It’s all about….me?

I am changing careers. I have decided to start issuing official sounding studies about obvious things. I have a keen sense of the obvious. Why not profit from that? My career epiphany came as I read a study that found that college students are self-centered. Seriously?

I am planning to release my first groundbreaking study soon. My thesis is that people stuck in rush hour traffic are less friendly. I am pretty sure I am right.

While the conclusion of the study about today’s college kids isn’t shocking the conclusions about the reasons are indeed interesting. According to the study’s lead author, psychology professor Jean Twenge, the reason narcissism is now epidemic can be traced to an unhealthy desire to boost self-esteem.

The Cancer Chronicles

I am so happy that I decided to start this blog eighteen months ago. I would encourage every Christian to journal several days a week or you can blog (ego journal) about what God is teaching you. It is interesting and a blessing to look back at what God has been doing in our lives. Who knew when I began the daily ramblings that I would be writing about Joni’s cancer journey?

Don’t get above your raisin’

The lovely Mrs. Burchett and I recently had the joy of watching Ricky Skaggs and Kentucky Thunder in concert. I have decided that if am ever unresponsive you can check my heart status by putting a Ricky Skaggs CD on the stereo. If my toe doesn’t start tapping I am likely flat-lined. You just can’t help responding if you have a pulse.

I left the concert and waded through Skagg’s discography. One song brought back memories of something my Mom always said to me. The song that jogged that recollection was called Don’t Get Above Your Raisin’.

Waiting on the world to change…

Yesterday I had the joy of driving from scenic Garland, Texas to every bit as scenic Waco, Texas. Despite the mindboggling beauty of the I-35 transit I was able to get in some iPod time on the way. One song that struck me on the journey was a recent Grammy Award winner. The artist is John Mayer and he won a statue for Best Male Vocal Pop Performance with a song called “Waiting on the World to Change”. 

The song is written as an explanation of sorts for the apathy displayed by many of Mayer’s generation toward political and social activism. The song is powerful and, to me, a bit depressing.

Having an energy crisis?

Some days are too busy to write. So if I may paraphrase the classis bit from Johnny Carson…

“I have in my hand some earlier posts, a child of four can plainly see these posts are hermetically sealed. They’ve been kept since noon today in a mayonnaise jar on Funk & Wagnalls’ porch. No one-but one -knows the contents.” 

With no further ado we open the seal to one of these earlier posts. Hope you enjoy.


The Danger of Feeding Frenzies and Fueling the Fires

There was a little saying that I have heard all of my life.

If you can’t say something nice about them…then don’t say anything.

Had I practiced that very wise advice I would have had many more “quiet times” in my life. I have not always practiced that simple principle even though I have read and nodded solemnly in agreement as I read James and Paul warn of the dangers of gossip and an uncontrolled tongue.  Whether you call it venting or sharing it is always perilously close to gossiping. That is one of those “fine line” challenges. Like Dave Barry’s quote that “there’s a fine line between ‘hobby’ and ‘mental illness’.” I would submit that there is a fine line between venting/sharing and gossip. Gossip is one of the favorite tools that Satan has in his toolbox.

The curse is not beauty

I have tried to avoid the whole Anna Nicole Smith tragedy that is dominating so much of TV “news”. But an ancillary story caught my eye. The article in the Dallas Morning News was titled “Smith joins ranks of Playmates dead before 50“.  Apparently a disproportionate number of women who have posed in Playboy magazine have died tragically before the age of 50. Automobile accidents, drug overdoses, homicides, a plane crash — all have claimed the lives of Playmates. What caught my eye was a comment from a photographer for the magazine.