Month: April 2016

Good morning, y’all. Another gorgeous day here in the mountains. It would be hard to ask for nicer days. It is starting to warm up a bit, but it hasn’t reached my 85 degree cutoff yet. It is my general practice to not work outside after the temperatures reach the mid-eighties. I don’t look good in a hospital gown, and that would only be if the heat stroke didn’t kill me outright. Know your limits, I always say.

There is stuff to do once the heat gets out of my comfort zone. Today I went into town to the Home Depot and went shopping for some necessaries. I loaded up on weed and feed and cypress mulch. The mulch was on sale and the weed and feed was overpriced, so I guess we struck a balance by the time it was all over.

I like the way Home Depot employs their people as greeters when they’re not otherwise occupied. It is a sometimes thing, but it’s a nice touch to have someone near the front door that can tell you that chain link fencing is in aisle 11, or wherever. Without the greeter, you’re left to wander the acres of items until you happen to find what you’re looking for. I know sometimes I’ll wander so much that I suffer sensory overload from all of the stuff that I think I might need someday. Sometimes I get so overloaded with possibilities that I forget my original purpose. I’ve also been known to be standing five feet from my objective and have to ask where what I’m looking for is. Fortunately, I’ve never had a Home Depot employee act “put out” at pointing out the obvious to me. That’s a good thing. I’m generally already put out myself because I’ve had to drive to town to buy a part or tool to fix something that some nitwit broke.

If a Home Depot employee treated me discourteously I would probably lose it. Funny thing, I was already miffed when I came in the store today because some conehead had parked his truck across three parking spots. It was a good looking truck, and deserved to be protected from nicks and dings, but, the owner could have parked further from the store and not have had to worry. Instead, he somehow found three spaces close to the store, and parked across them. Some people have no social awareness it seems.

For example, there was this fellow that was talking on his cell phone at the top of his lungs while I was trying to ask the Home Depot associate if the mulch was going to still be on sale this weekend. This guy was yammering on and on about some big barbecue they were planning. I couldn’t tell if the guy was deaf, or if the person he was talking to was. Either way, me and the rest of Home Depot didn’t need to know how many people were coming, if they needed to serve beef and chicken or pork and chicken, if paper plates would be alright or if they needed to use Chinet. At least he didn’t try to speak over me to get his question answered. I believe there would have been a “clean up on aisle 4” if that had happened.

Anyway, I got what I was after and drove around to the pickup area to get my mulch. Lo and behold, there’s big mouth cell phone guy in his fine looking truck that requires three spaces to park. He was loading up on charcoal and enough preformed rock to make a monstrous fire pit. He finally got loaded and I got my turn. It was quick and easy. Heading home, I caught up with loud mouth cell phone guy at the first light on Highway 515. Well, the light changes, and there we sit. Now, I’m not one to blow my horn, so I gave him a lot of slack. When I finally tooted my horn, the fellow looked up from whatever he was doing to be just quick enough to be the last one through the light. I guess he had some Angry Birds that needed killing.

Let me just say here that while I embrace new technology, I don’t think we’ve had the required generations of training sufficient to use some things responsibly. I’m thinking this old boy’s Momma would have smacked him across the back of the head for any number of the socially unacceptable things he’s done today. Fortunately, I no longer see it as my responsibility to train those who are in desperate need of a manners lesson. Life’s too short, and there’s too many idiots with guns.

Good morning, y’all. I’m happy to report that the weather in our area has just been perfect. It’s such a relief to not be concerned about whether the Whiz O Meter is calling a perfect day with one cloud a “10”, or a chilly day with no clouds an “11”. The weather we’ve been having lately is all perfect, clouds or not.

I did notice that the weather drone announced the resounding success of their year old high temperature prediction program. By giving themselves a five degree shift, high or low, the Whiz O Meter has been 82% successful in predicting the daily temperature for the inaugural year of the program. While the weather drone nearly broke his arm patting himself on the back, he did blurt out what he considered a successful prediction program to be. “At least we’re not wrong all of the time like some folks think”. He seemed so pleased with himself that he wasn’t wrong all of the time that I thought I might send them a letter. Something like, “don’t be too proud, a stopped watch is right twice a day”. I guess I’m not being very charitable in my assessments of the Channel 11 team.

