Burning Questions

Hello Children!

Blessings upon you all, I'm sure.

Friends, your servant-of -salvation, the humble Reverend Buddy, has been dutifully traversing the countryside, interacting with all who will have me, spreading the Word of Love like a juicy secret about a reality show starlet. Unfortunately, my story is not salacious; my tale does not appeal to the baser instincts of the human animal; my creed is not simply carnal instant-gratification.

No, my tale is the Greatest Ever Told, the story of a love so true and pure it transcends our bodies and our physical world. And these days, my friends, my story must sometimes play second fiddle to the racier TnA, melodramatic tabloid journalistic impulse-feeding tales of hatred, nationalism, race-baiting, and lowest-of the-low forms of psychotic titillation and riot-incitement. And I'm just talking about the front page of the New York Times!

Seriously, though, friends, it has ever been so. The passions of the populace have ever been inflamed by the reckless demagogues, bent on scratching the fears and phobias of the body politic into sores of civil unrest and social discord. Sometimes these rascals succeed; sometimes cooler heads prevail.

But either way, children, remember:

Love will outlast any storm, be it the fiery Holocaust, Kristallnacht; or the blight of strange fruit on the trees of the American South.

The arc is towards justice, Martin Luther King said. Dr. King, God bless him, was an optimist.

And that optimism, that belief in the ultimate goodness of people, is perhaps the deepest vein of wisdom mined by any of our greatest philosophers.

Remember, children, the faith of the multitudes bearing Good News, through flame, dungeon and sword.

There is always a voice that catches the ears of the crowd, that twists the wisdom into angry fear, a flaming passion stoked by fear of the unknown; just as there is the voice of the weary, fearful, or jaded, downplaying the deeply-felt doubt, the trepidation of good folks needing a strong voice to reassure them. And my friends, there is never a shortage of voices willing to join in the chaotic chorus of mankind, caught up in his daily fears, cares, and worries; there is no relief from the noise, it sometimes seems.

That is precisely when, my dear ones, you must seek out the serene silence of a safe place, a church, or library, or a park bench; when you need to put a little baby on your shoulder, and relax so she can fall asleep; when you should throw a red ball to a big old goofy dog, who will fetch that ball as many times as you will throw it; that is the time, my friends, when you need to take out a good book, and re-read the passages that first inspired you, and remember the heights to which your spirit had first been raised.

But friends, always resist the urge to burn the book.

Nothing good ever came from burning a book.

Seriously.

No matter how odious, objectionable, or offensive, burning a book is an act more reprehensible than the contents of any volume could ever be.

No one is saying you have to like what any book says.

No one is saying you have to agree with the contents of any volume.

Of course, books can contain evil thoughts, lies, fabrications, abominations; but they are only images, words, and ideas. If you are a Child of the Light, you are armed with the Sword of Reason, the Light of Love, the sustenance of Faith; those resources will be sufficient to keep your mind strong and your thoughts clear.

And most importantly, if you would treat the reader of any book the same as you yourself wished to be treated, you would grant him the peace and comfort necessary to read and enjoy the book he was reading.

You are not anyone's judge; there is only one Judge for each of us.

The most annoying thing about these kinds of arguments for me, folks, is the part where the followers of Jesus get cast as the Great Intolerants.

And unfortunately, there's always a toolbag somewhere willing to burn a book in God's name.

Please.

As you know, my dear flock, your pal the Reverend Buddy is not big on endorsing specific political philosophies. My goal is to cast a net of joy far and wide over all this great land, preaching virtually to all light surfers, telling the good news to everyone. But every once in a while, I've got to stop and address true craziness when I see it.

And burning books is just freakin crazy.

Have mercy on the poor souls who wish harm on each other for trying to burn books, or ban cartoons, or trying to rule others' thoughts just because they don't agree with them.

And children, though you know I am a lover and a man of peace, hear me when I say you shouldn't hesitate to fight for those freedoms, for if you're unwilling to fight for freedom, you will lose it;

but don't confuse these issues, my dear friends.

Live and let live.

We don't have to agree, but we can sure as shootin leave each other alone.

And just because some doofus somewhere wants to call attention to himself by burning books, don't think the world is ending. It's not.

There have always been a certain number among us who have thrived by sowing anger, mistrust, and ill will.

Many times these individuals have risen to power riding the waves of anger, suspicion, and fear.

But they have no power over those of us willing to take a deep breath, take out the garbage, and feed the dog.

Live your lives. Each of our lives is a precious draft draining from the glass, soon to be only a fading taste on the tongue.

Don't waste it in fear.

Don't spend your days in anger.

Drink deep your life, and belch it lustily. For I say unto you then, he who has drunk deeply of his joyous life shall never need the flames of a book-fire to warm his spirit.

And that is what I wish for you today, my dear friends:

May you always seek the truth, and be willing to face it yourself before shoving it under the noses of others;

May your faith strengthen your spirit, so you never feel threatened by the beliefs of others.

May you always be free, and cherish that freedom to the point where you are willing to fight to preserve it, for yourself and everyone else;

and may you always remember, you are loved, every moment of every day, just because you are you, in all your magnificent flawed impermanent fallible ways, and you always will be loved.

When you remember that, friends, your enemies are vanquished, and your loved ones protected, by that most powerful force in the Universe:

Love.

