Saturday was Tabitha's 16th birthday.  To celebrate, we went with family (Ben, Isabel, Savannah, Elizabeth, Abigail, Grandma, Me, Margaret, and, oh yeah, Tabitha) and friends (Ashley and her sister, Racquel) to the Country Dinner Playhouse  up in Denver to see "Oklahoma."  I had never been to this venue, and was skeptical as to what the quality of the performance would be.  A small stage "in the round" just did not seem conducive to support such a major production and I worried that the price would not be a good value.

I was wrong.  I was very surprised at how professionally done it was.  It was a very excellent performance by professional singer/actors.  The performance of Lorie's dream sequence was really great.  Margaret didn't think the performance of "Poor Jud" was all that spectacular, but I liked it.  "Poor Jud is daid, Poor Jud Fry is daid..."

I cannot make a real intelligent comment about the food because I had to keep going out to get things people forgot and then talking to everybody I just didn't dig right in.  The apple pie was definitely not worth the price, however.  The Sundaes looked good, though.

I would absolutely go again and plan to go see their production of "Man of La Mancha" as soon as it's out.  I would consider the price as that of going to a good play, which it was, that has food, too.

Anyway, that was good and it was something fun for Tab since we couldn't work out the rafting thing.  She had too much fun this week anyway.  Ashley had out of town guests (Mandy and Serena [Don't know if she has a blog], that I got to meet) for the Heritage conference and Tabitha stayed with them all week.  If you know Ashley then you know that they stayed up and talked and talked and talked some more.  So, Tabitha is going to work this morning so she can get some rest, haha.

The conference was great, but it would be too much to try to describe here.  Tapes and CDs are available.

On the Tuesday evening before the conference starts they have a get together at the Flying W Ranch.  I love the Flying W and we go out there as often as possible.  They change the show enough to make it worthwhile going again and again but leave enough stuff the same so it is all familiar.  The shops are located in authentic historic buildings.  The schoolhouse was purchased from someone on the plains and each log was numbered as it was dismantled and the rebuilt exactly as it was in the 1800's.

Remember, The Good Book says; enjoy life while you can, because you never know what's gonna happen.

Every Year our church hosts a large youth conference called "Heritage."  One of its purposes is to help the young people learn about and recall the roots of Pentecostalism in the USA and understand the things that we believe and teach.  Actually, many churches believed and taught the same or similar things up until about the 1960's.  If people of dissimilar sects had different ideas, they could take you to the good old King James Version of the Bible and have a spirited discussion.  Every "churchy" person actually read the Book.  At this conference there are both spiritual and practical day-to-day living taught.

Of course they are all so spiritually minded that they won't even notice that there are members of the opposite sex there to meet and talk to.  Lol.  This year, from Wednesday to Saturday, well, Friday night, our church will host 1200+ out of town visitors.

If you have never been to a Pentecostal church, you should treat yourself.  You will probably have to go a minimum of 3 - 5 times.  The first couple of times will be to just watch everything that's going on and try to figure it out.  Meet some of the people and ask them what's going on.

Seems like everybody nowadays likes to use the label, "Pentecostal" but the real Pentecostals, the ones who started out on "the wrong side of the tracks," the "Holy Rollers" are still around.  There are still people who try to practice what the Ancient Apostles taught in the first century.  Called by some, "Primitive Pentecostalism" these folks still preach that in order to come to God you must follow the plan laid out in the scripture by Jesus and the first preachers.

These preachers taught that the death, burial and resurrection of Jesus Christ were the way to be saved and go to an eternal home in Heaven to with him.  They taught that if you did not do this, and your life did not change, you went to an eternal Hell that burns with fire and sulfur and never goes out.  I will outline their doctrines only briefly because this format is not necessarily conducive to a good, intelligent discussion but you have to understand some of these things in order to make sense out of the story I want to tell you, which is probably shorter than this introduction.

They taught that you must repent of your sins, which means that you are not only sorry for them but will also do everything you can humanly do not to do them anymore because you don't want to do them.  You want to be over with the old ways you had.  You nail your sins to the cross he died on, thus fulfilling his death.

