Faith in Government

I am not sure who wrote this and apparently it has been circulating since Reagan was running for president. But I do love it and thought I would share. Enjoy!

--- This morning I was awoken by my alarm clock powered by electricity generated by the public power monopoly regulated by the US department of energy. I then took a shower in the clean water provided by the municipal water utility. After that, I turned on the TV to one of the FCC regulated channels to see what the National Weather Service of the National Oceanographic and Atmospheric Administration determined the weather was going to be like, using satellites designed, built, and launched by the National Aeronautics and Space Administration. I watched this while eating my breakfast of US Department of Agriculture inspected food and taking the drugs which have been determined as safe by the Food and Drug Administration.

At the appropriate time as regulated by the US Congress and kept accurate by the National Institute of Standards and Technology and the US Naval Observatory, I get into my National Highway Traffic Safety Administration approved automobile and set out to work on the roads build by the local, state, and federal departments of transportation, possibly stopping to purchase additional fuel of a quality level determined by the Environmental Protection Agency, using legal tender issed by the Federal Reserve Bank. On the way out the door I deposit any mail I have to be sent out via the US Postal Service and drop the kids off at the public school.

After spending another day not being maimed or killed at work thanks to the workplace regulations imposed by the Department of Labor and the Occupational Safety and Health Administration, enjoying another two meals which again do not kill me because of the USDA, I drive my NHTSA car back home on the DOT roads, to ny house which has not burned down in my absence because of the state and local building codes and fire marshal’s inspection, and which has not been plundered of all it’s valuables thanks to the local police department.

I then log on to the internet which was developed by the defense advanced research projects administration and post on freerepublic and Fox news forums about how SOCIALISM in medicine is BAD because the government can’t do anything right.

Make sure you add the part about W walking on water.

Recently a friend of mine called a website to my attention. It was about the Conservative Bible Project. It is about the most ridiculous thing I had ever seen. This is the entire website: http://ow.ly/t1yr

What follows is a part of the article and in parentheses are my own snarky comments.

As of 2009, there is no fully conservative translation of the Bible which satisfies the following ten guidelines:[2]

1. Framework against Liberal Bias: providing a strong framework that enables a thought-for-thought translation without corruption by liberal bias (because "liberal bias" is in everything to the extreme conservative mind.)
2. Not Emasculated: avoiding unisex, "gender inclusive" language, and other modern emasculation of Christianity (because only men are Christians. Mary, Mary Magdalene were horrible people, therefore women should not be included in the message of Jesus Christ.)
3. Not Dumbed Down: not dumbing down the reading level, or diluting the intellectual force and logic of Christianity; the NIV is written at only the 7th grade level[3] (God forbid some redneck or black man ever read the message of God.)
4. Utilize Powerful Conservative Terms: using powerful new conservative terms as they develop;[4] defective translations use the word "comrade" three times as often as "volunteer"; similarly, updating words which have a change in meaning, such as "word", "peace", and "miracle". (Because only the right can truly translate ancient Greek and Aramaic.)
5. Combat Harmful Addiction: combating addiction by using modern terms for it, such as "gamble" rather than "cast lots";[5] using modern political terms, such as "register" rather than "enroll" for the census (and this really matters?)
6. Accept the Logic of Hell: applying logic with its full force and effect, as in not denying or downplaying the very real existence of Hell or the Devil. (My liberal NIV has just as much mention of hell & the devil as the ol' KJV)
7. Express Free Market Parables; explaining the numerous economic parables with their full free-market meaning (the Bible is a book of life. For the economy check out something written by Ben Stein. Jesus was a carpenter, not an economists.)
8. Exclude Later-Inserted Liberal Passages: excluding the later-inserted liberal passages that are not authentic, such as the adulteress story (while we are being inclusive, try the book of Mary or the Gnostic Gospels.)
9. Credit Open-Mindedness of Disciples: crediting open-mindedness, often found in youngsters like the eyewitnesses Mark and John, the authors of two of the Gospels (Open Mindedness suggests liberalism. . . you might want to rethink this.)
10. Prefer Conciseness over Liberal Wordiness: preferring conciseness to the liberal style of high word-to-substance ratio; avoid compound negatives and unnecessary ambiguities; prefer concise, consistent use of the word "Lord" rather than "Jehovah" or "Yahweh" or "Lord God." (Jesus quote here: "I am." It doesn't matter if you call him Roger the Hairy Muskrat. . . God Is. You are really splitting hairs here.)