Feel the love. It's there, just for you.

Be the love. Verb that love, people, act it out.

Love.

And pick up a good book.

The noise will recede, and the smoke will clear.

Open your minds, and

Surf on into the Light

You can go by boat.

You can go by Kite.

Just go, go, go.

Surf on

into the Light.

I thank Dr. Seuss for inspiration

I wish you all sweet literacy.

Good night all you sweet surfers,

Your friend,

the Reverend Buddy Lee

Worship in Peace

Blessings upon you all, my friends!

Dear flock, your pal and erstwhile spiritual guide the Reverend Buddy Lee has been hard at work on the streets and byways, spreading like butter the Word of Love upon every nook and cranny I can find!

People, I have been on point, out working every day, shining the Light into every crack and crevasse which presents itself to me;

and, children, while I have often been embraced by magnificent humans who teach me by their brilliant example new ways to appreciate the art science and philosophy of Surfing into the Light, I have on occasion been dashed upon the shoals of hostility, my hardy little vessel of faith run aground upon the sandbars of indifference and jaded hipsterism.

And friends, I have even been accosted by, and scolded by, well-dressed community organizers, villainous billionaires, and chauffeured ne'er- do- wells, who from their station of privilege, have said unto me,

"Woe unto thee, Reverend Buddy, for thou hast cast a fairy tale of religion onto the masses, roiling them into a raucous and disorganized state, from which they are not as easily herded,"

So hath these great personages, cultural leaders, and high office holders, so have they derided me, your humble homilist:

"Thou hast cast aspersions upon our governmental orthodoxy, our venerated separation of church and state, in an immoral attempt to dilute our money-giving power."

They have wrathfully continued:

"Your invocation of God is unpatriotic and so last-century. You should come into the new day with us. Your insistence on celebrating God's love is dangerous and possibly bigoted. For you are not sufficiently tolerant of others when you espouse your own preaching. The Church of the High Beams is a gutter religion, illegitimate, and unendorsed by our pluralistic, diversity-driven paradigm."

Now, friends, it is true that I happened to be standing in the gutter at that very moment. I was watching a distinguished gentleman stand in front of a holy national statue and yell at the world about separating the church from the state, and how this might be our last chance to get it right, and I was saying to myself,

Reverend Buddy, this feller's preaching is far more apocalyptic and threatening in nature than anything you have been preaching since you gave up Thunderbird for inspiration, and I laughed softly to myself when I thought that little thought.

And a lady next to me, she said, 'What are you laughing at?'

And I replied, 'Well, I was laughing because most preachers I know wouldn't wag their finger at the flock, and tell them they should be ashamed of themselves if they don't do what they're told, or think as they're told to think; it's counterintuitive, to say nothing of the fact that it's intellectually dishonest."

"You're just a bigot," she replied.

"Madam, I beg to differ," I said. " I'm just saying that fire and brimstone went out of style a long time ago. If you want people to listen, you've got to offer them something real. Words like 'tolerance' and 'diversity' don't mean anything to people. They're abstractions, and this feller is using those concepts like hammers, hitting folks on the head with them. He thinks by standing in front of the Harbor Lady, everybody will overlook his angry face and arrogant Napoleonic manner, and buy whatever he's selling. But there's too much dissonance. Too much insistence, too much authority, not enough responsibility. Too much threat in his ordering us to be compassionate. It just doesn't add up."

"You're just a bigot, " she replied.

Right then, friends, I admit it, I sighed and turned away. I walked down the block, the words of the man in the suit ringing hollow off the pavement. Your pal the Reverend Buddy felt a mite defeated.

Because, as you know, children, my mission is to spread the joy around; I'm not anyone's enemy. I don't ever call names, and I never tell anyone what to do. I leave the judging to the Judge, if you know what I mean. Usually, I'm just so filled with joy that I can't wait to have a teachable moment with the folks I meet, because, even though I'm the Reverend Buddy Lee, in teachable moments, I'm always the one who learns something. Once in a while maybe I can offer an insight, but friends, I'm telling the truth when I say this world has a lot more to teach me than I it!

Anyway, I was feeling just a wee bit crestfallen after that session, and I stopped into a little shop to pick up some mints. The gent behind the counter didn't look too happy, either, so I gave it a try:

"Something wrong, friend?"

He looked up, and gestured to the show going on outside.

"Bad for business," he mumbled."They don't buy nothing. Scare away the customers."

He handed me the mints, and I paid him.

I noticed a photo above the counter. Three little kids were smiling in a tumbled pile on a sofa.

"Your kids?"

"Yeah."

"Beautiful family."

He smiled.

"Thanks." Just like the smiles in the photo.

"You have a blessed day, now."

"You know what?" he said.

"Where I go to pray, it's so small, no one even knows it's there. I don't care. I know it's there, that's all that matters. I came here to be left alone, just to make money, get a better life for my kids, no rich king or other asshole running my life. Here, they leave you alone. Pay your bills, mind your business, work all day, no problem.

That's why I came here, for a better life."

I shook his hand then, and said, "I truly hope you find it, brother."

I walked out of that shop, friends, filled once again with the spirit of hope and reconciliation.

