H.L. Hussmann's Blog, page 4

BACK TOWARD THE SPARKLING BATHROOM

It was the cleanest gas station bathroom I've seen. When I opened the door, the smell of bleach hit me.
The mirror was sparkling and the tile had been scrubbed.
I was impressed. I've been in spotless bathrooms at places like the Broadmoor Resort - but a Seven Eleven? Never.
But I wasn't surprised. I had been impressed from the time I entered the building.
The worker behind the counter was an old man - probably in his seventies. The best word I know to describe him is "kind" - something about his...

BACK TOWARD THE SPARKLING BATHROOM

It was the cleanest gas station bathroom I've seen. When I opened the door, the smell of bleach hit me.
The mirror was sparkling and the tile had been scrubbed.
I was impressed. I've been in spotless bathrooms at places like the Broadmoor Resort - but a Seven Eleven? Never.
But I wasn't surprised. I had been impressed from the time I entered the building.
The worker behind the counter was an old man - probably in his seventies. The best word I know to describe him is "kind" - something about his ...

GOD AND MY BLUE-VEINED GRANNY

I remember as a child sitting next to my Grandma-Anna Maria Olinda Hussmann (formerly Reinkensmeyer.) She was eating split pea soup. I was four and fascinated by the lines in her hands.
"Grandma, why do you have so many lines on your hands?"
She touched my hair. "Well, honey, those are blood veins and the older I get, the more they show up."
"Blood veins? I thought blood was red. Why are they blue?"
"Blood is red when it's outside the body. Inside sometimes it's blue."
"Why is it blue?"
"Well ......

GOD AND MY BLUE-VEINED GRANNY

I remember as a child sitting next to my Grandma-Anna Maria Olinda Hussmann (formerly Reinkensmeyer.) She was eating split pea soup. I was four and fascinated by the lines in her hands.
"Grandma, why do you have so many lines on your hands?"
She touched my hair. "Well, honey, those are blood veins and the older I get, the more they show up."
"Blood veins? I thought blood was red. Why are they blue?"
"Blood is red when it's outside the body. Inside sometimes it's blue."
"Why is it blue?"
"Well ... ...

EMBRACING THE DANDRUFF

Last week I heard one of the most memorable and Jesus-like quotations I've heard in years.
I was sitting in the Murray State student center. My friend, Becky Lile, and I were on day two of a sixteen hour editing marathon to finalize my latest book, Letters From a Martyred Christian.
We were sitting in a lounge about 10 feet from the glass elevator when Becky pointed over my shoulder.
"Look," she said.
Turning around, I saw what had to be twenty young kids (ages 3-6 I think) crammed into the eleva...

EMBRACING THE DANDRUFF

Last week I heard one of the most memorable and Jesus-like quotations I've heard in years.
I was sitting in the Murray State student center. My friend, Becky Lile, and I were on day two of a sixteen hour editing marathon to finalize my latest book, Letters From a Martyred Christian.
We were sitting in a lounge about 10 feet from the glass elevator when Becky pointed over my shoulder.
"Look," she said.
Turning around, I saw what had to be twenty young kids (ages 3-6 I think) crammed into the...

HOW BAD IS HELL? FIND OUT.

Step One:
Gather materials.
You'll need a good, sharp saw, lots of towels, and I suggest vice grips and straps to hold your leg still. You'll need a tourniquet. A belt or rope will do. A red hot iron plate for cauterization should be nearby. And, of course, you're going to want a stick, or a wallet - something to bite down on.
Step Two:
Get in the right mind set. This is going to hurt, and hurt bad. Plus, if you pass out in the middle, you're liable to bleed out and die. You're going to have to ...

DOOM, GLOOM, AND FINANCIAL COLLAPSE

I recently watched part of a documentary on "The Collapse of America."
It started with scenes of vacant industrial buildings, barbed wire fences, and broken down homes. The music was morbid - a funeral theme.
Soon, a man in khakis and a white button-up sat alone at the kitchen table pouring milk over generic Rice Krispies.
As I watched him going through his day, throwing on his jacket and kissing his wife as he walked out the door, driving to work, and sitting at his desk, a voice-over came...

MY FIRST KISS

It was 1986.
I was dancing with Karen Marie Bryant, one of the finest-looking babes at summer youth camp. I was thirteen years old.
Karen and I had been writing back and forth since winter camp and as summer approached the X's and O's (with a big X now and then) started showing up at the bottom of the pages.
My Bugle Boy jeans were tight-rolled.
Her hair was huge, her skirt was Lycra, and her earrings were monstrous plastic hoops.
Lionel Richie's voice filled the air ... Say You, Say Me.
Earlier...

ACT NOW, CHANGE THE WORLD

"Let me tell you about the day I died."
It's the first line of my new book, Letters From a Martyred Christian, due to be released in early 2012. You can read more at LettersFromAMartyr.com. It's a book I believe will change lives.
You may have seen on Facebook that I am running a Kickstarter.com campaign to pre-sell and raise funds for the associated costs. The link is at the bottom of this blog post.
Every penny of the profits from this book will go into non-profit Christian ministry with 5...