{That's it, I am done. . . for now.}

Relative Age

I am young, you are old.
My two best friends and I are of three different ages. I am 34, the one we will call "SG" is about 33 1/2 and the one we will call "CC" is newly 33. It works out like this:

MG=Oldest
SG=Older
CC=Old

And the converse is true:

MG=Young
SG=Younger
CC=Youngest

Therefore MG is Young while CC is Old. Sorry SG.

Camp Needs Us

Say the word "Camp" to any United Methodist in the North Alabama Conference and they will know instantly you mean the little 'place of rest and vision' near Gallant, Alabama. Memories immediately come to mind of the Chigger Bowl, Cabin #9, the Lake and the hike up the Mountain to the Cross and Chapel. We have memories of friends we made and will keep forever, the spiritual growth, and the 'Buttercup.' If you share these memories. . . take heart. This summer might be the last for anyone to have these experiences. Sumatanga is in a bad way financially speaking, but you can help. United Methodists and anyone who ever graced the assembly hall or lodge. . . get moving. Beg, borrow and steal (okay maybe not that last one.) Tell your congregation what is happening. They will respond. We just have to get the word out. Follow Sumatanga on Facebook, Twitter or whatever internet incarnation and get the word out and check your pockets for the cash this Institution. You know how much it means to you. I thank you, Sumatanga thanks you, and the future generations of campers thank you.

Soccer Dog

Friday night I was attending a wonderful cook-out at my sister's home. I was celebrating my nephew's 12th birthday. Among the guests were about 30 kids his age. Some of the little ones were playing with a soccer ball when a little Yorkie showed up from the neighbor's house. It (not sure if it was male or female) decided it wanted to play too and had a ball literally. Have a look:
Eventually the pup's human came to pick it up. Little guy was not too happy to leave. But had a great little time and was the life of the party.

The Little One

I have wowed you with my exploits of growing too old flower seeds. But I do have brand spankin' new plants to grow.

Namely tomatoes and peppers. I have seven pepper plants and five tomato plants. One of which is the "runt" of the "litter." I had to plant this one. It is part a Charlie Brown Christmas Tree kind of thing and part remembering my first days of gardening.
When I was little, growing up in Western Cullman County I had a great neighbor, Ocie Glover. One spring she was "thinning out" her rows of corn. She pulled six small stalks to be tossed away. Feeling sorry for the poor plants I asked if I might plant the on the side of the garden. She said "sure." I planted, weeded and tended them all summer for 10 ears of corn. The next summer I had my own three rows of garden with tomatoes. peppers, okra, watermelon and of course corn. By the end of my time there I had half the garden to myself with beans and squash added.
Back to the "runt." I think that even the smallest of plants, or people for that matter, can do great things. Let the "runts" have a chance, I do. I will keep you posted on the growth of all things, fruit, animal, vegetable and mineral.

What to do? What to do?

So summer is almost here and with that my Tuesday and Wednesday nights are empty. And I mean 'empty' not just 'open.' Tuesday's for the past several months has been devoted to Mountain Valley Singers (More on this later). I don't always like the music but I love the people who devote their time to this endeavor. And Wednesday nights have been for dinner at church, vespers and choir practice. This came to an end tonight. This begs the question, "What to do? What to do?"
We'll Matthew found some seed envelopes in the garage Tuesday. I have red poppies, something called Jump Up Johnny, Alyssum, painted daisies, a random assortment of wildflowers, baby's breath, a decorative grass and carrots (don't ask because I don't know.)