We are buried with him in baptism in his name.  The only way anyone in the Bible was ever baptized was by total immersion in water and having the name of Jesus invoked over them.  The triune baptism so common nowadays is taken from a misunderstanding of what is referred to as "The Great Commission."  This was done for the remission of sins.  Sins were forgiven and lives were changed by a true repentance experience, but baptism washes sins away forever, burying them under the blood of Jesus.

One of the teachings they had that is often misunderstood concerns the baptism of the Holy Ghost or Holy Spirit.  I use the King James and it is called the Holy Ghost there.  Either term is accurate.  When you receive the Spirit, the initial evidence is speaking with other tongues "...As the Spirit [gives] utterance."  You would do well to read the book of the Acts of the Apostles for yourself to reinforce this point by the examples there.  This is what happened to me 30 years ago when I was a worthless, suicidally depressed, young punk of 15.  This is what Jesus told his disciples to go into the world and teach and preach to every nation, this "Born Again" experience.

As a Sunday school teacher, it is my mission in life to teach this to children and help them experience it.  If you have ever been in a Pentecostal church on a Sunday night then you know that the term "quiet as a church" is not applicable.  Many times, especially in the past, when being a Pentecostal meant being a "Holy Roller" from "the wrong side of the tracks" the accusation was made that it was all emotional hype and even "gibberish."

Many of my Sunday school kids come from a large variety of cultures and every possible combination you can think of.  My one buddy is a mix of Japanese, Hispanic, Black and White.  One of my little friends is from a home where the mom is white and the dad is Mexican.  The boy and his mother speak both Spanish and English.  I, on the other hand, have never learned any other language.

Sunday night service at First Pentecostal Church (at the corner of Hancock and Monica here in Colorado Springs) you will find people shouting, dancing, running the aisles and, yes, we even have real Holy Rollers who roll on the floor.  Much prayer and worship is often going up and this service was no exception.  Folks was gettin' with it.  I asked one of my many favorite students, Manny, if he wanted to pray.  He did.  We had preachers coming and praying and his mom there praying with him and me praying with him and everyone encouraging him as he sought God in his life.  When you are 7 you don't have very many sins to repent of (well, to you, you do, of course) and can quickly get on with seeking the baptism of the Spirit, which is God's free gift to all believers.  When Pentecostals pray it is "with the spirit and with the understanding also" and is boisterous and exuberant.  It wasn't too long before my little buddy was speaking with other tongues as the Spirit gave him utterance.

A couple weeks after he was baptized in Jesus' name, I was talking to him and his mom.  They were all smiles and then they asked me if I knew what I was saying when I spoke in tongues, particularly the night I was praying with Manny.  Well, no, usually the "unknown" part of the phrase, "unknown tongue" means you don't know.

"We did," they said as the hair on the back of my neck started to stand up and goose bumps ran all over me, "You were speaking fluent Spanish.  You said, 'God, give this child the Holy Ghost right now' and many other things including prophecies about what Manny was going to do."

I swallowed.  All I could think of to say was, "Wow!  That's a miracle.  Manny, I guess the Holy Ghost wanted to tell you something."  It is one thing to read the second chapter of Acts.  It is a totally different thing to experience it.

The Good Book says, "...They of the circumcision which believed were astonished, as many as came with Peter, because that on the Gentiles also was poured out the gift of the Holy Ghost.  For they heard them speak with tongues, and magnify God.  Then answered Peter, Can any man forbid water, that these should not be baptized, which have received the Holy Ghost as well as we?  And he commanded them to be baptized in the name of the Lord..."

NEVER give a pet to a child without getting permission from the kid's parents first.  Both of 'em, if applicable.

Reading Abby Normal's blog entry of 7/14/05, Pet Peeves, I left a comment about the style of cage I like for small animals, which elicited the question about how we came to have a bunny.  Pictures of him are here in the gallery.  He is 5 years old and weighs about 10 - 12 pounds.

My daughter Abby, (not to be confused, of course, with AbbyNormal) had always dreamed of having a big white bunny with floppy ears.  He would be so cute and cuddly and she would always love him and take care of him and the big mean dad guy (that's me) would always say, "No."  The cute little blonde thing (she was 9 at the time) would be disappointed, but she managed, as children are wont to do, to get over it.  Oh, every once in a while we would hear about it, but it kind of came to be an accepted fact of life that a bunny wasn't in anyone's near future.

