stead.
Being the hopeless romantic that I am, and considering the self-imposed "relationship hiatus" I've been on for the past few years, I am especially sensitive to such deep emotional tugs.
Of course someone with less tightly wound heartstrings might be less inclined to be so moved, but even one with a "hardened heart" is not "heart-LESS" and therefore not completely immune to Roy's magical refrain.
I ask the question, (less succinctly perhaps than Roy's "dum dum dum"), "who is not human, that has not felt the dark pang of loneliness?"
Where a single "dum" would have been sufficient, notice Roy adds a second for emphasis and ultimately a tri-fecta of "dums" symbolizing a TRIANGLE, of loss, pain and emptiness; the lonely trio inherent to our human condition.
In those "dums" I hear the echoing cries of newborn baby lonely for a mother he barely knows, and the aching sobs of a widower longing for wife who'd become all he knew.
And like the painful reminder of a nasty wound, I hear all too well my own anguished cries of spiritual loneliness when my world had become a tragic triangle of dums. ( or in retrospect "dumbs"?)
"Only the lonely", intones Roy, whether through unforeseen circumstance or self-imposed, self-destructive antipathy, can truly know the insidious and relentlessly heart-wrenching nature of spriritual and emotional solitude.
Now before you suggest I'm reading quite a bit into a few "dums" which some might attribute as mere syncopatic syllables inherent to much of that era's music such as "doo-wops" and "sha-la-la-la, la-la-la, la-la-la-la-la-la", allow me to clarify by including what I believe belongs in any discussion on such a broadly applicable topic as human suffering.
And that would be Hope.
Or as Roy so beautifully puts it, "...dumdy-do-wah".
I ask you, ( as Roy does so subtly), "So long as we have breath fueling our beating hearts, and the desire to fill its' void, is there not always hope?"
Slightly hidden as it may be, within this anthemic song of heartache lies a message for us all who have walked the stoop-shouldered walk of longing, who've dreamed of fulfillment, prayed for redemption, and cried until tearless; "dumdy-do-wah!" ...."There IS hope"!
By golly I'm HERE as a living testament to realized hope...ACTION sprung from wishes, REALITY emerging from need and SUCCESS resulting from change.
I can't obviously express myself with the eloquence of Roy Orbison but I can tell you a few things about conquering loneliness my friend....
"Shooby-do!"....If you've got a spiritual void in your life, then you need to simply ASK and the Good Lord awaits.
"Do-wop!"...If your dance card is collecting dust instead of dates then you need to clean up your act...get to the gym, take some classes get out of the house and AMONG the living.
"Wanga-dang!"....If it's booze or drugs that's isolating you from life then get your lonely butt to one of a HUNDRED meeting places in this town where hope springs eternal.
"Shoop doop"....DO THE MATH -take but a few moments out of your despairing and do an inventory of your life, multiply it by how much worse it could be, divide it into workable short term goals and begin subtracting yourself from the ranks of the lonely.
You'll have to pardon me for taking some leaps of imagination over founts of optimism here. ( yes they ARE giving poetic licenses to just anybody nowadays! )
I do sow upon soil only recently made arable and highly vulnerable to the whims of nature.
Only the lonely, of whom I am a paid-up alumnus, tend to get a might over-exuberant when the void of hopelessness becomes replaced by something so much the more substantive....like love.

I'm not talking through my hat here....I'm singing through it.

love tImMy:/
Laugh as much as you breathe....
Love as long as you live ( in song)

Monday, September 21, 2009

To Do #54


Morning Friend,
On such a poetically beautiful day I offer some beauti.....well, some poetry.


To Do by Tim Lawrence

There’s a certain piece of paper

upon which my days rely

No it’s not a hefty banknote

or a check of value high


It’s my handy-dandy “TO DO” list

ere revised but never tossed

Like a guide without a compass

without it I might get lost


Some folks I know fly through life

by the very seat of their pants

Taking things as they come

and leaving much to chance


But I am a creature of structure

spontaneity is for play

My list helps me prioritize

so no time gets frittered away


Reliability’s no accident

there’s no “trustworthy” gene

a challenged mind like mine excels

within a scripted scene


Now one might gaze upon my list

and find themselves dumbfound

This Maniacal Agenda

would run lesser men aground


Despite some trivialities

like household needs and such

I’ve several lofty things “to do”

and fear’s no more a crutch


Time is life’s sweet essence

every hour tinged with bliss

Every moment’s like ambrosia

with my accentuated list


There are eventualities in life

the great “To Do Unknown”

But my list is put on paper

and not chiseled into stone


It’s more of a Treasure Map

than a firm itinerary

A grocery list for a life lived well

a fool-proof recipe


There are ongoing projects listed

lest my enthusiasm quell

and the “little things” of fiction

that don’t “take care of themselves”