The seed packets were intended for use 3 years ago, but I thought I would give them a shot. Check back for updates on the little guys. I have also put out a few tomato plants, including one runt of a plant. I hope to update this too. No pictures yet because it was already too dark, sorry.

Thank You Mary Lynn Wilson for the Teapot.

I shall start to explain. Mary Lynn Wilson taught me Spanish in high school. I was on the Spanish scholars' bowl team. And I lived in New Mexico for about 4 years. My Spanish still sucks, but I can get in a word or two on occasion. And I have MLW ,and the clerks at my local 7/11 in Albuquerque to thank for that.
If you have been reading my blog you will know of what I am speaking. I work at a store that sells catalog returns. The story goes as such:
Little Central American woman buys weed-trimmer Saturday, returns it Thursday claiming "No trabaja." It does so "trabaja," but I can't explain that. My boss calls me to the front of the store to help, and I try. I try to explain, "Todas la ventas finales." But we do have a 7 day policy on plug-in/battery thingys. I tell her she has $24.50 to spend in the store. She searches forever to find something of the same price. After "puedo conseguir esto" after "puedo conseguir esto" and "no" as the answer, I finally am able (a buck I will gladly pay) to say "Si, eso es bueno." La Mujer leaves with a cute little teapot and I have a weed-eater that is not broken and can sell again. And she has a $100 teapot for near nothing. I need to see MLW again to make me fluent.

The Retail Diaries

Editor's Note: While there is no explicit language herein, there are allusions to the like, please read at your will.