"Besides," said the big mean dad guy, "we don't have a place for a bunny.  Let daddy read you a book about bunnies." And she was still at the age where I could sometimes distract her by reading "Guess How Much I Love You" to her.

*I think this is where the piano player plays a minor chord to indicate the villain has just entered the scene.*

We had a friend who thought that Abigail was the cutest, most darling, lovable little critter that ever lived.  One day, the likely story goes, this "friend" just happened to be walking through the trailer park where she lived and just happened to see a group of feral cats attacking something.  Well, it just happened that the feral cats were attacking a domestic rabbit and its babies that someone must have released because they could not care for it anymore.  *I realize there should be a WHOLE lot more quotation marks or "Quote-Unquote" but I am trying to save time.*  Well, being the brave heroine that she was, she jumped into the fray and chased the cats away, but, lo and behold, left all alone, shivering and frightened, just happened to be a lone white baby bunny.

What cold, heartless monster could leave a little baby bunny unprotected that way?  What if the cats come back?  There is only one thing to do.  Rescue it.  So, as the story goes, she picked it up and took it in, but what to do with it?  If I take it to the pound, they will euthanize it if it isn't adopted and it's so sweet and cute and cuddly and loveable.  Maybe I should show it to my friends, first, so they can see what heroic deeds I have done this day, then, *sniff" take it to the...the...pound.  *sniff*

Big mean dad guy wasn't around.

I get home and here is little Abby, the happiest little girl you've ever seen, "Oh daddy!  You have to see what Auntie So and So brought me!"  Following the excited little girl downstairs I find a cat carrier with one of the water bottles that you use on rodent cages attached and a food dish.  We had three dogs at the time, so who in their right mind would give us a cat?

The cage was opened and it was not a cat.  It was a palm-sized white bunny.  Whiskers twitching, alert, beady red eyes looking intently all around and fixing on me, snuggled close to the heart of a pretty little blonde girl with big, wet, blue eyes.

"What is THAT?"  Asked the big mean dad guy, knowing full well what it was.

"It's a bunny, daddy, and see, he's all white and has red eyes and Auntie So and So brought him over for me to look at and she'll let me keep him."

"SHE'LL let you keep him?"

"Well, mom said I had to ask you, but daddy," At which point the little critter is placed in MY palm, "If we don't keep him, Auntie So and So will have to take him to the pound and put him to sleep and that means they'll kill him and look at how cute he is," at this point he climbs into my pocket, "and see how much he likes you already.  You're not going to let them kill him, are you?"  Tears drip.

"Darlin', what are we gonna do with a bunny?  People eat bunnies, they don't keep them as pets.  Do you know anything about bunnies?"

"People do keep them as pets and you can't eat this one, he's too small anyway, besides," the creature pokes his head out of my pocket like a baby Bugs or something, "He likes you daddy."

"He probably pooped in my pocket.  Here, take him."

Tears.  It ain't fair, I'm tellin' ya.

"Please."

"Where will you put him?"

"He can stay in the cat carrier for a while.  I already have a name for him it's Roo Boom-Boom Thiel."

Boom-Boom is her big pink, stuffed, bunny and Roo, she explains, is the cute little baby kangaroo from Winnie The Pooh.

It did not take long to realize that a cat carrier was no place for a growing bunny.  I am not a fan of so-called "outdoor pets."  I think it is wrong to leave your dog or cat outside all night.  According to Encarta World English dictionary a pet is:

1.animal kept at home: an animal kept for companionship, interest, or amusement

2.favorite person: somebody who is indulged, especially a favorite

3.loved person: somebody who is particularly loved by another, often used as a term of endearment in direct address

And if you leave your pets roaming the neighborhood or neglect them, even by not giving them attention, then you are not ready to have a pet.

I said all that to say I didn't want an outdoor hutch for the rabbit.  Only a couple of weeks had gone by and already we had discovered how intelligent and loyal they are.  You can even litter box train them!  Having three dogs at the time we couldn't really take advantage of that, but after we had cats we learned that it comes natural to rabbits.  When Roo is out hopping he will stop at the cat box, if it's clean, and use it.

