Stylin'

I got a haircut on Saturday. I showed up at church yesterday with the shortest hair I’ve had in years, maybe ever. I thought you might like to read some unsolicited comments I received from our church people.

You look younger the other way. Who gave you that butch? It looked like a Mohawk from the side. Your summer haircut. You had an appointment with a barber. I didn’t recognize you. Looks good. Looks hip. Stylin’. You got every hair cut. Two cuts for one price. I thought you got drafted. Takes 10 years off your life. Makes you look older. No curling iron needed on that doo. You found a barber. The lawn mower got loose. What happened to you?

The most memorable remark came from my grandson Caleb (age 12). “Grandpa, you needed a haircut. I was getting tired of your puffed-up hair. Grandpa, do you know why television preachers like fluffy hair? Because it gives them a place to stick their money.” Ouch.

Don't Die Again

Last night Ian (age 3) and Lilly Ruth (age 1) shared a hot cross bun at supper. After Nathan and Rebekah explained the significance of the cross, Ian ended his blessing with these words, “I remind you of the cross that you died on, and that’s sadly. And don’t do that again, okay, God?” Speaking of Ian, he will turn 4 next week. Sam will turn 10 the same day.

This afternoon I plan to head over to Greenlawn East for Ruth Shook’s viewing. She was a member of Second for 65 years. She and Bill were wed in our World War I building in January 1948. While visiting at their house the other day, I saw their wedding picture. They were standing in front of our current Lord’s Supper table. It’s a historic photo in more ways than one.

Pray for Ben as he preaches all three services this morning. I and everyone else will be blessed. Enjoy a safe, restful Family Night at Home this evening.

Humor helps. Retiree answers. How many days in a week? 6 Saturdays, 1 Sunday. When is bedtime? 3 hours after I fall asleep on the couch. Why is it okay to call you a senior citizen? 10% discount. What do you consider formal attire? Tied shoes. What do you call someone who refused to retire? NUTS!

The Amnesia Diet

Ruth and I slipped away for an overnighter to celebrate our anniversary. We went to a restaurant, ordered a nice meal, and ended up discovering a new weight loss idea. Trying to be careful, we put a lot of the meal in a to-go box. Back at the hotel, Ruth asked, “Where’s the leftover food?” “I thought you had it.” There you have it!! A new weight-loss idea. Fill a to-go box full and leave it at the restaurant.

I called Bob Roberts to say I was sorry this morning’s rain spoiled our church’s plans to work at our Victory Garden. Oh ye of little faith!! There were 18 hardy souls out there working in the mud and slush and you-know-what. Unbelievable.

I’m at church right now getting ready for tomorrow. I’ll be present, but Ben Pilgreen will preach all three services in the morning. I plan to take a few days off next week over Spring Break. I need the rest. Thanks for praying.

Humor helps. We mathematicians love math jokes. Ratio of an igloo’s circumference to its diameter: Eskimo Pi. A Won-ton is 2000 pounds of Chinese soup. The weight an evangelist carries with God: one billigram (think about it). 1000 aches and pains: one megahurtz. 365.25 days equals one unicycle.

Wed 38 Years

Ruth and I wed 38 years ago today. Our marriage truly is as good in private as it appears to be in public. We feel we were made for each other. I love her. I often tell her, “Ruth, I love you more today than I did yesterday, and yesterday was a record day.”

Yesterday afternoon Caleb started out the back door. I asked where he was going. “To bathe the dogs,” was his reply. Did he say to “bathe the dogs”? Do dogs get bathed? Doesn’t rainfall take care of that need? A few minutes later I saw Jake and Millie sunning themselves. They looked like shabby, mangy mutts that had accidentally stuck their paws in an electrical outlet. Oh well, at least we know that now they are clean Millie won’t return to her favorite resting spot in the dirt beneath the trampoline, and Jake won’t shed any more. Did I mention they have begun to shed hair again? Good grief.

Humor helps. Definitions. Coffee: the person upon whom one coughs. Flabbergasted: appalled by discovering how much weight one has gained. Intaxication: euphoria at getting a tax refund, which lasts until you realize it was your money to start with. Unanswerable: if Jimmy cracks corn and no one cares, why is there a song about him?

Ben-Hur

I’ve been working on Ben-Hur this morning. Ben What!?! That’s right. Ben-Hur. As part of our Easter preaching emphasis, I’m going to focus on who Jesus is. To complement this theme, Second Act will present the stage version of General Lew Wallace’s famous novel, Ben-Hur, on Sunday night April 26. The story fictionally chronicles Wallace’s personal pilgrimage in his efforts to understand Jesus.

I try not to write about news items, but a Fox News article caught my eye. It listed the ten worst inventions of the past century. Three especially fascinated me.

One was the detachable dog sack. It would keep dog hairs out of my car by letting Jake and Millie ride outside it in a pouch attached with rubber-padded hooks to the open window of my vehicle. Wow. I wonder why that idea never went over well.

A second idea of idiocy was the cat wig. That’s right. A wig for felines. I saw a picture of a cat wearing one. It’s one of the ugliest sights I’ve ever seen.

Number three was my favorite. An anti-eating face mask, a metal cage that attaches to the face to keep those of us lacking self-control from eating solid food.

Quasquicentennial

All three grandsons were at the house overnight Monday. We slept well, but all of us woke up wired and alive before 7 a.m. Tuesday morning. We had already had a wild and crazy day before we ever left the house. What a hootenanny. (There’s a word no one uses any more. Try looking it up. Hint: Google is your best bet.)

I just arrived in the office after having my six-month stress echo running on the treadmill test. I did way better than does the average person my age, including both heart patients and non-heart patients. Hurray for me.

Quasquicentennial. I’ve not yet found anyone who has ever heard the term before. I love to pull stuff like this on people. I have done more research on the derivation of the term. Quasqui is Latin for one and a fourth. Thus, if it precedes centennial, it refers to the number 125. Mathematicians, wordsmiths, lexiconographers (Google it), and linguists love this type of info. Someone suggested we put the word on our church sign for people to ponder as they drive by.

Humor helps. A letter to the bank. Dear Sirs, one of my checks was returned marked “insufficient funds.” In view of current developments in the banking industry, does that refer to me or to you?

Seen A Black Cat Lately?

Friday the thirteenth. I’ve never been superstitious. However, I do knock on wood for good luck (just kidding). I was given a rabbit’s foot one time for good luck. I wondered, if it brings good luck, what went wrong with the poor rabbit that had four of them? I was told a broken mirror brings seven years of bad luck, but throwing a handful of salt over my left (or right?) shoulder brings seven years of good luck. Thus, these two neutralize each other.

I do think it is bad luck to walk under a ladder if there is an open can of paint on it. I don’t step on sidewalk cracks; this keeps me from breaking my mother’s back. Mom is grateful. Yes, superstition is silly. But just in case, I’m right now knocking on wood (just kidding).

Tomorrow morning I offer the dedicatory prayer at the Victory Garden our church members will soon plant. Thanks to the Campbell family for letting this prime piece of dirt be used to help feed people going through a hard time in the economic climate we find ourselves in. When the land was plowed, only one rock was turned up–nothing short of an Ozark miracle. I take it as a harbinger of good things to come. Is that superstitious?