Not judging too harshly, brings us to the theme of this week’s telecast from The Full Gospel Original Church of God. This week’s sermon from the Crystal Palace was based on Matthew:7 1-3, “Judge not, lest you be judged”. It’s a good thought for all of us to keep in mind each day as we go about our daily lives. Of course if you’re in management, or ever expect to get a desired result from a group of folks, you’re going to need to judge a little. I guess the expectation of the verse is that we not judge one another to harshly in our primary relationships. At least that was I got out of the Reverend Helen Handbasket’s service.

The Reverend was once again resplendent in her accoutrement, decked out in a peach colored robe with white sash and gold trim. I think the peach robe was a nice touch, Georgia being the Peach State and all. It was also a good color to offset the Reverend’s fiery red hair. The colors from the flower arrangements complemented the Reverend’s ensemble, and came across beautifully in the high def broadcast. There was still no reveal as to how the Reverend was able to magically appear on the stage as if she xxx from thin air.

The Reverend’s movements and body language seemed to be more pronounced this service than in previous telecasts. It was like she was trying to bring some of that “old time religion” into the sermon. I actually believe I saw her thump the Bible once or twice to emphasis her points as she moved about the stage. I’m wondering if last week’s sermon had caused the Elders to try to rein in the Reverend Helena Handbasket. The Elders may have felt that the Reverend was getting to “social” and losing sight of the core values of the congregation. Hard to know what direction the Reverend is being given without being a fly on the wall in the leadership meeting. 

I, for one, hope that the Elders don’t stifle the Reverend too much, if that’s whats going on. The meteoric success of the church has come about because of the fact that the Reverend is connecting to a broader base than before. Her charisma has brought in new initiates from as far away as Columbus and Charlotte. It’s amazing to see a really big church filled to the brim for an Evangelical service. An Evangelical service that doesn’t promise a transfer of wealth from the rich to the poor like Ted Cruz’s dad delivers, but, a service that preaches the Golden Rule and admonishes us to not get “all judgey”.

I watched the testament of faith with great anticipation. I was curious to see if the Reverend Helena Handbasket was going to “up her game” by working with a timber rattler. The Right Reverend Dale E. Bread introduced a “big boy” this week in his service. It was the first time since the incident that the Right Reverend had tempted fate again. To my utter amazement, the Reverend Helena Handbasket drug what looked like a six foot rattler out of the box, and treated the rattler, and the audience, to a rather fast paced version of the Watusi. As the Reverend placed the rattler back in the box, the choir launched into “Softly and Tenderly”. The aisles were filled with people who wanted to “come home”. It looks to me like they’ve found one.

Good morning, y’all. Yesterday’s jaunt up and down and all around Tallulah Falls left me a little sore this morning. So sore, that I begged off driving into town to catch the services in person at The Full Gospel Original Church of God. It ain’t the driving that’s altering my plan, it’s the four block walk to get to the church from wherever I can find a parking space.

I guess there’s a price to pay for popularity, and in this case, it’s the fact that some of us who are less spry might choose to attend other services. Or no services at all, I guess. I’m not saying that the parking situation at the Crystal Palace is creating heathens, because there’s always the telecasts as an alternative. I’m just saying that some of the less energetic worshipers might choose to attend the “Little Church In The Valley” for a more convenient commune with their Lord. I can pull right up to the building at the old church, be inside and in my pew in less than a minute. It couldn’t be more convenient if it was a Drive-thru.

Going off track a little bit, but I wonder if anybody ever thought about the concept of a Drive-thru for religion? If not, I’d like to patent/copyright/whatever the idea. I can see for the Catholics it would work great. Obviously, it would be perfect for communion, right? You’d go to the box and order for the car, stop at the tithing window, and then proceed to pick up your order from the priest. The priest would give a blanket blessing for the car, a “go and sin no more”, and you’d be done for the week.

Confessions would be a little trickier if you didn’t want to share with the rest of the family. I’ll have to work on that some. It might be something like the bank with pneumatic tubes. Each family member could put their sins in an envelope with their name on it that would then be sent in to the “confessional”. The hearer of confessions would then open the envelopes, read the confessions and then place a penance response back in the appropriate envelope. Little Johnny might send in “I kicked the dog” in his envelope, and receive a “say ten Hail Mary’s” as his penance. I can see a wall mounted rack of penance cards color coded and graded by severity from top to bottom. The venial sins would be handled by the penance cards closer to Heaven, the mortal sins would be handled by the cards at the bottom, closer to Hell.