Okay don't expect some laugh-a-minute David Sedaris opus here, but here goes:
In my early years on the workforce I was in essence a lifeguard/safety teacher/pool operator/whatever the hell else you may need guy. In retrospect, no matter what I may have said, I have indeed done some retail work outside of selling the public on watching my newscasts. My mom owned a dress store. I worked there some but never touched the register or cash register machine thing. It scared me. I folded clothes at an awesome place called Mookie's. My brother-in-law owned it and aside from the cool name it had the best clothes (Levi, Ruff Hewn, Snowshoe Thompson, Columbia.) And I even did a brief stint as a car stereo salesman (mostly I just kept the place as anally retentively neat as I could.)
So now, after several years in the television news world, I am back in retail. I am working for a man kind enough to give me a job in this economy. But this has been an unusual experience in selling goods.
I have had a plethora of experiences with "the public" in news. Such as answering the phone to callers wondering why the color is off on their TV and if I can come fix it. As we say in Central Alabama, "Godluvem." I also had the constant calls involving the antics of our traffic "reporter." And always the pleas for help beginning with "Y'all need to do a story on. . . (insert sad/mad/tragic/drunken/very drunken story here.**)" But until I rediscovered retail in this incarnation, I never knew the whole of it.
I work for a store that does catalog return sales. The stuff that people order from stores and they send back goes there. Some is broken, some was just the wrong color, other is missing something, some is overstock, and still some is just inventory from closed stores. We repair what we can and toss the rest. I hear owners of such a company get stock at what is called "dime to the dollar" AKA 10% of retail. The store to which I am currently employed sells most goods at 50% off, some even 75% off. This sounds like a great profit, but the overhead can be a killer. In the end, the shopper gets a great deal and the owner gets a little profit, and I get a paycheck.
I believe all of the store policies are very fair. No refunds (except we do allow a 7 day policy on all anything that had a battery or AC plug, toys and air conditioners excluded, otherwise we can give an exchange or store credit) everything else is as is, no returns, no refunds, all sales final. We have this posted in two languages all over the store (thanks to my Guatamalan friend who taught me a lesson in grammar.) Also posted in big red letters are our hours Mon & Tue 10am-5pm, Thur-Sat 10am-5pm, Closed Wed & Sun.
I told part of this story to a friend of mine, the aforementioned Mookie's owner, he responded with this (abbreviated) 'I never faulted a shopper for not reading signs after being at Wal-Mart and telling an employee the cap I wanted to buy did not have a price. He and I returned only see a huge sign reading: All Caps $3.99.' I will give them the inablity to read signs.
On the lack of reading ability, again I hold them not to any fault. I cannot tell you how many times I have seen people tugging on the door, "Y'all open?" I think "read the f'ing sign." Also when someone brings something to return because it has a dent. Hello?! Folks even the name of the store says we have catalog returns. . . don't expect perfection. That's why all items are 50% or more off retail. You are getting a bargain, a deal, a steal, the sale of the f'ing century.
I, as are all employees, honest about what we sell. These are catalog returns/overstock/demo models. Which I do not know for sure which in most cases. We check out everything as in plug-in (anything needed 110 volts AC and add batteries to things needing DC power.) (although batteries are not included.) And I remind customers of the 7 day policy and honestly tell them why we do it. Same goes with furniture. Most folks ask: "It's 75% off. What's wrong with it?" Yes it is 75% off, and "Let's see. looks like a little ding here." (or in most cases nothing, because the owner is a talented craftsman and can fix darn near anything.) I help the customer find the imperfection if there is one. Most understand and find a way to make it better or hide it or just don't care. It is a deal, et al. But the select few try to bargain. "It's got-uh little cut here, is $99 the lowest you can go?" My instinct wants to say, "This is a $400 table with a scratch, and you want to know if this is as low as I can go?! This ain't a yard sale. You are getting more than you deserve already!" But, I gently remind them of the generous discount and tell them that scratch is worth $300 and this is the lowest price they will find almost anywhere (save a yard sale, but probably not even there.)
I have to keep telling myself this is not a rant. More and more of the customers are very gracious. It is the few that make them all look bad. Like the fellow, who asked me "Do ya' Jew?" I wanted so bad to lie and say "Why, yes. I Jew every Sabbath at Synagogue. Shalom to you too f'face." But I took the high road, "I am sorry sir, I am not familiar with that term. I am United Methodist, not Jewish." And for the record, "the blacks," and "them Mexicins" are not our more frequent customers. It is the white meth-head redneck. They will buy anything cheap, even if it is a belt sanding pad you don't even have the belt sander it uses. Any good Guatamalan/Mexican/African American has yet to do anything so moronic. I am not demonizing white folks, hell, I'm one. Just in a place dominated by whites, more of them are bound to be stupid. Get a statistics book and read, you'll find this is true.
I do understand that the Hispanic community in the area can't read as so much as the "white folks." I struggle through my high school Spanish to explain "no refunds" often. That is for another time and another blog.
Bottom line: If you won't by retail, gamble on returns/overstock etc. But where I work the odds are in your favor.

NO RETURNS, NO REFUNDS, ALL ITEMS AS IS (save the aforementioned items)

*If you are reading this you are not a fool and you should come see me and let me sell you something.

*Ticketless

Don't always trust the "confirmation" you get when purchasing online. Make sure you call your bank too. I thought I bought tickets to the recent Ani concert at the Variety Playhouse, but oh no. I got an email confirmation but no money had been taken from my account and therefore no ticket. And if you have seen Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade, you know that no ticket is bad news. Thank God to Miss C and her willingness to get me into the show. I will forever love her for that and much more. Great friends are just well, great! And Ani was grand as well. I promised this, so thereyago.

Ding-a-lings

Since before Christmas I have been playing handbells at St. Paul United Methodist Church. We have now started on Easter music. I am impressed by my fellow ringers and their ability to play. We aren't the best on the planet but by golly we try and have fun doing it. After a few weeks off after Christmas everyone was back in the swing, or ring, of things. (Yes bad, bad pun, and intended.) Those without musical training seem to be doing better that those with it. I think the last two ringers in the line might just be getting bored with the wait between rings. We are both ADD and, "Look a chicken!" . . . wait where was I? Exactly! Hopefully we will learn more about the sounds these delicate bells are capable of besides ringing, like strumming and clinking. Just don't hit them together. That hurts me, and they might crack wide open. So far no word on when we can get the SPUMC Ding-a-lings T-shirts made in safety yellow. Until then, ring on!