So, off Abby and I go to the pet store to see what sort of accommodations are available.  Fortunately for us the young gal that waited on us was the proud and happy owner of a rabbit.  She advised us that we would want a galvanized steel ferret cage that was at least two stories high(two ferret cage stories, the rabbit isn't quite that big, yet.) so he would have room to exercise by running up and down the ramp.  She also told us to put old cardboard boxes, like old Coke 12-packs, in so he would have a place to rest his feet if the mesh of the cage started bothering them.  He was young enough that this was not a problem, but he likes the boxes because they give him a way to make a den for himself.

Abby had $200 from babysitting and between buying the cage and all the other accoutrements I sprung another $200.  We are keeping the bunny.

The one big mistake I made in the whole deal was that I didn't think about the process that would be involved in cleaning the cage.  This is why I suggest getting a cage with a slide-out drawer.  That way all you have to do is have the child slide the drawer out each day, empty it, hose it down and slide it back in, deep-cleaning the cage itself once in a while whenever it really needs it.

The cage we have weighs about fifty pounds and the cage part rests in the pan part.  In other words, every Saturday while Roo is out with Abby on his harness and leash or hopping around the house while the dog is outside, I wind up carrying the cage outside, picking it up and pounding its contents into the trash can, and setting it down in the driveway.

The pan is then emptied and both parts are hosed down.  After drying in the sun, the pan is lined with plastic trash bags and newspapers and the whole thing reassembled.  The steel tray and the corner of the cage that is Roo's bathroom are beginning to rust, which means that it's only a matter of time until we replace it.  We have been looking at ferret cages that are three to four stories high, but this time, we are getting a slide-out tray so Abby can take part in the fun.

I do have to say that she has taken good care of the bunny as much as she can.  She does feed him and pay attention to him and has read all about rabbits.  One thing that we were told was that since he is a male he would become aggressive and also spray, but since he is not kept outdoors, is handled frequently and never been exposed to other rabbits we have not had this trouble.

He is a very intelligent, likable as well as loveable pet.

All that happened 5 years ago and still, every time I clean the bunny cage or see rabbit poop, I think of our friend, Auntie So and So.

Remember, the Good Book says, Magilla Gorilla asked the chinchilla for a sip of his sarsparilla.

Okay, I apologize for not updating very often, but sometimes there are, Oh I know you won't believe this, but, sometimes there are more important things that the internet.  Occasionally there are even more important things in life than blogging.  What sacrilege he speaketh!

I also apologize to Daveman in advance, but he seemed capable to be culpable and besides, since he's a young fellow about my age he probably still remembers what the term "sense of humor" means.  Anyone who can link SCTV Comedy Network  from their blog entry MUST be so equipped.

I know most of you have worn a path (a rut, maybe?) from the computer to the bathroom and from the computer to the fridge.  Life is blogging and reading blogs and there is the whole World Wide Web to explore.  Who could ask for anything more?  What more could there be?

Let me take you to another dimension.  A dimension not of bandwidth or of RAM, but of sight (not sites) and sound.  You are about to enter the "Get A Life Zone."  Woo-doo doo-doo, woo-doo doo-doo.

Daveman was a blogger just like any other.  With no real life to speak of, he monitored his friends' blogs and RSS feeds and watched his messenger constantly.  He could barely stand it when he had to type "BRB" and run off to the bathroom and leave his friends in the chatroom.  Since discovering Pizza Hut's online ordering system @ http://www.pizzahut.com/order/ he only had to go to the fridge if he happened to have leftovers.

Little did he know what awaited him in the "Get A Life Zone."

***

And now, this word:

"Word"

***

Daveman heard a knocking noise.  Immediately he checked his CPU fan and it was okay.  He thought he had changed his messenger sound, but it wasn't that, either.  The strange noise was coming from a long-forgotten portal in the wall.  The...Oh what was it?...the...d-o-o-r.  Yes...someone was at the door.

The door.  Daveman recalled with some apprehension that the door was a portal to an unknown dimension.  There were no passwords there, no delete button and, he gasped at the thought, no ctrl-alt-del!  If he entered that dimension He had to take...hmmm...what was that called?  Responsibility.  Yes.  He had to take personal responsibility for his actions.

Daveman shouted at the portal, "Daveman's not here, man!"

Daveman recalled how to open the portal.  Slowly, carefully, he opened it a crack.  A bright, shining orb in the...sky...momentarily blinded him.  Herb and Carter the Caveman Cav Man stood there.

