The Muse is Loose

As I did my morning walk and listened to Tom Linn and KLUX I heard him say there was a fifty per- cent chance of rain today. I had plenty of time to think about that. Fifty per-cent goes both directions. Which half will come our way?

Percentages are just that and nothing more. A person playing Russian roulette with a six shooter has a twenty-per cent chance of disaster if he/she tries it one time. Is that good enough odds to do such an act of stupidity? I don't think so.

Ted Williams was one of the best hitters ever to play baseball. His batting average, above 400 for a season, is still an all-time record. We say "that is incredible", and it is. On the other hand, it says that he made an out more often than he got a hit, which doesn't sound as great. It all depends on how you look at percentages.

We live in a percentage world. They dominate in money issues as well as health. From the athletic field to the cotton field we are interested in this strange call of percentages.

So are there some that are a sure thing? Yes. The Book gives some startling percentages. It tells us Jesus was and is the Son of God. That is 100%. It reminds us God created this world, and we were the Crown of His creation. 100%. It tells us through belief in Christ as His Son and as Savior gives us unearned eternal life. 100%. Let's go with the best percentages! I have to run check the car windows. I just heard it THUNDER!

I came home from church in Taft. The TV was on ABC. I knew Ann had been watching "Wheel of Fortune". She had just left it on. Some three-hour program was playing. I was on the phone but was watching the words spelled out across the screen. A "rock" singing and playing group were making their noise...I could not believe the words that came out. I copied some of them down. Here is what they sang: "I'm your Rock and Roll Jesus. Testify. Get down on your knees. We're all sex and drugs and I practice what I preach". This was repeated over and over. This nauseous piece was followed by some thing where there was a feeble effort to wave flags as they sang. I do not know the group...they were pitiful. Their message being sent out was disgusting. At the same time thousands of Border Patrol and Military are making an attempt to slow down the tons of dope coming across the border to supply guys like the ones singing...and many of their listeners.

Country music like I enjoyed years ago is gone. The hard- rock bunch moved over where the money is and are cashing in with their trash. Some so-called Christian music has some of the same sounds. The words are better, but the music is what grabs young people. We had best be careful or this stuff will come right in and sit down on the first pew.

I supplied a few years ago at a Baptist church in our area. They had a loud band playing during the song service. Finally, when the group finished and I got up to preach they all left the stage and went out the side door. They had NOT been there for an earlier service. They had simply done "their thing" and they were out of there. I was really upset by that discourtesy and ignorance on their part of what the music is for at church. Just an old guy griping? Maybe, but it is much more than that when Jesus is mocked and drugs are promoted on ABC.

It isn't really snow, of course, but looks a bit like it melting along the roadways in areas near gins and cotton fields. It is cotton. At places there are solid stacks of the white stuff along the roadways. It is a sign that the last of our summer crops are clearing the fields. First is the grain followed by cotton. By Labor Day most of the cotton is either in stacks covered with colored tarps or it is sitting in rows near a gin. I haven't heard the results but think the crops were good this year. None too soon after two disasterous years in a row.

Windfarms are kicking in, with their giant blades slowing turning and supplying current to some far away places. As I drive toward Taft the towers get in alignment and make it appear that two windmills are tangled with each other. Others stand aloof and alone, it appears. This is all a strange new portrait on what used to be level fields of blackland soil.

Some chose to leave their farms as it always had been, refusing the generous offers of leasing land and building roads in some of the best soil in the country. I salute those who did not go for the extra dollars so generously offered. Time will tell who made the wisest decisions. I do know this, the countryside view is forever changed.

Taft has had as their slogan, "The Friendliest Cotton Pickin' Town In Texas". I know that fitted when we made our home there in the sixties, and again in the eighties and nineties. I am not so sure today. I do know there are some wonderful folks living there. I am still the interim pastor at First Baptist. I hope soon they will find a man to lead them to the next phase of their life as a church.In the meantime I am blessed to be a part of Taft a little each week.

Friday evening Laura Duprie and I attended the first game of the season in Midlothian. This school has just been moved up to FIVE- A. They played Grapevine, a two-time state champion, in earlier years. Midlothian lost 30-27 in overtime.

We were fed in the VIP boxes high above this beautiful stadium. It was coach's families night. They were playing on their new artificial turf. Thursday evening Dempsey's freshman team was the first to play on it. A huge screen is on one end of the field with a giant scoreboard. More than 5,000 people were there.

Saturday evening at the University of Texas stadium in Austin, Lake Travis, and Westlake, squared off in a season opener. Lake Travis hasn't lost in three years. Their quarterback from last year is now the UT starter. Ann has a great- nephew, Turney Maurer, who is starting wingback for the team. They came from behind and beat Westlake. There were 30,000 at the game!

Dallas's billion dollar home for the Cowboys apparently needs a few players who can play the game like they are hungry and want to win. They have been talking about Super Bowl sixteen games too soon.

It will be interesting to watch and see what unfolds or folds up.

Out of New Hartford, N.Y. comes a story saying police reported a woman had a sneezing fit that caused her to drive off the road and plow into some trees and a fence. It happened to Mary Jane Amelio, a sixty-two year old woman. She was taken to the hospital in fair condition with injuries to her head, back, neck, and leg. To add insult to injury the police ticketed the poor woman for failure to keep right.

Apparently the men in blue have never dealt with allergies. They give little warning. The nose begins to burn a bit then it strikes. Food and spray can go everywhere. The eyes close involuntarily. One sneeze follows another. I had TEN in a row on one occasion this week-end. I was not driving at the time, but could have been. This is something fairly new for me in the world of allergies.