If there’s something I forget today

or an opportunity missed

It’s probable and likely

that it wasn’t on my list


I’ll admit it’s never-ending

I’ll cross one off as I’m adding two

But life’s much more fulfilling

when there’s so much more to do


Though this earthly time is precious

comes a time our souls are whisked

I pray my friend we’ll both be on

The Good Lord’s TO DO List


I’ll surely not get to everything

upon my list today

But I’m crossing off “write poem” now

and sending best wishes your way!


love tImMy:/
Laugh as much as you breathe...
love as long as you live ( doing)

Tuesday, September 15, 2009

Vigilance #53


Morning Friend,
It's very important for me to be extremely vigilant in my life today.
No there aren't any roving gangs of alcoholic instigators looking to shanghai me into a bender.
Nor do I worry about leaving a pop or a coffee unattended for fear someone might try and spike it.
And any man or woman alive ( except Sophia Loren?), would be wasting their time and energy trying to "convince" me to drink again.
The focus of my vigilance is the enemy within.....my own mind.
The voice.
The insidious virus of my alcoholism is for most of the time, Quarantined, yet it forever lies in wait.
It waits for my vigilance to wane ever so slightly so that its' whispered seeds of doubt may germinate.
"Look at you! Four years sober! ONE drink to celebrate?"
"C'mon....you quit once, you can just turn it off again?"
"What kind of a REAL man are you?"
"You know of course that your not drinking is a "red flag" for the ladies...you're either boring as pee on a plate or you're a psychopath, court-ordered not to drink!?"
"Hey you quit before ever trying Yagermeister...that looks like a wickedly fun drink, no?"
"How about getting on a good old GLOW, just for old times sake?"
"Your dance card is disgraceful young man...whatever happened to the old "Closing Time Closer"?....lotta tipsy empty hearts out there Champ!"
"After all this time, you should be able to CONTROL your drinking....weekends only?....maybe just a couple during the week?....just days ending in 'Y' ?
"What about your old Mantra....Drink like a MAN, get up for work like a MAN?"
"You've got a couple of free days coming up, c'mom NO ONE WILL KNOW!"
I should clarify my friend, that this viral voice does NOT plague my every waking moment with such "temptations".
Yikes!...I'd soon go mad with that kind of chatter constantly ringing in my head.
The truth of the matter is I very nearly did go mad when the voice had a foothold and dominated my daily stream of consciousness.
"Hey man you can't pass out yet...the vendor closes in 20 minutes and if you miss it, you'll wake up to an empty fridge....you don't want that!?!!"
"Yeah yeah, your life sucks...have another drink and forget about it!"
"TOMORROW you can think about quitting...jeez don't waste a good drunk worrying about that crap today!"
"There's nothing like a cold one on a ____day!"
"Another girlfriend dumped ya? Hey there's plenty of fish in the sea right!?"
"What do DOCTOR'S know? That teetotalling bastard probably tells that to everybody!"
"Like a blaze of glory old chap....doin' it YOUR WAY....that's how you want to go out.....live hard, play hard, die hard!"
I am gratefully blessed with ways and means to have shut that darned voice up and to soberly live and play hard. ( the dying part may not rival Bruce Willis in hardness but that's fine)
But it is a daily reprieve.
And each morning's prayer of gratitute includes a vow of continued strength and vigilence.
For no matter how many years of sobriety pass, I will always be but one drink away from square one.
In fact you don't even go back to where you left off.
You don't suddenly start "fresh"; developing a taste for booze and forging new drinking habits.
You start out a step back from your darkest days, only this time you are mired in the frustrating muck of heart-breaking disappointment.
You suddenly find yourself in the anticipated company of a dear old friend who to your horror, has not aged well at all.
Whatever physiological tolerance you had before is measurably weaker.
The tools for alcoholically functioning and the cues you relied on for drunken self-sustainment, are gone.
Your ever present virus relishes the fertile ground of your impairment and the now mutated and fully blown disease flourishes.
The circus....is back in town.
Only this time it's not Ringling Bros.....or anything close.
The lying, begins anew, but in a new and frustrating forum where no one cares to listen, because no one will care.
One of the greatest miracles to me in my recovery, is that I have managed to maintain the integrity of my quarantined virus, and not had a "slip" or anything remotely like one.
Despite the fact that the Good Lord's mercy knows no bounds and that A.A. especially caters to the recently fallen, I am having far too much "hard" fun to start all over again.
So you see why I have the need to be constantly vigilant.
And perhaps also why I seem sometimes lost in thought during the day.
(Sometimes I'm just day-dreaming about Sophia....)

