I’m No Superstar
I’m No Superstar is a blog for people like me who want to make a difference in the world but know they aren’t activists. Each post contains a social action idea that most of us could do, a book that’s worth reading, or a link to a website that offers other ideas. Oh, and it’s all introduced by a sometimes quirky story from my life.
“You’ve been reading that book for like a month,” my husband Les said. Yeah, he’s right. I’ve dragged it around, reading it. Slowly, ever so slowly. Painfully even. It was a slog. A slog through dangerous terrifying territory. It was hard to read more than a few pages. My heart ached. But I was determined
What is the first book you remember reading? Johnny’s Cookies is the first I remember actively seeking to “read,” the first book I memorized. I continually took it out of our church library. A counting book in which Johnny gives his cookies to various people, it wasn’t profound kids’ lit; but I loved it. At
Last Saturday, our friends Marsha and Kerry took us to the “Elvis Birthday Bash,” a program at the American Music Theatre that features two Elvis impersonators—Scot Bruce (as younger Elvis) and Mike Albert (as older Elvis). Now I would not consider myself an Elvis fan. I would have said before Marsha and Kerry took us
Every year Les and I go to the Gifts That Give Hope Alternative Gift Fair. We eat great food. Browse the information on nonprofits and choose meaningful gift donations for various family members and friends. Explore the unique fair trade gifts, clothing and chocolates offered. Maybe listen to a musical group. It’s an amazing event.
I grew up on an independent Baptist church. I remember being told we weren’t part of a denomination because denominations were all liberal. Evil, maybe. Certainly not biblical. Maybe they didn’t actually teach it, but that’s how I processed it. In Bible college I met strong Christians worshiping in vibrant churches that were part of
What does homelessness look like? What does poverty look like? Why don’t those people get a job? Why don’t they manage their money better? Why should my hard-earned tax dollars go to supporting them? Last month at my American Business Women Association (ABWA) meeting, I heard my friend Cheryl address these issues. Cheryl works at