Were I there in New Hartford I would go with Mary Jane to help her contest that ticket, that is, when she gets out of the hospital. This can be a rather serious problem, certainly nothing to sneeze at.

Here is the bizarre story of the week: A woman known for hoarding was found dead this week crushed beneath her collected junk that was so impassable even police dogs could not penetrate it. She had been missing four months! Her husband found her under a floor to ceiling pile of collected trash,clothing,knickknacks and other junk.

Strong odors hindered the search that was attempted several times! They lived in a desert-front cul-de-sac near the Las Vegas strip. Her husband Bill had no idea she was there in the same house. They had been searching the desert for her when she could not be found in the house. Have you EVER heard of something more weird? She was a hoarder. The worst kind. Billie Jean was a pack-rat. It was like her accumulated junk finally turned on her and cried out "enough!!". I also wonder about Bill. How could he stand that aroma?

Sneezers and hoarders face special dangers.

It is August 26 and Ann's birthday. This is number seventy-five and counting. She is already out of bed and getting ready to travel. We plan to go to Midlothian and see family. Lee hopes to come over. Jeanne Warren and Charlie are coming. Monna Miller. That is the kind of birthday Ann enjoys. I am not looking forward to the 300 mile drive but will endure it.

Plans are to be back late Saturday so I can meet my responsibility at Taft on Sunday. We are on the road again. "Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday, Dear Ann. Happy birthday to you! (And many more)"

For aspiring pilots there comes a day when you solo. You get in and take off , fly, and land, with no instructor by your side. Soloing has to be a bit nerve-testing. I have only soloed once. I was a college student at Ouachita. A friend told me he had a plane rented for a half-hour. Would I like to go up with him> I had never been in a plane of any kind so I told him "sure". I met him at the local airport in Arkadelphia, Arkansas. They had a little Piper Cub-type plane already out on the runway.
We went to the plane and strapped ourselves in. After warming the engines he taxied to the end of the runway and took off. It was fun! We circled around the area and even over the campus. Thirty minutes can go by quickly and they were expensive minutes, so we prepared to land. I casually asked Jim how long he had been flying. He casually informed me this was his first time without an instructor! I was on his solo flight! That meant he had never landed an airplane on his own, but we were getting ready for that to happen. Fright took over. I couldn't believe I had volunteered to go on Jim's solo flight. After bouncing real good he got the plane on the runway and I deplaned, shaky but in one piece.

It is a good idea to check with any pilot who offers you a ride to see if he has ever done this before.

It began innocently enough in the middle of the day yesterday. A little message appeared giving warning that we had been invaded. It wouldn't go away. Soon other red-colored little imps joined it, gleefully dancing all over the screen shouting computer profanities. I made a brave move. I called Ann. She can sometimes bring computer back to normalcy. It was no use. It had been invaded by the devils of megabyte land. They were loving it.It was frightening to me.

An earlier formula given us by Dwight the computer guru was some help. It seemed, however, to anger the machine that we were seeking to cleanse it. Finally, in desperation, we called the Houston Holy Man. With incantations and patience the machine was brought under control late last evening. I was afraid to touch it this morning. Ann bravely gave it a try. At this moment all seems to be under control.

It is amazing how something completely under control can quickly become uncontrollable. It can happen with a vehicle, boat, fire, appetite, or temper. It seems all the imps of hell move in to destroy. .

Watch that innocent-looking little piece of equipment on your desk. It will turn on you like a wild bear. Ours did yesterday. ("Settle down, imp!")

It's an early Monday morning so I am not capable of anything very inspiring or normal. So this is what I have in mind: The world's all-time largest omelet. First of all, we need a pan: Let's just take the top off of one of those huge refinery tanks. Get some diesel burners to heat this pan. Now we need cooking oil. There is plenty available along the shores of Mississippi and Louisiana. It will be perfect for this project. Get a couples of tons of salt and dump in the oil. Stir the oil and salt with an air-boat motor suspended by a crane over the pot. (Got the picture)

Now it is time for the eggs. Where in the world will we get enough eggs? No problem! Send refrigerated trucks to Wright County Egg and Hillandale Farms in Iowa. They will gladly donate the eggs. You see they just recalled more than FIVE HUNDRED MILLION eggs because of possible salmonella poisonings experienced by several hundred persons. Dump those half billion eggs in that fresh oil and stoke the fire! There you have it! A Guiness record omelet never to be broken!

We go from the biggest oil spill in history to the biggest egg recall. We are doing nothing half-way in this country right now. If that didn't make you hungry for a good omelet this morning, nothing will. I am heading for HEB right now. We are OUT of eggs.

This time of year we Gulf Coast residents check the tropics daily to see what depression might be threatening to become a tropical storm or hurricane. They are quiet right now. One depression is weakening. No storms? No so!

First of all, dangerous, oppressive, heat is bearing down on Texas and other places. While some are burning flood waters are churning. Folks are having record floods and rain. It is happening, not out in the gulf, but in our own backyards.

Do you remember the oil leaks in your life you were most concerned about? They were not in the Gulf and BP created. They were under your vehicle. An oil leak usually spelled trouble and lots of money to repair an engine. I remember carrying spare quarts of oil in the back of my old car for the engine and transmission. I knew the inevitable was coming.

A picture of our travel in life? I think so. As we get older the machine starts to develop problems. We hope to stave them off as best we can with pills and diet and exercise. Some of that will work for awhile, but we know the truth....there will be a major breakdown and the towing truck will put that old crate away.

What do we do? Order a NEW ONE before it happens. Pick out all the options. Make a down payment, then set back and enjoy each day this old vehicle decides to start and putter out in life.