"Come on, Daveman, step away from the computer for a minute and stand here on the porch and breathe."

"You know," Carter said quietly, so as not to alarm Daveman, "Being a Staff Sergeant In the U.S. Cavalry, I haven't been able to update my blog since March."

Daveman reeled, almost falling off the steps.

"Better get him a double shot of Geritol; straight up," Herb said, "He doesn't look so good."

Carter explained to him the high quality of self-chiropractic care Dave could give himself just by walking around his block.  Plus, his adventures in this new dimension could fuel his blog entries for the other dimension.  How many of his fellow bloggers had an actual life?

***

And now, this important message:

Savannah Melody Thiel is now 13 lbs, 9 oz and laughs at her grandpa's jokes!

***

Daveman wondered in disbelief.  Did people really have a life outside of the blogosphere?  How could he stand that bright shiny thing in the sky?  The warmth of it felt good on his ancient, arthritic shoulders.  He stretched ergonomically and suddenly started recalling the Good Old Days.  Why, he could remember when a computer the size of his house was required to perform the simplest of calculations.  He harked back to his days as a NASA rocket scientist and having to perform functions on a slide rule.  He looked around at this new dimension.  Here was a new adventure, as great as any he had ever played in any D & D chatroom.

He turned to his newfound friends and asked, "If I enter this new dimension, can I ever go back to the blogosphere?"

"Of course, Daveman," Said Herb, "You can enter or exit this dimension, which is called, 'The Real World' at any time."  Herb explained the intricacies of the doorknob to Daveman and how the portal between the two worlds worked.

***

Another interruption:

I had my friend Dale's 3 kids at the house the other day, age 5 - 9.  I was sitting in Margaret's plastic chair and gathered them all around me real close.

"Chris!"  I said, addressing the middle one, "Pull Uncle Herb's finger."

Pull.  Noise vibrating the chair extra-loud.

Laughs, squeals of delight and cheers of, "Do it again, Uncle Herb!  Do it again!  Let me try!  Let me try!"

They had never seen this phenomenon of human physiology before!  See how important it is to get out once in a while?

***

They walked around the block slowly, bones popping and muscles creaking.  All the while Carter talked about Lt Col Custer still being on the rolls of the 7th Cav and Herb blathered on about his dangling participle.

"My bones have never felt this good in a long time," Said Daveman, "It's like they are all rearranged correctly.  I feel right spry!"

Daveman began to kneel down to kiss the feet of his saviors, smelled the stench that wafted through the tough leather of the Army boots of the Staff Sergeant and decided that handshakes all around were in order instead.

Herb and Daveman watched as the Cavalryman fixed his Stetson to his head, mounted up and rode off into the sunset.

"Who was that man in the Stetson and spurs?"  Daveman asked.

"Why, don't you know?"  Said Herb, "That was the Bone Arranger."

Ummm...I know.  The good book says, "Quit horsing around and get back to work."

For up to the minute info on Rebecca Jackson and how she's doing, her mom set up a website.

Go to www.carepages.com

Register (quick, free, pretty painless)

Type in her name as all one word, rebeccajackson

And you can see before and after pictures and other info.

The Good Book Says, "The angel of the Lord encampeth round about them that fear him, and delivereth them."

I don't know how long this paper http://www.canoncitydailyrecord.com/Top-Story.asp?ID=610 keeps archives available but there was a high speed crash in Canon City that involved my daughter's very best friend.  3 teenagers in a vehicle probably going 100+ MPH missed a turn, rolled 3 times and literally wrapped around a sign pole (hope the link works for a few days so you all can see this car.  i'd cut & paste the artice and pic, but there is that silly copyright law to bother with) and she was partially ejected.  She's a pretty girl, but her face is not so pretty at the moment.  She is on a ventilator and they had to drill a hole in her head to relieve pressure from her brain swelling.  We were up there yesterday and she still hadn't regained consciousness.

Remember, Uncle Herb says,

ALWAYS WEAR YOUR SEAT BELT!!!! ALWAYS!!!!

Warning, I don’t know when my computer is going to go down for the last time.  Very soon, methinks.  I turned it on and the display was all weird and my sound is gone.  It is in its last death throes and then I will have to find the means to put it in the shop for a while, so if you come here and I haven’t been around, that could be why.