And today, my friends, that is what I wish for you:

That, when you find yourself enmeshed in a swirling maelstrom of misunderstanding and mistrust, that a friend or stranger will reach through the miasma, take your hand, and lead you out of the chaos, back to where all is good and real, back to a place where you can be still, and grateful, and clear, and joyful; that someone will take your hand and help you find a calm space where you may worship in peace.

We know that place need not have GPS coordinates, or be found on a map; no, friends, it need only be a refuge where your spirit may once again get its bearings, rebalance, and continue its great journey. That is what I wish for you today, a rest stop of tranquility when you need it, as you keep on surfing into the Light,

Wishing you Peaceful Worship,

Your Friend,

Reverend Buddy Lee

Love's Labors

Hello Friends!

Blessings of saucy spicy juicy love upon you, each and every one!

I, your friend the Reverend Buddy, have been busily buzzing about the region since last we spoke, huffing, puffing and hefting the unbearably light blessings of the Lord, singing His sweet Song of Love on my rickety, slightly out-of-tune instrument, yea verily playing for all I am worth to any who will listen; and children, may I say, I have been enriched beyond wealth and words at the beauty I have witnessed.

O flock o' mine, your pal the Reverend Buddy has been copiously blessed by the many wonderful folks I have encountered in my recent travels. I am living proof of the Human Spirit's kindness, generosity, and Divine Grace, blessed as I have been by the legions of angels My Friend sends me daily!

In recent days, I have met mothers who have lost sons; instead of wrapping themselves in the comfort of grief, they have embraced the world and given it joy!

I have met strong young men who have lost arms and legs. Instead of retiring from life, they have grabbed for glory, climbing mountains and reaching across the world, conquering hatred and fear with love and courage!

I have met women, previously fallen from grace, now standing strong on their own, cradling babies bursting grandly into adulthood, growing up strong and giving life back to a world others would call cruel and unkind; transforming the very planet with love and grace;

I have seen the sick leap from their beds, saying, I have something to give, I shall not yet lie down, my life is not yet over!

And I have seen scores of people from all walks of life, from hedge fund manager to cab driver to garbage man to lawyer; I have seen them all, each day, laugh, cry, sweat, curse, and shout, as they work each day to bring their loved ones' dreams closer to reality. So many people, normal, flawed, imperfect; bless them as they drop their child at college. As they drive away, they think, I can't really afford this.... but she / he is my child, and I want them to have the opportunities that I did not have; I am investing in my baby, in the future. I believe in tomorrow, it will be better, if not for me then for my child; and I will work for twenty years more so it may happen, so my child may have a chance; because I believe in the future, the promise of tomorrow.

I may not love my work, but I love the child my labor will benefit.

I may never get a chance to become a tennis pro, but my child will get a chance to live her dream;

My great American novel will have to wait, because my child needs tuition money for college;

I may never sail my boat around the world, or lay on the beach, or invest the cash I've saved, because my son needs it to follow his dream;

And I will be a success because my children will have opportunity; and I will leave this world better than I found it, because I will have raised good children who have been educated and who will make the world better.

To you all, my brothers and sisters, to Iola,who lost her son Keith, but still held a race across the Brooklyn Bridge in his name; to Richie, who sent his son to become an engineer, even though he wanted him to join the family business; to each and every real person who gets up each morning to go to work because your kids need you to; to the RNs and EMTs who work all night so their kids can go to school in the morning; to the thousand million salt grains of the earth, I say to you, you shall all know heaven, because in your hearts you know love; you shall all be rewarded, for each day have you sacrificed; You will know joy, because with love in your hearts have you labored.

My brothers and sisters, think of the hope, pride, anxiety, and pain you have tasted each time you have left your child at another milepost; from the tearful first goodbye at kindergarten, through high school or college graduation. Remember the joys shared with their every accomplishment, the tears shared with their every frustration. Those moments are among your life's most intense.

Now imagine every face in the world, every grain of sand, every sparrow falling. Imagine sharing each moment of joy, pleasure, agony, and pain, as intently felt as when experiencing it with your own child.

If you can do this, friends, you can begin to imagine the beginning of the Lord's investment of Love in each of us. God cries at all our graduations, and funerals, and retirement parties; and His hand is on our shoulder in the moments no one else can see; the moments when we ask, Can I do this, I don't know; can I keep going when I want to quit; can I keep on coming through for the people who are depending on me?

Even when, yea, especially when you feel most alone, God is there at your shoulder, wing-man of wing-men, friend of all friends.

Just as love is the fuel of your sacrifice for your college kids, so is love the food of life, eternal life.

You're not alone friends, even though it may sometimes feel that way, as you pursue your life's labors of love; remember there is One who is always with you, through all of Love's Labors. Take the strength you need from the love, so you may keep it up , so you may

Surf on into the Light,

Your Friend, Reverend Buddy Lee

Choices

Hello My Friends, Blessings of Bounty Upon You All!

Once again dear flock, permit me to apologize for my extended absence. Your pal the Reverend Buddy has been hard at work in the vineyards, toiling diligently towards the maturation and development of his own pathetic instrument, in the interest of improvement and enhanced performance, particularly in the areas of redemption and salvation.

Hallelulia!

I have foresworn (most) libations, deigned to abstain from gluttonous and otherwise careless nutritional behaviors, and have begun to engage in more therapeutic forms of nocturnal wandering than I had previously performed; and the effects, my children, of these positive actions have been wondrous, yea miraculous, even.