Pavlovian Behavior

I was reading a joke about Pavlov and his dog. The dog, trained to salivate when a bell rings, tells another dog to watch Pavlov when he rings the bell. "That guy will smile and write on his notepad when I start to drool."
I wonder about this when watching my dog whenever I start up the ice machine in the fridge door. When she hears the noise she is like at cat with a can opener. She will come from wherever she is to wait for her piece of ice. At first I think she liked the ice, but that has changed. Now it is part of her duty to come get the ice. She will schlep across the room to get the ice. I imagine her thinking, "Damn, the fool always gets too much ice and I have to eat it. I love him and will go take care of this fool's mistake."
I love that pup.

Attention all personel, attention all personel

In just two days, tomorrow will be yesterday.
That is all.

Three of five.. sorry SG

I just had a really marvelous weekend spent with three of the most wonderful women I know. So marvelous I could not write about it Sunday night because I was too tired to even Twitter, or Tweet, I am not quite sure on the verbage or even nounage there. Anywho, back to the weekend. I left for Atlanta, ticket-less (that situation will get a separate blog, as will the whole Variety experience no matter what the act) to an Ani DiFranco show at the Varity Playhouse with my great friends LMS & CC. My travelling companion was sleepy much of the way, but good enough to keep me in tune to awakening conversation and music. I had warned LMS earlier about what might be to come. Ani concerts are often kinda of full of women living alternative lifestyles, she seemed nor shocked or even phased, so I knew she would enjoy it no matter if the room was full of Dr. Seuss' Foona-Lagoona Baboona's. Ani appeals to us all. ('cept maybe Rush Limbaugh fans, but who knows who all was there?)

Before the show LMS and I dropped by the Kroger in Edgewood in search of one thing: Ting! and we bought out all nine bottles of that carbonated, grapefruity goodness known as "a little island sunshine in a bottle."

Fast forward a few hours maybe and we arrive at the Yacht, a.k.a. the EYAC or Euclid Avenue Yacht Club. As always I meet a few new friends and remember the old ones. This was the first meeting of old friends CC and LMS. I was so tickled the two finally got to encounter one another. Around 7:00-ish CC headed down to the Variety after hearing my aforementioned predicament. She returned and told me, to my dismay, the show was sold out. But I digress, that's for a later blog. Long story short, by 8:15-ish all three of us were inside the Variety.

The opening act was Toshi Reagon. She is signed with Righteous Babe Records and is one of the most Righteous Babes this writer has ever seen. Look her up on youtube or something of that ilk. CC once met her in Atlanta and seemed to enjoy the time the two spoke about Toshi's music, and Toshi's mother's music (look her up too, Bernice Johnson Reagon or Sweet Honey in the Rock.) Toshi did a few folky/rocky/blues-y numbers. She even got the audience involved in a sing-a-long of sorts.

At this point CC had to go home. Again I will get to that in another post, but she had a stressful Sunday for which she had to be up early. Next came a bottle of water and a smoke, but just for me. . . the smoke that was.

LMS wanted to get closer to the stage and it just wouldn't happen, but later we would realize we we're close enough. Lights dim and chaos, well not real chaos, but it ensues.

It's Ani! For the first time in years since I have seen her live, it's Ani F***ing DiFranco (T-shirts are on sale at righteousbabe.com) It was almost a blur for me and I have seen her live before.* So many bouncy, happy, folksy sad, political, lovely music. Ani has tendonitis and still is one of the best rockin’ guitarist I have ever seen. She was dressed as usual in a white A-shirt and baggy brown pants, and knew how to make this crowd jump.