 

Hmmm….Abby Normal wants a new poll, Ashley wants traffic…I want to make my blog worth taking the time to visit especially since I do seem to be picking up a little steam.  A new poll will take a little thinking.

 

Oh, before I forget, I need to ask someone, is it true that after you have made 100 blog entries you are supposed to do one that is “100 Things You Didn’t Know About Me?”  I mean, I have passed that point a while ago.  This entry appears to be number 118.  Then when do you have to do it again, at 200?  Why not 265?  “265 MORE things you didn’t know about me???”  Believe me, fans, friends, fiends, foes, blogophiles and just plain folks; you do NOT want to know 365 things about me.  Well, I guess I could start a little thing on the side that would have a different factoid about me every day.

 

For instance, let’s see, Okay, let me try this.  Since I’m doing it in Word I can just highlight and delete it if it sounds stupid.  Or just leave it up and give everyone something to laugh at.

 

100 things you (maybe) didn’t know about Herb:

 

1)      I like Western stuff.  Oops, you might know that one, unless you are new here or don’t actually know me.  I guess this can be our introduction.

2)      I like my coffee “hot and black as the hinges of hell.”

3)      I will fearlessly tilt your pinball machine when you are over 100,000 and about to beat my record but then I will be very sorrowful and repentant for the next 27 years until I find out you haven’t forgiven me anyway.

4)      I like to play Civilization III.

5)      I like to play chess.

6)      I am a rotten chess player.

7)      I mean a really, really rotten chess player.

8)      I skipped Third grade.

9)      I hate math.

10)  I only read the funnies in the paper.

11)  I only subscribe to the papers for the funnies.

12)  My perfect breakfast is 3 extra large eggs, over medium, 4 pieces of bacon, 4 slices of toast, a large glass of milk, a large glass of orange or cranberry juice, and gallons of coffee.

13)  This is one of the reasons I am fat.

14)  I usually have cold cereal with milk.

15)  Or McDonald’s # 3 breakfast, Bacon, Egg and Cheese Biscuit, hash browns, and coffee.

16)  I love lasagna.

17)  I love Garfield.

18)  And Snoopy.

19)  I love properly prepared German Potato Salad.

20)  I have a rejection e-mail from an online magazine.

21)  I get discouraged easily.

22)  I get encouraged just as easily.

23)  I have a “Yoopers” coffee mug.

24)  I don’t like giving out a bunch of personal information to total strangers.

25)  When I have to give out personal info to strangers it makes me grumpy.

26)  This is about as personal as you will likely get.

27)  I never intend to offend anyone.

28)  I often offend people.

29)  I can even offend myself.

30)  I shouldn’t get so offended so easily.

31)  I get really mad really easily and fly off the handle and say the first thing that comes out of my mouth.

32)  I almost always regret this.

33)  Sometimes I don’t regret it even a little bit.

34)  I love English.

35)  I love Shakespeare.

36)  I have a terrible head for the mechanics of business.

37)  I like intelligent critiques of my writing.

38)  I enjoy helping others with their writing.

39)  Oftentimes others know more about writing than I do.

40)  One of my best buddies is ugly and his feet stink.

41)  I once kicked him out of my house because his feet stunk so badly.

42)  I have read the “Hitchhikers Guide To The Galaxy” at least 42 times.

43)  I have read all five books in the H2G2 trilogy at least a dozen times.

44)  I have read the complete works of Edgar Allen Poe.

45)  And all of Sir Arthur’s “Sherlock Holmes” stories.

46)  I am working on all of Shakespeare.

47)  I am a Louis L’Amour fan.

48)  And “Hank The Cowdog.”

49)  I don’t understand why a preposition is something a sentence can’t end in.

50)  I can’t believe you made it this far down this list because I am really bored.

51)  I love puns.

52)  I had goose bumps and nightmares when I finished reading “1984.”

53)  I think everyone in the world ought to read it.

54)  And “Fahrenheit 451.”

55)  And “Have Spacesuit Will Travel”

56)  And “Dandelion Wine.”

57)  I don’t like photos of myself.

58)  My computer is five years old.

59)  These entries are getting shorter and shorter because I can’t think of 100 things that might interest anyone.

60)  I have every note, card, or picture that any Sunday School child has ever given me.

61)  Some of these people are adults now.

62)  This is taking a lot longer than I expected it would.