How, Reverend Buddy you may ask, how have the miracles come to you?

Have you been made privy to fantastical visions?

Have you heard the voices of angels?

Have you glided above clouds, touched Salvation's hem, smelled the fresh morning's breeze of Victory?

Have you, Reverend Buddy?

And I must answer, my sweet naive charges,

No.

I have not.

For I am, as are you all, outside the Gates, and awaiting entry.

I am, as yet, unfit to tread upon the Path of Peace;

my ears are not yet tuned to the frequencies of the angelic host.

My eyes may not yet gaze upon the prophets, saints, and mystics in their serene glory,

nor smell the perfumed air in the Uncloudy Sky.

I may not yet touch that sky, for I have not yet obtained the Key, and made my passage.

But I ask you, my children:

Does that mean I should just wait, standing there with my mouth open and the properly-colored wristband on my arm, waiting like a drone for the doors to open and the show to start?

Shall I sit in my pew, nose to the sky, decomposing morally as I smugly judge others, lazily awaiting my perceived-to be-deserved eventual reward?

Should I recline before the Cyclops, in supplication to the false gods of momentary distraction, numb in the false comfort that my birth, faith, address, checkbook, or club membership will be all I need to flash as I pass on in?

Well?

I say unto you, it does NOT.

HELLS NO.

You got to prove it, people.

You got to bring it.

Every day.

All night.

You got to do it.

Your best.

Do your best, and forgive the rest.

Stay off the yellowbrick road of fanciful dreams; jog the cinder path as best you can. Put one foot in front of the other, thinking not of the finish line, but only the next step.

Don't imagine the sounds of heaven, when you can actually hear Buddy Guy, Stephane Grappelli, Emmylou Harris, and Ramsey Lewis provide the soundtrack to your grunting exertions as you try your best to move the body GOD GAVE YOU to a better place.

Celebrate the sweat that pours out of you, the result of honest toil, or butt-busting play, or the best dang karaoke version of You Shook Me you could possibly do.

Let the workout clothing and dedication of your gym-mates inspire you, as long as your inspiration, and their outfits, are not inappropriately revealing.

Amen.

Ahem.

As I was saying, children, I am here to tell you, as your humble homilist, that I may never attain the body of an athlete, or the mind of a scholar, or the spirit of a holy man. I will wind up my pursuits at their destination, wherever that may be. For my responsibility is the race, not the finish line. My duty is the action, not the result. My obligation is my best effort, and my best effort only.

Friends, Reverend Buddy the exercise guy will probably never achieve a six-pack, because I more closely resemble a keg-barrel. But that won't stop me exercising. I intend to bring it, every day.

And I may never compose a best-selling book. or become a self-help guru, because, as I have amply demonstrated, my talents, such as they are, are humble at best. But that won't ever stop me from straining my feeble mind to come up with stories and messages that make you smile, and entertain you.

And, despite my prayers, meditations, and supplications, I may never reach the summit of holy mysticsm that will allow me to purely impart the wisdom of Almighty Love to you. I'm not worried, though, because I will always spend each moment in my message bringing you laughter, love, and light, reminding you in every dopey way I can that you are loved, completely, just because you're you, and you always will be.

God loves us all, and God is in us all.

Love yourself, so you may better love God.

Love yourself, because God loves you.

There is Love, pouring like light from the Center of All Things, straight to your heart.

Open your heart, and let the Light shine in.

Let yourself get better.

Get better, or not.

We each of us have that choice, every minute of every day.

You're either getting better, or you're not.

Love always makes you better. The more you love, the better you feel.

So choose to get better, people.

Choose love.

Love yourself.

Choose love.

God loves you, and always will.

Choose love, and

Surf on into the Light,

Your Loving Friend,

Reverend Buddy Lee

Reverend Buddy's Message For the Holy Days

Peace to you, my friends!

I apologize for my ministerial absence over yea these last thirty days, but folks, your friend the Reverend Buddy has been deep in meditation, wandering the mystic wilderness, visualizing how best I could, through my own corrupt and humble vessel, provide to you my dear friends and flock, a message of peace that would give your minds inspiration and your spirits succor.

It is at this time of year when many of our Judeo-Christian friends and others turn to religious or spiritual thought, for the solemnest holy days celebrated by these faiths are nigh.

It is in that spirit of divinely-inspired reflection that I wish you all the most joyous of religious feasts; may your faith nourish your souls, helping you to reach and feast at the table of God.

And to all who find no path through the religious thicket, but who instead dwell in the land of diminished gods, or absent dieties, may you find the peace and comfort you require for sustenance of your instruments of consciousness, whatever they may be.

May the rites of Spring reawaken in your hearts the joy of life; may the budding world around you rekindle the fires of hope and goodwill; and may the songs of birds fill your ears and lighten your burdens.

Friends, many times the onset of Spring creates in our hearts the desire to clear the debris from the area; our souls are no exception to this urging. Spring cleaning is a good thing, whether it be clearing the fetid rooms occupied by one's own indolent adult children, or sweeping the cobwebs of resentment and regret from the crawl-spaces in our spirits.