The confessional line could be a second drive-thru with just the one extra stop. That way the confessors wouldn’t hold up the folks receiving Communion. If tens of billions of hamburgers can be served quickly and efficiently using drive-thrus, can’t we expect “Church In A Box” to be just as successful? What’s really cool is that there is already a network of drive-thrus in almost every community already setup to handle the traffic. Chik fil A is a religious based organization that doesn’t open on Sundays. This would be a perfect marriage of functions. Before you pooh pooh my idea as pure balderdash, believe me, “Church In A Box” makes much more sense than the daiquiri drive-thrus in New Orleans.

Anyway, convenient repentance for the unabsolved is what I’m all about. To that end, I am in my usual spot to watch the Right Reverend Dale E. Bread deliver this week’s sermon on God’s watchfulness. I think the title of the sermon was,“His Eye Is On The Sparrow”. The implication being that if God has the time to watch out for something as small as a sparrow, he’s certainly watching over us. The Right Reverend tried to blend in equal parts of “God is watching out for us”, and “God is watching us”. I think he came down a little heavier on the “God is watching us”, from my perspective.

Maybe the heavier message was delivered to himself. I know that if God has as good a method for watching as the TackyToo surveillance system, He’s got the Right Reverend dead to rights on a couple of issues. I think I’m remembering right that adultery still applies if only one of the parties is married. Of course, if both parties are not married, fornication applies. I do not see a Heavenly course for the Right Reverend, if the Lord is watching.

Well, the good news is that the Right Reverend has worked a timber rattler back into the testament of faith. The rattler seemed amused by the Right Reverend’s “tap dance for Jesus”, but not so amused as to be offended. The new team member played nice and went back into his box without incident. I’m sure that the Right Reverend will tell you that sometimes prayers are answered. I know mine were when the services ended at 12 noon on the dot. I left a pork butt on the Big Green Egg that needed basting. We’ll have to get to the telecast from the Crystal Place later.

Good morning, y’all. It was such a perfect day that Mulva and I headed over to Tallulah Falls to see if they were still standing. Ha, ha. I’m happy to report that they are, and as beautiful as ever. I recommend the drive, even if it is a bit off of the beaten path.

While we were in transit we noticed a prison road crew cleaning trash from the side of the road. That’s a sight we don’t see much of here anymore. Supposedly the movie, “Cool Hand Luke” shamed prison systems all over the country into better treatment of their prisoners, and all but banned road crews. Seeing a road crew now is a rarity, and it set my mind to wondering.

Now, before we get started, I am in favor of humane treatment of prisoners. I’m in favor of humane treatment of everybody, and just because you’re serving a “time out” doesn’t give the state the right to further abuse you. I’m glad we’ve moved from the times that have been shown so graphically in movies like “Cool Hand Luke” and “Brubaker”. Selling prison labor to private concerns was a fairly routing practice at one time, and the cause of punishment that was above and beyond what was required by the state. In my mind it’s one thing to be thrown into solitary confinement for fighting with another inmate, quite a different circumstance for not making your quota in the machine shop. Since there’s been a lack of books exposing the problem recently, I’m going to say that things are better with the privatization of prison labor.

What has not gotten better, is the privatization of the prisons themselves. I just this week saw a blurb about the state of Mississippi complaining that their jails weren’t full enough, and I thought “what the heck”? I started reading assorted articles on the internet to see what the source of Mississippi’s major malfunction was. I came across this little bone chiller: “Yet while providing security, housing, food, medical care, etc., for six million Americans is a hardship for cash-strapped states, to profit-hungry corporations such as Corrections Corp of America (CCA) and GEO Group, the leaders in the partnership corrections industry, it’s a $70 billion gold mine. Thus, with an eye toward increasing its bottom line, CCA has floated a proposal to prison officials in 48 states offering to buy and manage public prisons at a substantial cost savings to the states. In exchange, and here’s the kicker, the prisons would have to contain at least 1,000 beds and states would have agree to maintain a 90 percent occupancy rate in the privately run prisons for at least 20 years. ”

Okay, so I guess numbers jump out at me more than words. The first number I see is that the “locking people up business” is worth $70 billion dollars a year in the U.S. That’s a really big business. To me it seems like it would be a business better controlled by the people who are closer to it, the taxpayers. It’s kind of like handing over a trillion dollars to Ford Motors for government vehicles and saying, “we’re happy with whatever you come up with”. To continue the Ford analogy, Ford comes back with, “the cars have to seat 10 and you have to guarantee to buy ninety percent of our production for the next twenty years”. I think all of us can see where that just doesn’t make sense fiscally.