63)  I like to try new things as long as they are explained to me well.

64)  My favorite sandwich is Pastrami and Swiss on Rye.

65)  Or Corned Beef and Swiss on Rye.

66)  I am not superstitious about the number “6” and won’t change my order at a restaurant if the total is $6.66.

67)  I do believe in the Mark of the Beast.

68)  I believe the King James Bible is the Word of God for our time.

69)  I don’t always live by it as I should.

70)  I am a rock, I am an island (just checking to see if you’re still here.).

71)  I despise e-mails that spread Urban Legends.

72)  Or think I am stupid enough to believe them.

73)  I just hate stupid people, I think they ought to have to wear a sign that says, “I’M STUPID” so you won’t bother with them.

74)  Sometimes I need a sign.

75)  I have friends who should have permanent tattoos that say it.

76)  Knock on wood that I am not superstitious.

77)  I am also not superstitious about the number “7” and was at a camp meeting on July 7, 1977 when God was gonna come.  He didn’t.  He will when he wants to.

78)  I should have graduated in 78 instead of 77.

79)  I think retro fashions are hilarious.

80)  I’m glad I saved all my ties.

81)  I love Altoids.

82)  I think Charles Dickens is the author who comes closest to imitating real life.

83)  I think Charlie Daniel’s Soapbox  is a must-read http://www.charliedaniels.com/soapbox/soapbox.asp as is his “Open Letter to the Media from March 4, 2003: http://www.charliedaniels.com/soapbox/03/244.html

84)  I hate TV.

85)  I hate Hollyweird.

86)  I hate Madison Avenue.

87)  I love old-time radio shows, especially the comedies but can’t decide between Fibber Magee and Molly or Abbot and Costello.

88)  Tom T. Hall tells some good stories.

89)  I believe capital punishment is appropriate for some crimes.

90)  I don’t believe abortion is ever appropriate.

91)  I don’t care if you think this is a dichotomy in my nature.

92)  I think pink would be an ugly color for a gun.

93)  I like “Big Band” music.

94)  I love my new car (Thanks Margaret).

95)  I LOVE Coca-Cola.

96)  And Coca-Cola paraphernalia.

97)  And milk straight from the cow.

98)  And Wisconsin Cheese and Butter.

99)  My favorite Bible books are Ecclesiates, Job and Acts.

100)                      I am happy to be done with this list.

 

As the Good Book says, If you get too hung up on yourself you’re asking for trouble.

Haven't found any pictures yet, but we had such a bad hailstorm yesterday, the first day of summer and the end of Springtime in the Rockies, they had to call the snowplows out.  This is not a joke like Abby Normal did on her kids, ( http://funnygirl2.blogdrive.com/archive/335.html ) either.  I hope there are pics on the internet later to show the plows out and about.  They had to do behind the Citadel Mall and also up Carefree Circle N, where Tab's driving classes are.  Our drainage system in the south part of town, especially south Academy is very poor and we were rerouted because of flooding and she was a little late for class.  The joys of higher elevation.  Last week I-70 had what are called "snow-chain rules" in effect.

That was really the second part of the day's adventures; however, the first was going to get Tab's permit from the DMV, oh joy.  She has paid for this driving class herself because she wants to do it and I cannot teach them to drive.  I tried with Ben and I tried with Elizabeth and couldn't do it,  Tabitha took me down to 7-11 the other night and I about croaked.  I was all grabbing the wheel and stomping the floor and shouting, "Stop.  Stop.  Use your brake!  That's a truck!" etc.  It was 4 of the longest blocks in my life.

So, she works, and has her own money and realizes that the only way she will get her license is by taking a class which we can't afford but she can.  Colorado has made the requirements for teen drivers a lot more stringent over the last few years and she has to take a driving course, hold her permit for at least a year and log a minimum of 50 hours of driving time, 10 of which must be at night.

Part of the class is taking the written exam, which she passed with only one wrong.  So, off we go now to the DMV.  There used to be a lot of little local offices all over and you didn't have to drive across town to do business with them, but many offices were closed because the state didn't have money to run them.  Here in Colorado the state cannot just raise more taxes but rather any increase of any tax must be voted on by the people affected.  Kind of nice, really, but sometimes not quite flexible enough.  Point is, they had to close shop and consolidate offices, making for extremely long lines.