After a time, everything needs cleaning, including our spirits. Now how, Reverend Buddy, you may ask, how in the world may I maintain my spirit, liberating it from the dust, grime, and dirt which threatens to clog and obscure it? Well, friends, I have prayed, dreamed, and pondered these many hours in the desert, waiting for the illumination of the Light upon my feeble mind; and it was revealed to me, that, just as a mop, bucket, broom and pan are the tools you may use to clean your rooms; so, too, may your soul benefit from the application of the cleansing powers of forgiveness, surrender, perspective, and empathy.

Friends, the cleansing power of the aforementioned attributes will have your soul sparkling, shining once again in purity and innocence. But, Reverend Buddy, you may persist in your denial-burdened way, how can these actions clear my soul? How, by forgetting, forgiving, giving up, and imagining to be those who transgress against me, how through these actions may I cleanse my spirit?

Well, friends, I will tell you, that, despite your obstinacy and pig-headedness, you will not only emerge with a sparkling clean spiritual vessel, but, if you act now, you will also receive, at no extra charge, Happiness and a giddy sense of euphoria at the lifting of the burdensome resentment from your hearts.

My dear sheep, your happiness can truly be limited only by the extent to which you are unable to forgive. When you forgive someone, you nullify the injury their behavior has visited upon you, at least in spiritual terms. Refusing to forgive, continuing to bear the grievance of your perceived affront, is much more trying than simply releasing the grievance from its stranglehold on your spirit.

Surrender the grief, anger, resentment, and bitterness. Let it fly away, like the seeds of weeds on the wind, to choke others' lawns; keep your own grass free of encumbrance, looking green and healthy!

Surrender the fight, no matter what it is, for truly friends, how many fights in life are really worth having? If we're honest, we realize that at least nine out of ten were not necessary at all, and that pursuing them only reaped more grief and heartache than ignoring them ever would have; To see this folly is to acquire perspective, to see before it happens how the snares of envy, vanity, and venality restrain us from being the true friend, the loving spouse, the caring parent we could otherwise be. Seeing the snares as they grow up prevents us from being caught up in them, allowing us to focus in our relationships on the important things, instead of the petty jealousies and trivial vexations that tend to beset our dearest, deepest personal connections.

And finally, when confronted with a thoughtless act committed against you, difficult though it may be, try to imagine what would cause that person to act in such a way. Walk a mile in the metaphorical moccasins of your neighbor before you condemn him. Such empathetic reasoning costs little effort; but it may save you countless hours of self-recrimination later.

Always ask: What can I do? How can I help? What can I improve?

Never ask: Why won't they do what I want? Why are they so mean/ ignorant/ intolerant, etc?

Never worry about things you can't control; never try to control another.

Always be responsible for yourself and all your actions; never cede control of yourself to another.

Clear your mind. Do your soul a favor.

And that is what I wish for you today, my friends:

That this Spring time, this time of holy days, will awaken in you a feeling of rebirth, allowing you to grow up like a budding beautiful flower;

May you forgive everyone, and may everyone forgive you, of everything, including everything you've ever done to yourself;

May you surrender to all who love you, and may they surrender to you as well.

May you stand back and see the long view;

and may you stand in the shoes of all those with whom you deal.

May you let go of all the fear, pain, bitterness, and resentment that holds you back;

May you open yourself to the love, beauty, truth, and opportunity that awaits you.

May you keep your own counsel, and keep your wits about you; and

May you give all you've got while you've got it to give.

My friends, if you're able to do that sometimes, you'll be making the world a happier place, for all of us; and that's all we can ask for, all of us, and any of us, as we

Surf on into the Light,

Your Friend,

Reverend Buddy Lee

Happy Passover

Happy Easter

Happy Spring

Be Happy Always!

Does Anybody Really Know What Time It Is?

Greetings, Friends!

Blessings on everyone, I'm sure.

Friends, have you noticed, have you been watching, the earthquakes in Haiti and Chile, all the talk of Snomaggedon, and Snow-pocalypse?

It seems we are obsessed, as a society, with the notion of the End of All Things. Natural disasters are no longer natural disasters, but the Finger of God, wagging at a sinful humanity, Lord have mercy; we are the baby boomers, dagnabbit, and our bad weather is not just bad weather, but a prelude to the impending apocalypse!

It's 2010, only 2 years till the Mayans say the world is done. A huge movie was just made about that, starring that young fellow from High Fidelity, which your humble homilist believes was quite underappreciated.

I have not seen 2012 yet; I'll probably take a glance at the DVD.

But friends, with all due respect to the ancient Mayans, the Reverend Buddy is not one of those preachers who is always castigating his flock about the imminent end of all things. No, friends, I am more concerned with helping us navigate the here and now, believing full well that if we take care to surf into the Light now, we will always be able to ride that Next Wave on in, when the time comes, Praise Jesus.

Children, we none of us know how much time we've got. And you, know, my dear flock, it's not how much we've got, but what we do with it that counts. And friends, remembering that these days will go a long way towards helping you find the way home from work, when according to the multiple megaphones muttering from that towering tower of babbling baloney with the plasma screen in the living room, when those voices are constantly screaming at you that today is the day you should load the rifles and bolt the compound door behind you.

Take a deep breath.

When you're feeling that way, children, you need to take a moment.

Remember:

There are false prophets everywhere.