It also doesn’t make sense ethically. It places the burden for filling the prison beds on the court system, specifically the judges. In a case where a judge might have thought house arrest was an appropriate form of punishment for a particular offender, the judge would now be obligated to fill the prison bed. After all, the bed is already paid for. We’ve already seen where two judges in Pennsylvania were convicted of receiving a commission for every juvenile they sent to a privately run youth detention center.

It seems to me that we should working towards reducing the population in prison and increasing the populations of schools and libraries. Sounds simple, I know. But, if we’ve got $70 billion dollars just laying around waiting to be spent, why not spend it on education? A well educated society would be a really good replacement for a well incarcerated society. Let’s create tax payers, not tax takers.

Good morning, y’all. A little windy, but otherwise a perfect day here in the mountains. It looks like we’re going to have dry, pleasant weather for the next few days. That’s good, because I’m a little behind on my landscaping and my Spring “honey do’s”. I’m not sure if the list gets longer each year, or if I’m slowing down. Either way, there’s a strong possibility of running out of Spring before running out of list.

I did take time out of my busy schedule to ride into Blairsville to the Walmart with Mulva. They were having a “Black Friday” sale on Azaleas, five for $20.00, so I thought I’d load up. Azaleas are just a good all purpose bush for the South. They’re fairly easy to grow, they grow fairly quick, and they flower up each Spring real nice. The fact that you can buy them real cheap is just icing on the cake for me. It’s funny that the Azaleas first cousins, the Rhododendrons are so much more expensive. It’s like the Azaleas are the poor relations of the Southern flowering bush family. Maybe that’s why I like them so much, I’m certainly the poor relation of my family.

Speaking of families, I picked a family themed movie for this week’s Date night, without realizing how family themed it was. I chose “Gone Baby Gone” from the $5.99 discount movie bin at the Walmart. I remembered seeing the previews at the Bijou back when the movie was coming out, but we never got the chance to see it. It stars Casey Affleck, little brother of Ben. Big brother Ben did the directing, which was one of the family “affairs” going on in the movie. The movie also starred Ed Harris and Amy Madigan, who are real life husband and wife. So there’s lots of family interplay before we even start talking about the movie.

As the story starts, Casey Affleck delivers a soliloquy about how the things that truly define us, are the things that we can not change. “I always believed it was the things you don’t choose that makes you who you are. Your city, your neighborhood, your family.” Where we’re born, when we are born, and who are family are, are all things we have no control over, but shape who we are. It was a nice setup to opening a story about a relatively stable couple who could not have children, but doted on their niece. The niece is the daughter of the husband’s drug addicted sister, and she has just been abducted.

As the story begins, the TV cameras show the mom pleading for the child’s return. The character of the mom is played very convincingly by Amy Ryan. The mom’s character is concerned about the child, as long as the recovery of the child doesn’t cause her any inconvenience. The aunt and uncle are not content with the pursuit of the kidnappers by the Mom, or by the police. They enlist the aid of a private detective, played by Casey Affleck, to help negotiate the seedy underworld of Boston. Casey Affleck’s character is ably assisted by his girlfriend who is played by Michelle Monaghan.

As the story unfolds, we find that the Mom’s participation in ripping off her drug dealer might have been the motivation for the kidnapping. Casey Affleck’s reconnecting with the miscreants of his youth provide the means of unraveling the tapestry that is the kidnapping. There are twists and turns aplenty and enough deviant characters to fill a banquet hall. Eventually the child is returned to her mother, but that’s not necessarily the good news. Casey Affleck returns the child to the drug addicted slutty mom at the expense of all of the good people who were lined up to help the child attain a better life, including her aunt. The moral dilemma is doing the “right thing”, when the right thing is going to eventually be the wrong thing.

If I was the Boston Chamber of Commerce, I think I’d ban Ben Affleck from setting a movie in Boston. I think he’s done three or four movies that portray Boston as the Calcutta of the Northeast. I can think of only “Good Will Hunting” to offset the negative imagery of bank robbers, kidnappers, deviants and gangsters. It’s funny that Affleck remembers Boston in such a seedy fashion. He grew up in Cambridge, the home of Harvard. Maybe there’s more going on at Harvard than meets the eye.

