I am experiencing a slight occurrence of attention deficit this morning. I had thought of something to write about as I lay in bed this morning waiting for the alarm to go off. By the time I got downstairs the thought had totally eluded me. As I was reading Ezekiel a little while ago I came across an amazing verse that I thought would make a great story but I put down my Bible, walked my cold feet to the hot coffee and my writing subject plagued me every step of the way: a 12 year old young man.

So far this morning, in a matter of approximately 5-10 minutes we have talked about homework, hot lunch, cleaning the house, graded school work, movies, dinner, tomorrow’s breakfast, hygiene, and Saturday night. Any of my closest friends will know that covering that much subject matter in a small space of time is of little challenge to me. It’s no wonder that my son and I can pace each other so well and at such an early hour in the morning. We are extremely similar to one another and sometimes that is good and sometimes it makes me cringe.

Sometimes my 12 year old will say something or do something that gives me flashbacks to when I was younger and I was not a very good little girl. I was spoiled, did what ever I wanted no matter whom it may hurt, and I thought the world revolved around me. So, when I see the similarities I get a little scared. However, this young man has something that I didn’t have: faith.

If you were to ask Him the way to Heaven, he would tell you: only through Jesus. If you were to ask him if liked church he would look at you funny and say, “yeah, why” (like you were an idiot).  If there is an occasion that he may miss youth group there is a panicked look on his face and he bravely fights back tears. Through Greg and I, our friends, our immediate family, our family of faith, great leaders, strong youth programs, and a lot of prayers has been given a strong foundation that will hopefully guide him on his journey through life.

Yes, my son is just like me. My parents remind me often of that fact. But I can honestly say, with my big-grown-up voice, that it’s okay. We enjoy each other a lot, we understand each other, and we can read each other pretty well. Even when my son makes his mistakes in life I will continue to love him and pray for him. At the end of a bad day, when my son reaches out for my hand and asks if I want him to pray with me, I can still smile and thank God for sending him to me because I am pretty sure that when a little seven pound 1/2 ounce baby boy was given to me the rest of my life was changed forever. (oh, and he was born at 4:42 am….maybe we are just morning people)

“I pray that your love will overflow more and more, and that you will keep on growing in knowledge and understanding.  For I want you to understand what really matters, so that you may live pure and blameless lives until the day of Christ’s return.  May you always be filled with the fruit of your salvation---the righteous character produced in your life by Jesus Christ---for this will bring much glory and praise to God.” (Philippians 1:9-11)

Session 6

(Length 33:11)

Does God's word say that women should be in submission to all men in the body of Christ? Are women to subject themselves to male pastors, teachers, and leaders in the church? And exactly what authority does being male give a member of the body over the female members?

Join Monica Dennington as she goes straight to the Bible for God's answer to the queston: "Should women submit to men?"

www.infows.vai.la

www.infows.co.cc

www.infows.tk

e pelo endereço original:

www.ultimatelive.com.br/infows

Agradeço ao Everton Cesario por ter me cedido o domínio

Espero que todos tenham gostado do meu trabalho aqui no tecnologia e downloads, e lembre-se, não é um fim, mas sim um novo começo ;)

Obrigado!

Não toquem essa música
Waldick Soriano, 13/05/1933 - 03/09/2008

ps. se clicar no link do Waldick, repare na cara do Clô

LE CORAIL

After the movie, we were doing our regular debriefing of action scenes and comparisons of this movie to others in the genre when my son brought up the bus scene.

“You know, they don’t have to dress women like that.”

“Yeah, I know. Seemed so unnecessary, didn’t it?”

“Yes, and they don’t have to show so much. It’s hard for a kid who’s going through puberty.”

“Did it make you uncomfortable?”

“Yes, I had to have a fight with mind and say to myself, ‘I don’t want to look at that…Yes, I want to look….No, I don’t….’”

“I know, Son. That’s a battle you’re going to have to fight for the rest of your life, I’m afraid.”

“And they really didn’t have to do it in slow motion.”

Can I get an "Amen?"

Dos primeiros e confusos barulhos, ainda na unicamp, onde ativei o Implante Coclear, até os sons bem definidos de hoje, muitos foram os momentos de alegria perante um novo som, fosse ele algo aparentemente comum para as demais pessoas.