Your pal the Reverend Buddy, well you know that I ask nothing of you.

I don't want your money, I'm not looking to sell you anything.

All I want you to do is, when you feel like it's all going to heck in a handbag,

all I want you to do is,

Take a breath.

Breathe.

It don't matter what time it is.

God loves you, whether you're in your first moment , or your last, or anywhere in between.

You are loved, sure as night turns to day.

Folks, you should feel a little bit better then, and that's all Reverend Buddy wants.

Now, it seems that our Evangelical friends, and some embracers of the survivalist philosophy, are being singled out for particular scorn by some of our brethren in the blue states. That is unfortunate, but, friends, not unexpected, for we as humans often mock that which we fear or fail to understand.

I have a message from a Ms. Becky Dautrive, of Ganglion Springs. Miss Dautrive writes,

Reverend Buddy,

Do you know if the end times are upon us, and if so, do you endorse any specific course of action?

Friends, I have received many such queries in recent days. I have been perplexed to note that many august members of the Wall Street money changers fraternity have taken to predicting a breakdown in society, urging their fellow wealthy rascals to abandon hope in society's civil conventions, urging them to buy generators, seeds, and self-sufficiency gear, and set off for the wilds, where they might establish compounds of safety in advance of the chaos they feel certain is coming.

Now, friends, I say I'm perplexed by this behavior because the very people who have endorsed this new survivalist strategy are themselves the perpetrators of the events which they now claim shall lead to the sundering of our social fabric. Reckless borrowing, and speculation on the debts of unreliable debtors, has led us to this point; and those who have enabled these fiscal disasters, after having been rescued by your tax dollars, have now taken the evil millions in bonus money they awarded themselves, and are attempting to skulk off into the woods to create their own little utopias.

Reverend Buddy says, Dear Miss Dautrive and friends, let the money changers go. They have mocked the militias in the past, and now are endeavoring to imitate those whom they ridiculed; the evil ones are creating their own apocalypse, and will rise or fail on their own. Let them go.

Bless your faith, for it shall give you strength. We abandoned by our betters will be left to fend for ourselves. Left among us are the nurses, police, firefighters, and other employees of civilization.

We'll have to make the best of it, and we will. Have no fear. Turn off your TV, and take a can of soup out of the pantry.

And don't worry.

No matter what time it is, you've got to keep doing your best.

Breathe, Becky.

You are loved.

And, friends, that is what I wish for you today:

That, should you find yourself outside the door of a compound in the woods, someone will open said door, and invite you in for a can of soup, no matter what the hands read on the civilization clock;

and that, should a knock come upon your door, that you will be able to open it and give aid to your fellows in their time of need.

For that is what we all need, my children: Friends whom we may rescue, or who may rescue us, in times of peril and need.

May you always find friends in your time of need, and may you always be a friend in such times to others.

And remember, at all times, there is love just for you, in the Heart of All Love.

Embrace the Light, my friends, as you

Surf On in Love,

Your Friend,

Reverend Buddy Lee

Reverend Buddy's Vision

Hi Ho Friends!

Let me start by wishing a big old wet sloppy blessing of love upon you all!

Your friend Reverend Buddy is filled with the Spirit, and it has lightened my heart, and yea verily placed a large spring into my step, and a silly smile of joy upon my face.

Friends, I have won no lottery, no jackpot, no daily double; nay, though I have often cast my lot among the gamblers, gamesters, and horse-players, children of God though they may be; no, though I have often played among them, I have no winnings to speak of;

And, Friends, I have no bonanza of stock-market riches, though I have chased penny-stock tips, and speculated on get-rich-quick schemes, spinning Wall Street's Wheel of Fortune, tossing hard-earned dollars into the Big Bank Combine, watching it get shredded into nothing; no, for that effort, I have gotten little but hard-earned, bruising wisdom.

I have traveled through forests full of enchanted herbs; I have lost myself in their foggy fumes. I have drunk magic potions, and have had revealed to me many fantastic visions and nightmarish phantasms; but the next day has always dawned, often in the form of an accompanying headache, and sometimes protracted physical illness; but no matter, each day has dawned, revealing me to be back in the place from which I launched my ill-fated journey of psychedelic-alcoholic-narcotic-hallucinogenic indulgence on the previous night. Sometimes, children, I would find myself in a strange place, in the company of strangers, wearing strange costumes, speaking in a dead language, performing an abominable ritual, ecstatically gyrating in platform shoes in Studio 54....yes, children, such places really did exist.

I have lain with the Bathshebas, Salomes, and Magdalenes, ministering to the fallen angels of the evening, sometimes repeatedly; bringing the cleansing Word to the place of the Easy Action; all of this children of course, before I met the Mrs. Reverend Lee, the estimable Flossirosa Rita Magdalena Fernandez-McThomas Lee,who began the journey by my side which eventually led me out of the Desert, and into the Light.

The Lord appeared to me then, actually, became audible to me , in the form of the voice of Mr. John Lee Hooker, singing in my ear one night in a dirty alley, he sang , Don't look back, with minor and major seventh chords; and during the instrumental break, which was dreamy, very jazzy, kind of free-form, the voice of the Lord came, kind of like a voice-over, and the Lord told me:

Reverend Buddy, you are a fine person. You've screwed up just about every possible way you could, yet here you are, hearing the words of John Lee Hooker, looking forward, opening your mind to my voice.

