Hunger Strike

Good Afternoon Gentle Readers

It has been awhile since I have written but I have been so busy as of late with a new baby and all that comes with that. Work is going just sort of as you would expect it, though I have been able to make some head way into the mess that I inherited from my predecessor. I am still looking for a better job but that is a slow process.

The other night I was driving to the store to pick up some sweet potatoes, that’s a story for another time by the way, anyway I had my radio on and I heard the song Hunger Strike by Temple of the Dog. Now I have been worried, of course, about all the changes that are going on in my life, how will I be able to provide for my family, will I be a good father, a good husband or will I make a mess of it that will not only destroy my life but the lives of those I love the most. I am sure that these thoughts occur in the minds of every new parent, you are really responsible for a whole new life and everything you do will have an impact on that most precocious gift. Suddenly I found myself focused on one of the lines in the song, “But I can’t feed on the powerless when my cup’s overfilled”.

It occurred to me that even though I don’t have all of the things I want to give my child, or all of the things I want to give Cindy Lou that I still have so much more than we will ever need, and in all fairness I have more than I could ever deserve.

My child will grow up in a world where he knows that he is loved by me, I will do all I can to teach him the things that will make him a good man, a just man, a fair man, a person who is not afraid to love and to be loved. I hope I can give him some of my values, and I hope he can avoid my weaknesses and my failings. I will try to show Cindy Lou how loved she is, and even though she does not know it all the time, how wonderful she really is.

As for me I will try to be good enough

Take Care and God Bless

Good Enough

Hunger Strike

Temple of the Dog

Songwriter Chris Cornell

I don't mind stealing bread
from the mouths of decadents
but I can't feed on the powerless
when my cup's already overfilled

But it's on the table
the fire is cooking
and they're farming babies
While the slaves are working
the blood is on the table
and their mouths are choking

But I'm going hungry, yeah

I don't mind stealing bread
from the mouths of decadents
but I can't feed on the powerless
when my cup's already overfilled

But it's on the table
the fire is cooking
and they're farming babies
While the slaves are working
the blood is on the table
and their mouths are choking

But I'm going hungry, yeah

But I'm going hungry, yeah

But I'm going hungry, yeah