As much as she supported Dennis Kucinich, when Barack Obama won the nomination she was behind him all the way. So much so she wrote a song I later learned was titled "November 4th, 2008" about that historic election and what might follow. I loved the partial reprise of "Yes we can, yes we Can." At some point during the show I think I even heard LMS singing along. . . a rarity I believe.

In classic concert style, more new stuff, and more old numbers. . . all received with love from her audience and that love was sent back through Miss DiFranco though attitude, song and her on stage presence. All throughout the room were hyper fans, including yours truly.
After the show I told LMS what CC has taught me after any show at the Variety. . . get yo' arse to the bus out back! We do so. . . followed by about 50 other fans... who wait for about 15 minutes, get cold and go home.
We are now down to about 20-ish devotees. Then out comes Mister tour manager. His first words are something to the effect of; I am not trying to push you away. Just that we have a schedule, Ani has some backstage time before we leave at 1:00am (it's about 11;15 now.) Ani has tendonitis and I am warming these up for her hands now (a couple of packs for the fingers that are sore) and she has some lap time with Petah Lucia. Also, the tendons prevent autographs, and she's not into pictures. I was thinking, hand pain, giving up time with her child, Godluvher, I just want to say hi, and if I can do that, then so be it. So we wait.

After a few visits more from Mister tour manager (extremely kind fellow too) we get a few visits from Mister Variety Security man, and Mister Homeless Leave the Artist Alone man (both of who were assured by Mister Tour Manager we were all okay) our "crowd" dwindles to about 10-ish, including young, I believe, experimenting lesbians and a young aspiring artist from Savannah who moved to Nashville. We all wait in the cold some smoking cigarettes just to stay warm, others borrowing lighters just for the warmth of the flame. We all have our little conversations and learn a little about our fellow Ani fans. The a smell began to erupt. . . pee. We thought it was the liquid creeping down the asphalt underneath us from someone who decided he couldn't wait. It turns out it was probably from the tour bus. A real fan might say (and I would lie if I didn't I thought it) "That's Ani's pee." (But my thought was shortly there after was "Ughhh pee smell.") I mentioned it was a bit chilly, according to the local forecast the low was 40. . . LMS decided the best way to keep warm was dancing. To be specific, Buttercup. That's a dance they teach campers to this day to the Foundations "Build Me Up Buttercup" year after year. Some of our co-Ani-waiters even tried to learn the dance from us. . . but to no real avail. Finally the moment of truth. . . and stay tuned loyal readers. . . LMS has a brilliant idea that almost comes to fruition.

The wonderful little folk singer started walking toward the tour bus. Elation ensues from the small crowd gathered. And to top everything her has tugging on her finger a little white blond-headed little one Petah. I thought about the first time I saw Ani live in Birmingham many, many years ago. She and Andy S. at City Stages and about 12 of us in the audience. Anyway. . . All the while Petah is recognizing the tour bus in her own way. . . "Bus, bus, bus." Ani was great to see, but any child always garners an "Awwww."

After almost losing her finger to a little one wanting to get on the "bus, bus, bus" Ani takes her time to greet us all with thanks and return thanks for her taking time and the tremendous show just a few hours ago. LMS's idea of doing the Buttercup almost turned into reality until someone who took himself way, way too seriously had to share his thoughts. "Whatever freakshow, LMS said we had a dance for Ani and she said she wanted to see it." But it was not to be. And LMS and I were very respectful of the now weary artist and did not try to take any more of her time. I think we both know enough mom's and respect their time with their little ones. I hope you all might have the same consideration for others as well. Thank you.

As for the night that was it. I finally really met and talked to my favorite little folk singer and had grand company. It was late and cold for Atlanta, but it was worth it to me.

Get in the Pilot, drive to Smynings, stop at McD's for a Happy mean and sweet sleep. My host, CC, had to get up early and was as quiet as a church mouse (pun intended) while she readied herself for an important day. I slept soundly (almost) on the pull out sofa whilst LMS made her home on the futon in the guest room.