Good morning, y’all. It looks like Spring is finally here. The March winds seem to have waited until April, but all other indications are on track for another record rise in global temperature. I’m hoping to get all of my landscaping squared away before it gets too hot to venture out. I even made a trip to the landfill to donate some items that Mulva felt were no longer worth hanging on to. I can visualize where some things can be pressed back into service with a couple of coats of paint, or a little elbow grease. Mulva seems to not share my vision. I think she figures that when you can buy new at Walmart for the same price as repair, you should buy new. I kind of like the challenge.

Speaking of challenges, I’ve spoken many times about how “challenged” I think the folks at Channel 11 are. Yes, I’m using the word in the politically correct sense that would have previously been filled by “retarded”. I’m not sure where or when the word “retarded” got outlawed, but I’m willing to follow along with the current politically correct useage. I looked up the definition, by the way,  and it says, “less advanced in mental, physical, or social development than is usual for one’s age.” The definition sounds like exactly the word I want to use, and doesn’t seem nearly as bad as folks make it out to be. I guess it’s all about perception and point of view.

Anyway, the reason for this particular rant is a piece done by Jeff Hullinger on the sports segment of the Channel 11 news last night. He had just rightly tore into the Braves management for putting a substandard team on the field. Hullinger was doing a really good job of it. The Braves are now 0 and 9 for the season, and Hullinger suggested half price tickets and concessions might be in order. I follow his logic. If the team is only putting forth half an effort, why should the fans pay full price? It was right of Hullinger to suggest that Brave’s management might be looking forward to next year. I’m sure all of the folks in Cobb County that have invested in the new Brave’s complex are really looking forward to all of the profits generated by fans following a team that has no pulse. Hullinger was spot on, and then he lost his mind.

A little blurb line appeared across the screen about Nick Chubb, and I sat down to watch the news. If you don’t know the story, Nick Chubb is the all world running back for the University of Georgia who was on track to beat every record ever made. He was a high school legend, and promised to continue his meteoric rise right through college into the Pros. Unfortunately he was hurt, and in a gruesome manner that is rarely seen. He tore the muscles and ligaments from the back side of his knee, which is almost unheard of. Whether he would ever return was a big concern for all Georgia football fans and the fans of Nick Chubb. I say fans of Nick Chubb because he is genuinely a good man and exemplifies all of the good qualities one would look for in a person. His hard work to recover and return to the team as soon as possible is but one example. It was the results of Chubb’s rehabilitation that Hullinger wanted to talk about.

Somewhere in the midst of showing tape of Chubb practicing without his knee brace, some “challenged” person at Channel 11 decided to show clips from the movie “Forrest Gump”. The specific clip was when Forrest was running from the bullies and ran so hard he broke free of his braces. In the movie, Forrest continued to run faster than anyone and garnered a scholarship to the University of Alabama, where he was allowed to play football until his eligibility ran out.

I guess the question I’ll be asking the folks at Channel 11 in my letter to them is, “are we supposed to think Forrest Gump and Nick Chubb are similar because they are both fast runners that attend Universities in the South, or because they are both mentally challenged white boys, or all of the above? It would be great to think that the folks at Channel 11 are “color blind” and didn’t notice the comparison between a fictionalized white boy and a real black man might be a little off kilter. The comparison to a mentally challenged white boy should have set off warning lights all over the station.

I guess I can go to Forrest’s Momma for the answer, “stupid is, as stupid does”.

Good morning, y’all.The last of the sprinkles are moving through the area. It must be this hard wind that’s pushing them out. I can’t tell if the wind is coming from Canada or Texas. It’s a chilly wind, so I’ll guess it’s of a Northern nature. The winds coming from the Southwest are of a dry, “melt your brain” variety. It’s a little early for them yet, I hope. I’ve got a lot of landscaping to do before calling it a season, and once those “Santa Ana” winds from Texas arrive, I’m done.

Speaking of Summer, we got a visit from my daughter Melody and her intended Alex tonight. It seems like they’re planning on a June wedding, and we all couldn’t be happier. There are millions of details, of which I am happy to let them work out. I’m happy to be the gofer and general flunky. I just don’t see me getting involved in picking out napkins and plates and all of that stuff for the reception. It’s not that I wouldn’t give it my best shot, I just think there are a lot more people, with better taste, that could do a much better job.

