Good morning, y’all. Let it rain, let it rain, let it rain. Our plants need it, and our lakes need it. It won’t be long before people will be scraping the barnacles off of their boats and heading to the lakes for some recreation. Water-skiing is not as much fun when you’re dodging tree limbs because the Army Corps of Engineers gave all of our water to the folks in Alabama and Florida.
I guess somebody could rethink our policy of just flooding an area when they build a lake. It’s always been unnerving to me to see the remnants of what was once there, revealed when the water recedes too much. I can remember seeing the picture of a church steeple exposed when the water got too low. I guess clear cutting the area, and removing all of the structures was deemed too expensive. It’s sad.
Speaking of church steeples, I’m thinking the steeple on top of the “Little Church In the Valley” must have been spinning on Sunday. The Evangelical congregation has been witness to some mighty strange and unusual events over the years, but I don’t know that we’ve ever had a circumstance like this Sunday. When little Devin Bread picked up the sermon from his dad, the Right Reverend Dale E. Bread, the entire congregation’s jaws fell slack, as if one. I’m sure there were others, besides myself, in the congregation that wondered if it was a staged event. I’m equally sure that there were those in attendance who believed they were watching the Second Coming. To their credit, the Breads, father and son, played the event as coolly and calmly as two seasoned Broadway performers.
At the end of the sermon, little Devin made the altar call and headed down to the floor of the auditorium in front of the pulpit. Bubba Hoakum seemed to have regained his senses, or maybe it was just an involuntary response like breathing. Either way, his deep bass voice boomed out, “Love Lifted Me”, and the rafters of the church shook with the reverberations of his voice. Maybe Bubba hadn’t ciphered yet that there now appeared to be another Bread between him and his rightful inheritance, his legacy. Bubba’s call to preach where his father, grandfather and great grandfather had preached was now being blocked by an eight-year-old. Not to mention Devin’s daddy, if the Right Reverend ever regained his senses.
Well, little Devin did his “Tap Dance for Jesus” with as much grace and style as you could ever imagine an eight-year-old to possess. The spirit filled dance included moves from early Michael Jackson and the character ReRun from the TV show “That’s My Momma”. I guess I’ll have to bear some responsibility for that. I added the Nickelodeon package to TackyToo‘s cable package. I figured if the kids could watch wholesome shows in their trailer, they’d leave the big screen in the Rec room to the adults. Now the congregation was watching the law of unintended consequences bust a move in front of the largely septugenarian audience.
While many in the audience felt compelled to move forward, I held back. Being one of “little faith”, I wanted to be close to the door in case the next act didn’t go according to plan. I won’t say I’m afraid of snakes, but, I respect them tremendously. I shouldn’t have worried. Little Devin reached into the box and went for the big boy first thing. Out he comes with the six foot timber rattler, which is taller than Devin. No mind, Devin wrapped the snake around his neck, he tied it in a knot around his waist like a belt, he grabbed the snake by the tail and whipped it around on the floor like he was stirring sugar into his ice tea.
Of course I’m thinking “ringer”. I figure they’ve substituted the real rattler with a very real looking rubber substitute, or the snake has been loaded up on sleeping pills. About the time I get ready to slip out and report to Mulva that there is chicanery afoot at the “Little Church In the Valley”, one of the Elders in attendance reaches for the snake. Elder Diggum, lifelong church member and part-owner of the funeral home, “Diggum and Fergettum”, should credit his lifetime of clean living with giving him the quick reactions that avoided a tragedy. The timber rattler took a lightning like snap at Elder Diggum’s face as Elder Diggum tried to relieve Little Devin from the serpent. The snake opened his mouth so wide I could see his tonsils from my spot in the third row.
Well, we’ve certainly answered the question about whether the rattler is a ringer or not to my satisfaction. There are a ton of other unanswered questions, but I know I’m not going to get to the bottom of them today. Discretion being the better part of valor, I decide to slip away before the scene in front of the altar devolves into something out of the movie, “The Wicker Man”. I glance back over my shoulder as I go out the door and see that the Right Reverend Dale E. Bread has not moved an inch from his spot behind the pulpit. If he is truly catatonic, somebody will call the EMT’s, I guess. Of course, at this point, I’d say all the Right Reverend needs is for Littler Devin to lay hands on him.
I can’t wait to get back home to the DVR to see what the Reverend Helena Handbasket has served up this week. This is like the best “Battle of the Bands”, ever.