O primeiro som que ouvi naquele dia, já na rua, foi um ônibus passando. Um som confuso, que se foram somando a outros sons igualmente dificeis, algo normal em se tratando do fato de eu ter ficado tanto tempo sem esse sentido...

O primeiro som realmente nítido, que ouvi e identifiquei, foi nesse mesmo dia, o tec tec da seta de um Corolla que meus pais tinham. Era um tec tec tec bem ritmado, que se repetiu várias vezes.

E aos poucos os sons foram clareando, eram sons cotidianos, como passos, portas batendo, cachorros latindo, pássaros canoros, vozes, e aos poucos foram evoluindo, até chegar em um ponto que hoje não me vejo mais sem essa dádiva que é a audição, o mundo fica estranho quando está em um silêncio absoluto, perde as cores, perde a vivacidade, fica um ambiente apático, sem brilho. Já quando esse estranho silêncio é quebrado pelo fluxo continuo dessa doce melodia sonora.

5 anos de redescobertas dos sons... que venham muitos anos!

Of the five human members of our household, Middle Son J seems to be the one most in tune with his Irish heritage as far as the luck thing goes.   He used to bring home little prizes he won in classroom drawings all the time.  He escaped with only a mild concussion the time he absolutely totaled our Honda.  Of course, he would not have wrecked at all if he ever chose to trust in the wisdom of people 30 years older than him who said to make sure you DO NOT take that specific road if it snows because it gets very slippery and dangerous!!  His luckiest arena seems to be in the housing department.  This is great for J because he really needs his space.  He is a true epicurean who likes good food and comfortable surroundings.

He and his new roommate have settled into their German apartment and even have internet now.  He thought they might have to move but now it seems they probably won't have to.  His spacious apartment that he lucked into is actually officer's housing.  So instead of sharing quarters with 3 other guys and no kitchen facilities, he's in a suite with a kitchen and his own bathroom.  His first year at college he somehow lucked into one of the rare suites that was more like an apartment than a dorm room.  Then, when he went back to school this past January (after Army basic training and all), he ended up moving into a room that had been occupied by a guy who decided not to come back.  And he left a bunch of stuff there for J.  So not only did J end up with his own large room and his own bath, but the kid left him a fridge and TV.  Too bad we didn't know about it before we bought him a new fridge, bringing us to a grand total of 3 dorm refrigerators.

Muito já foi dito sobre o Raul, sobre sua maluquice, sua empatia com o público, sobre seus problemas com drogas e álcool, os pedidos constantes para que qualquer banda ou músico toque suas canções e principalmente pela sua legião de fãs e sua devoção exagerada. O que se comenta pouco é sobre a genialidade que lhe era peculiar. Ele de fato tinha vários parafusos a menos, mas isso não diminuía, de modo algum, sua inteligência.

Atualmente quando se fala em Raul, não se leva em conta o todo de sua obra, mas reduz-se aos hits radiofônicos de sempre. Pouco se sabe do lado filosófico de Raul que conseguia sintetizar em palavras simples pensamentos extremamente profundos e de suas provocações extremamente ácidas bem humoradas ao sistema e ao modo de vida capitalista-ocidental-judaico-cristão.

Musicalmente se diz que ele cantava mal e tocava mal. Mas agora me diga uma coisa: por acaso o Bob Dylan canta ou toca bem? É aquela vozinha anasalada, um violão bem picareta e aquela gaitinha com duas notas, fuin, fuó, fuin, fuó. Ah, mas o Dylan é americano, né? E o Lou Reed, sabe cantar? Sabe? Sabe?

E da habilidade que Raul teve de fundir o Rock com a música brasileira sem soar forçado? Ninguém fala. De ele cantar fraseados de baião encima de riffs roqueiros parecendo a coisa mais natural do mundo? Não se comenta.

Não. Preferem falar sobre ele ter visto discos voadores, feito pactos com o demônio e discutir por horas se ele se encontrou ou não com o John Lennon.

O problema do Raul é a universalidade de sua obra. Ele conseguiu falar para o comunista 68, para o garimpeiro de serra pelada, para o metaleiro, para os hippies, freaks e doidões com a mesma eficiência. Aí a elite "pseudointelectual-classemediana-quelêaveja-e-assisteoprogramadojô" acha que se a empregada ouve não é bom. Nem passa pelos 10% utilizados da cabeça humana, ridícula, limitada do cidadão que cada um percebe a obra de Raul Seixas segundo sua própria realidade e que pessoas diferentes tiram lições diferentes da mesma coisa.