The couple has decided to hold the reception in the Rec room, and I think it’s a great idea. I’m happy to decorate the Rec room in what ever theme I’m given. There’s no point in renting the American Legion hall or some other spot when we have the Rec room right here at our disposal. I don’t think the reception is going to be the issue, regardless. The wedding might be problematic, though.

Melody would like to get married at the old church, “The Little Church In The Valley”, even though they could probably fill the “Crystal Palace”. As mentioned earlier, Melody is gay, and her recent coming out was announced at the same time we were introduced to Alex, her betrothed. In our eyes, Alex was elevated from the status of roommate to “being the one”, sort of in one breath. I was kind of surprised, and kind of not, you know? As pretty as Melody is, she never had a boyfriend that stuck for any length of time. I’ve never been one to rush my kids into getting married, or having children, so I was ok with Melody taking it slow. I guess I was kind of slow in not recognizing the situation for myself, but as previously mentioned, I’ve got issues of my own to deal with.

Anyway, getting a preacher to marry the couple is not going to be our issue, I think. The Right Reverend Dale E. Bread is beholding to Mulva and I. If he had any personal reservations, I think he’d forgo them in our case. From everything I’ve seen, the Reverend Helen Handbasket would not offer any resistance to performing the ceremony. The Reverend Helen Handbasket seems to genuinely believe in “loving one another as oneself”. She has spoken out against the stupidity of the discriminatory laws being passed by various state legislatures around the South, so I think she’d be on board. In fact, she might enjoy the opportunity to practice what she preaches. No, I think the attempts to roadblock a “gay wedding” will come from the Elders.

It’s a sad thing to say that folks you’ve known all of your lifetime would throw themselves in the path of your child’s happiness. Sadly, I think the Elders would try to prevent the wedding because they felt like the wedding was going to cause some irreparable harm to the fabric of the universe or something. Even here in the mountains, we’ve come to the point that almost everyone will admit that “every family has ‘one'”. Most folks will admit that they love dear cousin Michael, “even though he never married”. It’s just that accepting gays as equals is not possible for some folks. It’s like they think that anything other than shunning and condemnation is going to make “gay” spread like the flu. In these people’s minds, if left unchecked, everybody will have it.

Well, let me just say here and now, we’re going to work this out so that my daughter has the most special day of her lifetime. Melody will get the wedding she has always dreamed of, if it harelips the Pope. So help me Bud!

Good morning, y’all. I made good use of the exceptional weather to plant the two dozen or so lilies I bought over to the Walmart. They are a variety of colors and types. I am in hopes that they will live long and prosper in the spot that I’ve placed them. I put them alongside of the dog walk in hopes that they would obscure some of the odor and sight. It will be interesting to see if the constant fertilization will provide a boom or detriment to their growth. I may setup a control group in another part of the park and keep track. It will be an interesting experiment.

Speaking of interesting experiments, how about that Republican nomination process? Now, I don’t want you to draw a too obvious connection to the offerings of a dog walk and the current front runners of the nomination process, but…  From catching the news on CNN, I find that The Donald is really, really, really upset with the party for not just laying down and anointing him President, Emperor, Pope, whatever it is he thinks the job is. Apparently the “Dump Trump” movement has pricked The Donald’s thin skin, and he feels like he needs stroking from the party to reassure his fragile ego.

It doesn’t sound like the party feels like telling The Donald that it’s going to be “all better”. In fact, Republican party chair, Reince Priebus, seems to be going out of his way to tell The Donald, “the rules are the rules”, and you knew them when you got into the race.

Let me interrupt my train of thought here for a second, has there ever been a name that smacked more of privilege than Reince Priebus? I guess the Republicans could look for someone named Lord Earl Duke to get the message across that they catered to the rich and privileged, but Reince Priebus will certainly do until Lord Earl Duke comes along.

Anyway, Reince is saying that the party rules will be upheld, and that The Donald can look for no special favors from him. Well, that flies in the face of all that is Republican doesn’t it? If being rich doesn’t buy you special favors, what’s the point in being rich? If you can’t use wealth to buy your way into whatever you want, from the Congress to the Oval Office, how will the Republican party survive? It is the big question that The Donald is exemplifying like a large boil on the neck.

The Donald has taken to the airwaves telling everyone that will listen, “the system is rigged”. Really, when did it become rigged? Was it when the Republican party wouldn’t change their rules to allow the candidate coming closest to the required 1273 delegates to automatically get the nomination? Does the rigging go back even further? Dare I bring up Gore vs. Bush? I’m sure The Donald wouldn’t find anything in that election that seemed “rigged”, unless he was Al Gore.