Reverend Buddy, thou art my child and I love thee. Thy journey is just now beginning. I say unto thee now, with thine own hands, thou shalt build me a virtual church. Thou shalt name this church the Church of the High Beams, and thou shalt bring joy to thy flock.

Speak to thy flock of my love, and its myriad manifestations. Remind them of life's good things, for they will need such reminders often.

When the noise of chaos and turmoil vexes their spirit, remind them of Dick Dale, and Al Green, and Ray Charles;

When the turmoil of politics and power crushes their hearts, remind them of Joe Franklin, Yogi Berra, Soupy Sales, and Uncle Floyd;

When their souls are flagging from their everyday cares and worries, drop your virtual pants, and let them laugh at your ridiculous boxer shorts with the hearts on them;

always remind them, Reverend Buddy, because it's so easy to forget, remind them that I love them, and that I am not mass opium, or a leash to use on a mob; remind them, Reverend Buddy, that life is just a series of waves. Some waves are killers, some are treasures; some we should let pass, some we should swim for with all we got; but no matter, through every and each ride, I am with them.

I am love.

And I love you.

Build me my church, Reverend Buddy, Be the rock-and-roller on whom my church may stand.

Right about then, Mrs. Reverend Lee splashed me with a pail of mop-water, and I arose from my vision.

I followed Mrs. Reverend Lee into the kitchen of the Mess Hall. From down the road, the silver statue of Saint Joseph smiled, and waved his detached hand at me, and I knew that all would be well.

Since then, friends, I have been on a mission, a mission of joy. I smile like a fool, with a Hopalong Cassidy-spring in my step, because I am full of the Spirit, and, children, it lights my way, and lightens my heart so it is like a breeze-borne spore, splashing above the magical fearsome waves crashing at the end of the world.

And friends, that is what I wish for you today.

May each of you find your lives illuminated by a love, a passion, a purpose so beautiful, that it puts a goofy bounce in your stride, and a silly smile on your face, and an anti-gravity device on your heart;

may your days be animated by joy, even when the work is tedious; may your yoke turn to wings, and may you dance blithely over the sword's blade.

May your next cheeseburger taste friggin awesome, and may the next song on the radio be your favorite.

And may you always keep surfing, goofily smiling,

Into the Light.

Your Friend,

Reverend Buddy Lee

When It's Real Love

Howdy, friends, welcome to our weekly visit. Today is Valentine's Day, and it being a holiday of sorts, well, I figured I'd share with you a riddle:

When it's real, it never runs out;

when it's not, there can never be enough.

When it's true, you can't wait to give it away;

when it's not, it's for sale everywhere.

It's always free; if you've gotta buy it, it's not real.

You can't find it in your pocket, it can't really be kept.

You can't wear it, or eat it, or drink it;

though you can be warmed, nourished, and fortified by it.

When it's real, you show the whole world without a care;

when it's not, you tend to be more...discreet.

When it's real, warts-and-all is still beautiful;

when it's not, even perfection won't conceal that flaw.

We receive it as a gift, often without doing anything to earn it;

it can't be obtained by conquest, or lawful judgment.

The only sure way to get it for yourself is to give it as freely and plentifully as you can, to as many others as possible, without condition, fear, doubt, or reservation; and then you can only hold it for as long as it takes you to give it to another.

When it's real, it shows itself in infinite variety;

when it's not, it's not, no matter how you dress it up, package, wrap, or brand it.

When it's real, it lives on, after you're gone from this earth, lighting the lives of folks you'll never even meet, even though the coroner won't see it among your remains;

If it's not, it'll pass into obscurity, mortal as flesh.

If you have it, my friends, you never really die;

but without it, children, you may never truly live.

Whew! Well, that was a long-winded riddle, there, wasn't it, sisters and brothers?

And of course, you all know the answer, my friends. We all know what it's NOT:

It's not money, or youth, or power, or fame; not influence, notoriety, beauty or sexiness, or wit, eloquence, intelligence, luck, or a Dale-Carnegie-esque ability to engage your fellow human;

no, though we some of us possess some or all of these attributes in copious amounts; possession of these characteristics does not itself translate into happiness;

being 'all that' really isn't what it's about, people; and yea though you may be rich, beautiful, desirable, and a true coochie-coochie-coo cutie; without this one itsy-bitsy word, you're a dried-up pile of forgotten old bones.

What's that word, people?

The word is

LOVE

Say it with me now LOVE

Say it again LOVE

Say it like-a Felix Cavalieri like a Young Rascal at the end of 'Good Lovin''

LOVE LOVE

LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE LOVE

what is God LOVE

what are we made of LOVE

What is the

Light LOVE

Truth LOVE

Sword LOVE

Word LOVE

The word is love

the word is love

my people it is real it is true it is me it is you it is

LOVE!

And friends your servant Reverend Buddy has been blessed with the honor of telling you that all real love comes from the Lord, and He loves each of you, no matter what.

Did you not get a greeting card today? God sent Reverend Buddy to tell you, You are loved!

No box of chocolates? No red red roses? No matter!

Reverend Buddy, here to tell you: you are loved!

