When using words beyond those of “simple English”, it often seems that others are quick to assume the speaker (or, writer) to see himself as on another level; namely, one above them. That assumption often fails to be rightly grounded.
So, here in the beginning, I simply want to make it known that my ivory tower is actually made of wood and can be visited by anyone who wants to climb into it at a local park. As I write the posts on this blog, you (the reader / viewer) can quite comfortably feel certain that I am more than likely not in some old-world study with a pipe hanging lazily from my mouth. On the contrary, probability would have it that I am actually in the parsonage so kindly granted to my by a loving body of Christ just outside of Ackerman – a town with a populace numbering not quite 1700. In this comfortable parsonage, there is probably a beautiful little terror running around. (Days ago, she just learned to walk.) She is – no doubt – screaming, crying, drinking water from a wash cloth recently dipped in a toilet, digging in every trash can she can find, unrolling every square of all-too-valuable toilet paper from its roll, leaning over my lap with her eyes mere inches from mine so that I must look at her instead of my book or laptop, or quite likely jibber-jabbering on a couple of remote controls she mistakenly confuses for cell phones. In the background, you can probably here “What Not to Wear” on TLC, for which I cannot entirely blame my wife – I like it about as much as she does.