Poor little rich boys are always supposed to win. They don’t learn anything else. Their wealth and power starts at birth and is ensured to continue through out their lives, as if by “Divine Right”. Never having to compete on their own mettle, the rich are at a loss when their wealth can’t position them at the best table. Such is the lament of The Donald. He has shown his complete and utter lack of morals and disregard for others. He is willing to do or say anything to get the nomination, whether that causes him pause, I can’t say. If it does, it would only further exacerbate the situation. The Donald is a rich boy that has been guaranteed by life to always win, and, is morally bankrupt. How does that not automatically win you the Republican nomination? 

That is the question The Donald is asking, “why not me?” “I went down to the crossroads and I signed the deal with the devil, who looked a lot like Reince Priebus, by the way.” “Why am I not being given the nomination?” I for one, can’t wait to see if the Republican party will bow to The Donald or hitch their wagon to some, as yet unnamed, savior. Could a third party run be in the offering? Hope springs eternal. Meantime, while The Donald is asking, “why not me?”, he should ask his kids the same question. It was revealed this week they were not voting for daddy. Good on them.

Good morning, y’all. Well, the wind has died down and the temperature is back up a bit, so, I can’t complain. I took the break in miserable weather to go over to the Walmart to checkout their landscape offerings. I’m always amazed at how growers can get things to maturity and move them alive to areas where the items haven’t even sprouted yet. I know how the process works, I’ve even dabbled with greenhouses a bit myself. I’m just in awe at how the process provides the selection of flowering plants at the Walmart. Here we are in the North Georgia mountains, experiencing near freezing weather, and the lilies are blooming like the end of Spring at the Walmart. Amazing, almost miraculous.

Speaking of miraculous, I need to conclude my narrative of the dueling preachers. After attending services at the “Little Church In The Valley”, I returned back to TackyToo to continue my religious obligations. I headed back to the Rec room to watch the DVRed telecast from The Full Gospel Original Church of God. While I want to maintain my support of the Right Reverend Dale E. Bread, I also don’t want to be left out of the goings on at the Crystal Palace. The Right Reverend Dale E. Bread is like the old comfortable pair of slippers you put on at the end of the day. The Reverend Helen Handbasket is like your “high heeled sneakers”. What she brings to the show is formidable. It’s like a Las Vegas magic show, with a choir and snakes. It’s certainly the best show in this neck of the woods.

Well, I made myself a three meat sandwich with all of the fixings and settled into my easy chair in the office of the Rec room. Sandwich balanced on the left arm of the chair, and Diet Dr. Pepper balanced on the right, I was ready to get filled with the spirit. The big screen popped to life, and there we were, looking down on the Reverend Helen Handbasket. I had hoped for a televised shot of her entrance, I’m still not sure how she just “appears” on the stage. I may have to join the choir to get close enough to solve the mystery of her sudden appearance before the congregation. I hate not knowing how things work.

Well, the Reverend Helen Handbasket was dressed in a yellow robe with her customary white sash trimmed in gold. I am no fashion pate, but the yellow robe and the Reverend’s fiery red hair do not mix. When we were given the shot from the floor cameras, the Reverend looked like a yellow tulip with red stamens and pistils. A good look for a tulip, but not for an Evangelical preacher. I could almost draw a comparison to Ronald McDonald, but the Reverend’s makeup was much better. I know I’m being tacky in judging by appearance. I just think for propriety’s sake, the Reverend needs to dial it down a bit. Not Mother Superior, mind you, but not Ringling Brothers either.

While the Reverend’s appearance disappointed, her performance did not. The message was on “rendering unto Caesar”. The specific passage is Matthew 22:20-22, “Render therefore unto Caesar the things which are Caesar’s; and unto God the things that are God’s.” I don’t know if it was in anticipation of tax time, or if the Reverend was feeling the moral imperative to say something about all of these new “religious freedom” laws being enacted. Maybe it was a mash up. Folks in these parts are not known for being in support of government intervention and that goes one hundred fold when it comes to paying taxes.

About the only time folks around here feel the need for a strong government is when the government is being used to persecute folks. You know, like immigration reform, refusing service to gay people, and blowing up other countries. I think the Reverend was trying to steer the congregation down the path that separated Jesus’s teachings from constitutional amendments. In my opinion, she did a fine job of explaining how the collective that we call government is supposed to raise the standard of living for all citizens. It is the government’s job to champion for all of its citizens, just as it is the Christians imperative to love one another.