'Bout around "too dang early" the birds started chirping before sunrise. Then the upstairs pups Riley (female golden) and Hazel (male chocolate) started their daily routine of barking. So that was waking me to a point but in the end I was rested by the time my host arrived back home around noon. Time for some patio time in the lovely weather on a lazy Sunday morning.

The trio we had amassed went to a tasty little Mexican restaurant CC suggested nearby for some much needed nourishment. From there it was bye-bye to Miss C (the aformentioned CC) and back down to the Variety Playhouse 'hood of Little 5 Points. LMS and meandered around the shops in the area. I found a rockin' straw cowboy hat at Junkman's Daughter. But the real stop was at a little place known to the locals as "the Rag.

Rag-O-Rama (you can look them up on-line too) 5P's hot little consignment shop. Think Goodwill with better duds and maybe a little on acid. I sort though the jeans looking in the place where I found my two favorite pairs of jeans ever. I unfortunately locate nothing. But it is always fun to look and find the occasional NKOTB t-shirt with "Hangin' Tough" on the back. LMS is luckier than I in finding clothes to fit her taste coming out with a pair of fitting pieces of apparel.

After a quick trip through Atlanta and some trips down amnesia lane, your intrepid author is on the road home. For a deserving rest. As I believe is his travelling companion.

I may have forgotten much, but all in all it was a busy yet oddly relaxing weekend. Endless thanks to all of you who made it happen, 'specially LMS and CC, TM is very grateful. While I have had many memorable days in the South's Greatest City, this one is chalked up to one of the best. I will soon update y’all on the later posts to ‘splain some things.

And if you can find it Ting! is the best soda on the planet.

Fools, all of them.

I used to think the electoral college system we use to, in the end, elect a new president was outdated and unfair. After all, Al Gore won the popular election in 2000 and not GW Bush. To the converse perhaps, GHW Bush won the popular election in 1992 and not Bill Clinton. I was always told, for the most part, the college existed to prevent the uneducated common folk from electing say, somebody like Hitler, for President. (Although we may have come close in 2000, but I digress.) But recently I read that some 84% percent of the American public was willing to sign a petition banning dihydrogen monoxide. So for now, lets keep the electoral college just to be safe.

Climbed a Mountain

Okay this is a late post but I thought it might me time to rcall it:

I climbed a mountain today. Really! Chandler Mountain at Camp Sumtanga, a place of rest and vision. It has been years since I last scaled the natural trail (old creekbed) up to the Cross and the Chapel. I had a brilliant weekend at my old stomping grounds in Gallant, Alabama.
The weekend began with me and my traveling companion looking for a place to park at the new Sumatanga conference center and I "invented" a few new roads before finding a good place. We sang and sang some parodies at a choir retreat, then went back home only to return the next morning. (I will skip these details as they only effect a few people.) Upon returning the next morning and completing our scheduled practices, LMS and I decided to take a walk. . . a long walk up a mountain. It had rained a bit the night before and it was a slippery slide up. We hung on to trees and rocks or whatever kept us from falling on our asses. I reminded me of a few trips taken climbing up Dunn's River Falls in Jamaica, but without the bruises. (I hear frozen strawberries are good for that.) After reaching the summit we danced the much loved "Buttercup" high atop chandler mountain. After contemplating the pain of falling from the top we made our way down. Stopping by the old Pool Camp to see the "God is Nigh" sign and look at the old rooms near the assembly hall.
Several weeks later I thought about the assembly hall via a page called givebacktocamp.com. I hope those of you who lived most of their life at Sumatanga you will give back whatever you can. The group is trying to rebuild a rotting stage and light booth and audio booth. Nothing fancy I mind you. Just what Camp always had, simple. But still sturdy enough so as nobody dies. GiveBackToCamp.com Not looking for cash (although that's helpful) but time and prayers. Much thanks.
mdg