Un-impaired by Tim Lawrence
This bitter nectar douses my upset
a fifth today, I’m not done yet

I know I’m quite a sight today
still lovely, in a hardened way

I was a Prince of promise rare
now an aging King whose Kingdom’s bare

Yes it’s the route which brought me here
hidden away from loved ones dear

But as redemption sweet was tossed
reconciliation’s lost

A reflexive smile as pain subsides
the drunken glee that anguish hides

I’m firmly planted in roiling sand
of sinking hopes – my helm unmanned

I missed the bus, my ship has sailed
a cab to purgatory’s hailed

And if I don’t apologize
it’s simple, I’ve no original lies

love tImMy:/

Laugh as much as you breathe....

Love as long as you live ( stick on ice)

Tuesday, September 8, 2009

The Imagination of Kings and Queens #52


Morning Friend,
While high atop the "giant" Ferris wheel at Tinkertown last week, it was brought to my oft-wavering attention by my three-year-old niece, God-daughter and "bestest buddy" Ashley, that "you can see the whole world from up here!".
As with many of her profound observations and those of my other two nieces; Angela 7 and Janelle 11, with whom I'd spent the thrill-filled day, I couldn't have agreed more.
Now there are certainly larger Ferris wheels in the world than Tinkertown's 30 foot high "horizon buster".
At the apex of the 443 foot London Eye which holds 800 people, one can see Windsor Castle...25 miles away.
The Singapore Flyer is 541 feet high, holds 784 passengers and boasts a view of parts of Malaysia and Indonesia....30 miles away.
The world's largest Ferris, or "observation wheel" is Beijing's Great Wheel. It is 682 feet high, holds 1920 people, takes a half hour to go around once, and from the top on a clear day you can see parts of the Great Wall of China....over 40 miles away.
Which is all fine and well I suppose for folks in those parts of the world with their apparent, and sadly limited perspective.
A child's perspective is not restrained by facts and figures.
A child's vision is not colored by societal conceptions.
A child's imagination is untroubled by comparative dimensions.
A child's interpretation of time and space can be representative of the boundaries of love and security and the quality of faith and trust in their lives.
If what they see, feel and hear on a daily basis are reinforcements of unconditional love, reaffirmations of God's unending Grace in their lives and reminders of their own unlimited worth, then a child's world becomes a borderless canvas upon which the palette of their imaginations may run wild.
Whoever it was who said "live each day like it was your last", could well have said "....like a joyous child at play!".
I have come to see, ( through ever-clarifying vision), that a child at play is like a joyous dream come to life.
And I am fairly awed by the love on which Janelle, Angela and Ashley are so exquisitely nurtured and the limitless imagination it inspires in them.
And I am immeasurably grateful to have felt the light of their love and the tremendous insight, humility and strength it inspires in me.
It is fear which limits a child.
It is disappointment which jades a child.
It is chaos which unravels a child.
It is darkness which extinguishes a child.
It was ( sister-in-law) Gwen's unfortunately broken leg which gave Mom, Dad and me the blessed opportunity to accompany "my girls" on their Tinkertown visit last week.
I'll admit to some preconceived disdain for the little "kids" amusement park just outside of town with "...the train that goes all around!", but since it was an annual family tradition that the girls were anticipating greatly, I readily agreed.
As so often happens when I am in their company, my not-quite-so "inner" child was reincarnated to the degree that I may have had as much fun or more than they did?
There are probably more than one person who was there who are still wondering about "those three lovely girls with that 6' 5" giddy galoot"?
Having Gramma and Grampa along turned out to be a wise idea in terms of structure and restraint!
No my friend, it's not Disneyland, or Three Flags, or The Ex, or even Wonder Shows.
But on that gloriously lovely day, "hanging out" with three of the most imaginatively ingenious, fanatically fun-loving, contagiously cool and beautifully blessed BLESSINGS that an Uncle could ask for, made it seem like the bestest one ever in the whole wide world!
A world which as I have previously stated, we could SEE....high above the clouds on the gigantic Ferris wheel.
I waved to those folks on the Great Wheel and some of them waved back!
...( kids probably).
love "tinker"-tImMy:/
Laugh as much as you breathe...
Love as long as you live ( giddily)

Tuesday, September 1, 2009

Cooking Rice #51


Morning Friend,

I was struck in the left brain by my amazing Black and Decker automatic rice cooker this morning.

It wasn't too terribly painful but I'm afraid it may have left a mark.

I don't think it was from being too close?.....I mean the thing has a glass lid for goodness sakes so you can gaze in wondrous awe at rice cooking to "perfection".

There is NOTHING in the instructions which says, "Caution! Overexposure may induce profound metaphoric musing. Symptoms lasting more than 4 hours require immediate editorial intervention!"