The Reverend wound it up by pointing out that when “Christians” force legislation that does not promote Jesus’s values, “they are not rendering unto God what is God’s”. I’m certain that popped open some eyes. The coup de grace was delivered when the Reverend pointed out that withholding taxes or other support of the government was not following Jesus’s teachings in Matthew 22:20-22.

The testament of faith was performed flawlessly and all of the serpents were returned to their box, no less the wear. The altar call was sparse. I’m thinking the congregation was stunned by the news that Jesus didn’t support hating, and, wanted them to pay their taxes. I won’t say they appeared to be glued to their seats, but they were certainly more interested in their own thoughts than they were in getting up and “tap dancing for Jesus”. I’m sure Mulva will get feedback from the Elders about their assessment of the service. I look forward to hearing it. 

Good morning, y’all. Absolutely feeling like Winter here. Dark clouds of the snow variety rolled in and I was fearing for the worst. Fortunately, they blew out as the day progressed and it warmed up a bit. I do not know what to make of this weather. I guess I should just be glad it’s not up in the 90’s and beyond yet. Be thankful for the small blessings, as they say.

Well, I’m counting the blessing of the Right Reverend Dale E. Bread being employed. I decided to take a turn this week to catch the show at “The Little Church In The Valley”, as opposed to driving into town. The new location of the Full Gospel Original Church of God doesn’t need my support as much as the old location does. Certainly the Reverend Helen Handbasket doesn’t need my patronage. She’s kind of become the Elton John of the Evangelical set. She is “number one with a bullet”, as they say in the recording industry. Her souls saved to sinners ratio has got to be off the charts.

In fact, I do wonder if there is a chance that the Reverend Helen Handbasket might get called up to the “bigs” as they say in professional sports. Currently, I think there are only two or three larger Evangelical churches in the country than the Crystal Palace. Certainly all of them have bigger TV markets. I’m sure that local restrictions in big cities like Dallas and Houston and Charlotte don’t allow for the handling of serpents. Objectively, I don’t know that the testament of faith as performed by the Reverend Helen Handbasket is her strongest job qualification. She does need to keep her skills up to speed, though. You never know when some community will just go completely off their nut and vote in a concession to religious zealots that goes contrary to common sense and the public good. It happens.

Anyway, I felt the need to be counted in attendance at the “The Little Church In The Valley”. I feel I need to show my support for continuing to pay the Right Reverend Dale E. Bread a salary. He is caught up on his rent now, and I’d like to maintain the trend. In truth, the attendance is about half of what it used to be at the little church, and I don’t want the Elders to consider closing the church. I’d say the congregation consists of the diehards who won’t go into town, the folks who are watching for a repeat of the Right Reverend’s famous incident, and me. Also there are those who are romantically linked to the Right Reverend, and I’d just put a guess on those by gender and age group. I’d say the age span is from 18 to 55, but it could slip a little in either direction. The Right Reverend does not surprise me as much as he used to.

Well, we had a good turn out, and the Right Reverend did a fine job of delivering his message of “Love Thy Neighbor As Thyself”. It is a good theme for me. In fact, I don’t know that anybody ever needs to preach anything else, but I know they will. Churches sure enough would go broke if week after week they just taught the Golden Rule. It would be like the preacher standing up behind the pulpit saying, “that’s it, that’s all I’ve got”. Well we know that would last about three weeks, even for the most repentant sinner. Churches are competing with every form of distraction you can think of, including laziness. When you slip over into competing with professional football you get into really dangerous ground.

Most men can be corralled into attending a Sunday service if it doesn’t go past noon. We’re willing to forego a few minutes of in depth analysis by NFL retirees for the potential salvage of our immortal souls. If the service starts slipping towards kickoff, all bets are off. Fortunately, the Right Reverend knows his audience, and he has slipped the last serpent back in the box by twelve noon. I don’t know how folks that celebrate their Sabbath on Saturday could get through the college football season. I don’t think there’s a male in these parts that would darken the doors of a church if he thought there was any chance he’d missed kickoff.  There’s religion and worship, it’s important to know the difference.

Anyway, the Right Reverend set us free and I headed back to TackyToo to catch the Reverend Helen Handbasket on the DVR. She was in fine form. We’ll talk about it later.