Outro fator contra Raul são seus fãs xiitas, que muito antes de compreender sua obra na totalidade, (vejam que não cabem aqui generalizações, me refiro a um grupo bem específico), encaram Raul como um messias hippie e reduzem a mensagem de Raul à doideira só para encherem a cara e ficam abraçados cantando as mesmas músicas batidas de sempre.

Vá um pouco além. Esqueça as coletâneas, vá aos discos inteiros, ouça os lados "B", em especial dos discos dos anos 70. Você vai ver que Raul vai mais longe do que se quer acreditar. Em vez de ficar endeusando a empáfia de Gil e Caetano, experimente o escracho anti-elitista de Raul. Com certeza renderá bons frutos.

"Enquanto eu provo sempre o vinagre e o vinho. Eu quero é ter tentação no caminho
 Pois o homem é o exercicio que faz.
Eu sei, sei que o mais puro gosto do mel. É apenas defeito do fel.E que a guerra produto da paz"
                                                                                        (Raul Seixas)

It took my Father having a Heart Attack to make me re-look at my life. After I heard the news, I packed my bags and headed to San Angelo. I was so nervous not knowing how bad it was. My Father and I have been distant most of my adult life. I did not understandthe differences between us. I finished my graduate degree while he never attended High School. We were two different people...that is until I spent time with him.

My parents divorced when I was very young. I do not have alot of memories of him and I growing up. I was living with my Mother and Step Father. He was in the Air Force, so we moved alot, and later I joined the Marine Corps, more distancing myself from my Father.

When I webt to see my Father at the hospital, I never imagined how my life would change. My Father and I are closer than ever. His health is still an issue, which makes me want to regain our lost past. I sat down with my Father and told him my feelings over the past 48 years. He also told me of his Father and lack of bond between them. After several days of laying our hearts out, he told me two things that his Father never told him...1) I am Proud of you, and 2) I Love you!. I have waited my whole life for that moment.

I spent every moment I could with him, until it was time to go. I treasure that moment in my heart. A couple of weeks later, my family and I went back to see my Father and family. My Brother was running a very successful business in San Angelo. I watched as he would work, while his girls would play in the back. My Dad was running the cash register and helping customers and my Step Mom was pulling orders. I watched my family working together and laughing and enjoying each others company, I watched as the workers blended in as if they were family also.

I realized I appreciated my Father not for his success in life, but for the joy he brings to all that know him. Johnny Trigg is my Father...I am proud of him and I love him! I was also very proud of my brother who had the vision to see the future, build is company, while sharing it in a nice family environment.

I was so proud of my family in San Angelo, and the business they had built, that I joined in with the family business. I have been able to take what I have learned in college, along with my near 30 years of Retail experience, along with my family's support and branch off to Trigg Brothers Conchos, Novelties, & Design.

I owe most of the success to my brother Jeff, though I thank God the most for giving me the most special gift...

My Father

Jerry Trigg

Ms. M (taking attendance during the first day of class) - WK?

WK - My name is spelt WK, but it's pronounced Throatwobbler Mangrove.

Ms. M (who apparently isn't a Monty Python fan) - we'll stick with WK.

Dad and sons exploring at the beach.

A melodia é assoviável, mas é intrincada. Dá pra bater o pé no chão enquanto ouve, mas o tempo do baixo não casa com o vocal. A bateria quando parece que vai ficar reta, manda um contratempo. Algumas coisas se repetem como os delays da guitarra.

Mas o pior é a harmonia. Sempre têm aqueles acordes com 9ª que a gente não sabe se é maior ou menor e sempre chega uma hora em que a gente fica em dúvida sem saber qual acorde vai continuar aquela progressão.

Mas se você está ouvindo distraído, parece tudo fácil, que tudo tem começo meio e fim bem certinhos. Pode até ser, mas não é tanto assim. Às vezes o tom do vocal é agudo demais, às vezes o baixo é fora do tempo, às vezes não é uma palhetada, é um eco e às vezes a batida tem que mudar.