Every holiday, eight days a week, rain or shine, come what may, you are standing in the Light of the Lord, and your beautiful imperfection is loved in all its magnificence, and you don't have to do anything but be you.

Brothers and sisters, this can be yours, every day, all the time, and all you gotta do is one thing:

What's that you ask, Reverend Buddy, are you making a deal with me on behalf of the Lord?

And I say unto you, no, verily, I, the Reverend Buddy, am but a poor broken down pawnshop instrument of the Lord's loving Light: I make no deals, I sell no indulgences, I strike no bargains; no, dear flock, I may, on occasion, sound like a huckster, a Bible-thumping Billy Mays (may he rest in peace), but that is my own corrupt sad mortal imperfection;

No, my dear friends, my joyous duty is to appear before you today to remind you that the Love finds you everywhere; the Real Love is yours always, whenever you wish it. All you need remember is, Brothers and Sisters, all you need recall, all you need know is that the word Love, the word, my friends, the word LOVE is a VERB!

You want love? You got to LOVE! Love is Action, my friends! Put love in everything you do, and everywhere around you will be love!

Just love, love is all you got to do. Don't wait for it, or pine for it, or go on-line for it!

It won't come TO you, people; it's got to come FROM you, because it IS you!

The Lord that gave us sunsets and hang-tens and half-pipes also gave us tsunamis and riptides and wipeouts.

We all of us are blessed and cursed with good and bad stuff throughout our time together here on earth.

The only thing we really get to control is what we DO.

The only thing that shows who you really are is what you DO, your actions.

If all your acts are acts of love, then , my sisters and brothers, you are love.

Be the love, people.

Be the heart of the love. Be real, real love.

I wish you that today, my friends. I pray that you, in each of your lives, may be the love that lights the world of your families, friends, and the fortunate strangers you will meet.

Then every day is a holiday.

Every day is joyful, no matter what happens. Every day is happy, when you love.

Reality is yours to make, every day. Make your love a reality, every day.

Every day is a beautiful day, my friends, when love is what you do.

Every day is a beautiful day, when you remember you are loved.

And you are love.

And the love is real.

Yes the love is real.

Surf on into the love,

Reverend Buddy Lee

Hallelulia Sisters and Brothers!

Blessings Upon You All!

My brothers and sisters, I welcome you to the initial message from The Reverend Buddy Lee, Pastor of the Church of the High Beams, coming to you from a cobweb-covered place in your mind, or maybe just somewhere in the ether.

Be advised, my children, the Church of the High Beams is different than any other, for:

No money shall ever be sought from you;

All are always welcome;

Speech shall always be free;

All opinions expressed herein are those of the Reverend Lee, and you need never agree, heed, fear or support them if you don't want to.

Our mission is to bring laughter, light, and the love of our life together into focus for you who may stumble onto our pages.

We believe in God, but all atheists are welcome;

We believe in justice, but we are not judges;

We seek truth, and we take it where we find it,

and if you don't like us, well, bless you brother,

Surf On.

And now, on to Episode 365:

Brothers and Sisters,

I recently read a letter from a sweet young girl. Her heart was heavy, and she faced despair and uncertainty. She was rescued from this despair, my friends, by the light of the Lord's love. That light shined down on her and saved her.

And from where, Reverend Buddy you ask, from whence did come such Divine Intervention, that shined its light on our young darling in her time of woe?

Well, I'll tell you.

Friends, that light came from a young man filled with the Spirit, and I believe, spirits as well, (Jameson probably), a young man who removed his garment in a public place, and sang a song of love and friendship which gladdened the heart of our suffering young lady;

and, yea though he was reviled, mocked, and verily spat upon; though he was called names and mocked by the vicious throng, the young man sang for his friend in distress, and in so doing, gladdened her heart, bringing to her the light of the Lord's love, dismissing her despair as a cyclone dispels cigarette smoke; for love is the most powerful force in the universe AMEN

And our lad bared his soul, and his chest, too, and sang for the sweet heartsick angel, bringing her out of the darkness, and into the light.

And, friends, when I finished reading, I needed a moment.

I became a little verklempt, I admit.

I fell to my knees and asked the Good Lord, Lord, if You ever saw fit to bless me with a son; if you ever deigned to say, Reverend Buddy, here is a little boy of your very own, to raise up and love as your son; well, Lord, I'd want him to be as strong and full of love as the spirits-filled, bare-chested boy who sang to the sweet sad girl in the noisy vulgar coliseum; and, I wouldn't be prouder or happier if he was a big shot, or a rich man, or a lottery winner;

No, Lord, I'd feel like I won the lottery of Life if I had me a boy like that.

CAN I GET AN AMEN!

Because, friends, the best we can do on this earth is to find friends to love us, sweet friends we can sing to, and comfort; it doesn't take money, and you don't have to necessarily be that good a singer; you don't have to strip, unless you're singing a Barry White song, maybe;

but friends, we are blessed when, in our times of trouble, we have someone who will disrobe and sing for us in front of fifty thousand people, just so we smile.

My sisters and my brothers, that is what I wish for you today:

That in your darkest moment, you will have a spirits-filled friend who will gladly sing bare-chested in a public place, a friend to take your hand, and walk with you, and help you find your way out of the darkness, and into the Light, the Light of the Lord's sweet Love.

Surf On into the Light,

Reverend Buddy Lee