I was nevertheless stricken by how this remarkably simple and cleverly effective appliance is a lot like my life itself these days.

Let me first say that as one who has eaten and enjoyed my own primitively prepared "imperfect" rice on many occasions I can tell you I was skeptical about adding another "gadget" to my already space-challenged kitchen. ( It's so crowded I've got to go outside to change my mind!)

Besides which there was always an element of "'adventure" to rice-cooking that made the finished product - which could be anywhere in the range from "gloppy" to "crispy" - a little more palatable.

But I'm here to tell you, the thing works like a charm.

And the concept is simple. ( as simple as it must now be for the inventor to pretty well "print his own money"!)

What you do is simply throw in a specific amount of rice, water and spices, push a button, and walk away.

As Buckwheat would say, "It's a simple as that!".

Come back 20 minutes later and it's not only cooked but it's sitting in "warm" mode; a good thing indeed for those who might walk WAAAY away.

The machine has some sort of spring loaded SCALE which initiates the cooking cycle based on the weight of the uncooked rice and water.

Once the weight reduces to what "perfect and fluffy" rice should weigh, it clicks down into warm.

It's not "fool-proof" because you do have to put the correct ratio of rice to water but the measuring lines for that are clearly marked and the instructions are pretty concise and understandable, ( even to a pseudo-fool like myself).

Now the REAL beauty of this little beauty is in the spice.

You can put just about ANY flavoring your little culinary heart desires... from garlic ( my favorite), to lemon, tomato, pineapple, mustard, hot pepper, bacon, anchovy, curry....even cinnamon!

So there you have it my friend....POWER!

The power and abilty to concoct a perfectly textured side dish, ( or MAIN dish if you happen to be poor or oriental?) which you can customize, tantalize, kick up ( or down) a notch, zestify, inundate, fabulate and modulate....JUST the way you want!

As I sat there basking in the garlicky aroma of what was going to be part of my lunch today, and the aura of the magnificent day itself, I got to thinking about how so much of my day to day life has become simply beautiful, in its' beautiful simplification.

(I've got to do something with my mind without the rice to worry about now don't I?)

Do you ever lay in bed some mornings a little fearful of the day ahead?

And then when the courage to arise comes, it's tempered with hope, that it's going to be an O.K. day?

Do you then tip-toe discreetly trying to get through the day without too much fuss....blandly....like plain, ill-cooked rice?

As you may know, I spent years living like that.

Fearfully hoping that the days, and the rice, wouldn't be too terribly bad.

My recipe for living was complicated by alcoholic over-indulgence, convoluted by spiritual starvation, confused by erratic irrationality and decidedly not simple.

Feeling anywhere from "gloppy to crispy" made just getting out of bed in the morning an adventure.

In concert with the daily physiological toll that heavy drinking takes out on a person is a painfully palpable plethora of problems and confounding complications that just make everything, everyone and every eventuality difficult to swallow.

As far as flavor went, there always seemed to be too much of what you won't find on any spice rack; anger-root, sorrow-sauce, self-pity powder, fear-leaf, doubt-seed, pain paste, and of course always overdone with the hopeless-shire!

To have come from that, and now simply turning myself ON each day like a switch, knowing the day is going to be at a minimum "perfect" but likely moreso depending on how many notches up I choose to kick it, never ceases to amaze me.

Like that amazing little rice cooker.

I've got the Good Lord to thank for the perfectly amazing days.

And now Black and Decker for the amazingly perfect rice!

Amazing.

Love timmy:/
Laugh as much as you breathe...
Love as long as you live ( truly)

Life Stories

Life Stories by Tim Lawrence

The end of life…is not!

It is the end of a Chapter in a Grand, Spiritual, Novel !

These chapters called “life”, are enriching, engrossing
narratives of one’s earthly adventures.

In them, are an abundance of supporting characters and
supplementary plot elements, often curiously overlapping
and mysteriously intertwining.

Their length and depth varies from person to person;
from protagonist to protagonist.

Some people who have “died” in chapters ended many years
ago, are still quite “alive” today!

Their SPIRIT; their influence, their charisma, their wisdom,
their character, their enthusiasm, their joy, their ESSENCE....
continues to fill the “life pages” of all they’ve touched.

Their frail and finite physical chapter is ended, but the richness
of their story flourishes, and enhances God’s Novel!

Like timeless passages, indelibly marked in our hearts and
memories, to be re-read and forever treasured….
their lives never truly “end”!

When through God’s Mercy, the earthly narrative of someone
we love, ends….their life does not!

And for that, we are truly blessed!

* Dedicated with gratitude and love to the enduring Spirit of all who transcend fear and inspire faith by truly living God’s gift of life to the fullest!! T.L.