Cracked Pot

A water bearer had two large pots, each hung on the ends of a pole, which she carried across her neck.
One of the pots had a crack in it while the other pot was perfect and always delivered a full portion of water; at the end of the long walk from the stream to the house, the cracked pot arrived only half full.

For a full two years this went on daily, with the woman bringing home only one and a half pots of water. Of course, the perfect pot was proud of its accomplishments. But the poor cracked pot was ashamed of its own imperfection, and miserable that it could only do half of what it had been made to do.

After 2 years of what it perceived to be bitter failure, it spoke to the woman one day by the stream. "I am ashamed of myself, because this crack in my side causes water to leak out all the way back to your house."
The old woman smiled, "Did you notice that there are flowers on your side of the path, but not on the other pot's side? That's because I have always known about your flaw, so I planted flower seeds on your side of the path, and every day while we walk back, you water them. For two years I have been able to pick these beautiful flowers to decorate the table. Without you being just the way you are, there would not be this beauty to grace the house."
Each of us has our own unique flaw. But it's the cracks and flaws we each have that make our lives together so very interesting and rewarding. You've just got to take each person for what they are and look for the good in them.

SO, to all of my crackpot friends and fans, have a great day kids and remember to smell the flowers on your side of the path!

Loveya....Ric

Court Testimony

Police Officer is on the stand, being cross examined by attorney for the defendant.


Q: "Officer--did you see my client fleeing the scene?"

A: "No sir. But I subsequently observed a person matching the
description of the offender, running several blocks away."

Q: "Officer--who provided this description?"

A: "The officer who responded to the scene."

Q: "A fellow officer provided the description of this so-called
offender. Do you trust your fellow officers?"

A: "Yes, sir. With my life."

Q: "With your life? Let me ask you this then officer. Do you have a
room where you change your clothes in preparation for your daily duties?"

A: "Yes sir, we do!"

Q: "And do you have a locker in the room?"

A: "Yes sir, I do."

Q: "And do you have a lock on your locker?"

A: "Yes sir."

Q: "Now why is it, officer, if you trust your fellow officers with
your life, you find it necessary to lock your locker in a room you share with these same officers?"

A: "You see, sir--we share the building with the court complex, and
sometimes lawyers have been known to walk through that room."

The courtroom erupted in laughter, and a prompt recess was called.


Take care....Ric

Wrong Side of the Tracks

There can be no argument that there is a stark difference between one side of the railroad tracks and the other- and we all know don’t we about how literally the other side of the tracks is no doubt the bad side.

That divide, though, is a phenomenon.

The other side is an area of danger, full of gangs and crime…..reports of muggings and thugs….all on the other side of the tracks. It is a place that forever has been known to be covered by a dark shadow.

I am on the good side. Thankfully.

On my side - a nice park from where I regularly stop to view the skyline of the city. On the bad side - a bad park with no view; rubbish and an aura of creepiness.

On my side, tennis courts. Over there drunks, walking the streets all hours.

On the good side, traffic jams. That may be the worst part. Even the trees look healthier on the good side.

The good side feels like it is basked in sunshine and clear blue skies. The bad side feels grey.

The good side is quiet. The bad side is noisy.

In the alley ways of the good side a kid is riding his bike through. You don’t want to venture down the alleyway of the bad side of the tracks.

As soon as I cross the tracks, I can feel my mood change. What was once a calm, serine, relaxed mentality, soon turns edgy, on guard and suspicious.

This is just my subjective viewpoint. Maybe we each have in our own mind, an imaginary train line division of good and bad, a line we prefer not to cross.

In our life, we each decide where and how we want to live. You can investigate and visit different neighborhoods and ways of life. You can go for a drive and look around. Sometimes we do. Some do. But we are often swayed by things we have heard. A certain place gets a “bad” reputation. Was our mind made up before we even visited over there?

Maybe the other side, the bad side, was a myth. And those over there, well, they thought their side was the good side.

cya.....Ric