The local paper and the Denver papers ran reports recently where a DMV representative stated that the average wait at any office is 28 minutes.  Hahaha!  I thought they could only run stuff like that on April 1st or in the Weekly World News.  The reporters interviewed several people who reported having to take a day off work to get things done there and 4 and 4 1/2 hour waits.  That's more like it.  I decided to test it for myself.

We walked through the doors of the DMV office on Austin Bluffs with what we thought was all the proper paperwork in hand at 12:55.  You stand in a line that is wrapped against itself by those ribbony dinguses so more people can stand in the line inside of the place instead of the way it used to be where the line just went out the door and down the sidewalk.  This line, which is the line to get your number, took us 10 minutes to get through.  The woman asks you what you need and explains the process and gives you a number.  On the little number ticket she writes the time, so they have already shaved that 10 minutes off their average!  It is now 1:05.  We are 757 and they are now serving 732.

We wait and people-watch.  Abigail and I have a lot of with this.  We are amazed at how people are willing to leave their house and what they are going to have their pictures taken in.  Every once in a while they call a number, and sometimes they rattle off a whole string of numbers making everybody breathe a sigh of relief.  Someone got impatient and left or went outside for a smoke or something.

At 1:38, "757!"  We jump up and wave our ticket and holler, "We've got it we're coming" and scramble over people, stepping on children's feet and tripping little old ladies with canes, lest she should shout the next number.  Okay.  We all know teenagers would die of embarrassment if that were the case, so really we just stood up and I made eye contact with the clerk.

Most of the paperwork we had was okay, and things would have gone pretty smoothly, but the paper from the driving school instructor verifying she had passed the test had gone bad.  We were on our way to do this back when the tranny went out on the van and we were stuck on Academy at rush hour.

"These are only good for 30 days."

Drooping, aggravated, frustrated faces.

"You have 2 options.  You can either go back to the instructor and have him validate the form over again, or you can pay the $10 fee and retake the test."

She needs the permit so she can schedule some time with someone who will not grab the wheel and scream stop all the time but will actually be able to teach her something, so we will pay.

She had only gotten 1 wrong on the first test she took, but now she is flustered and this is a different test and she is only allowed to get 5 wrong and she misses 7.  (Did anybody ever used to watch Hee-Haw?  You know the song that Archie Campbell and whatever guest there was would sing, "Gloom, Despair and Agony on me...") The clerk offers to let her correct her answers, but this is not good.  The clerk, having several different versions of this test, offers to let her take a completely new test.  So, she retakes the retake and this time only gets 1 wrong!  Hooray for Tab (and dad who won't have to hear how he should have taken her before the thing expired, etc.)!  It is not 2:05.

There is no waiting for the picture line, so by 2:10 we are saying goodbye to the number lady and heading for the door.

Later that evening, we will go to the driving school through hail and flooded streets and watch in amazement as the snowplows drive along on the first day of summer.

Remember the Good Book says, "As snow in summer, and as rain in harvest, so honour is not seemly for a fool." And "Hast thou entered into the treasures of the snow? or hast thou seen the treasures of the hail..."

Well, Father's Day was nice.  Everyone wishes you well and you are king for a day.  The Wayward one called me and told me she still loves me, so that was nice.  You know, you love your kids but it is ever an amazement to me how DIFFERENT they all really are!  They can be raised in the same household with the same parents and all just be so widely different.

The ladies at church were having a bake sale and Grandma Pike asked one of the ladies to bake something special for me and she paid extra to have a special present to give to me for Father's Day.  A German Chocolate Cake!  Yum-yum!  Margaret had taken me out to lunch Friday and breakfast Saturday and made a special pork roast/stew type of thing for Sunday.

Herb, why are you writing about Father's Day so late?  Well, because I already had my entries thought up and written for the other stuff.  Sometimes I go through a dry time other times I have a lot of ideas.  Well, I always have lots of ideas, but just not always ones to write about.

Did you ever go on the rides at the fair when you were a kid?  Maybe you still do.  The outrageously overpriced amusement parks always have long lines.  Did you ever find one that you and your friend(s) liked that went up and down and round and round faster and faster and when you got off you were all dizzy and wobbly-legged and pukey and you all said, "Let's do that again?!?"  Life is like that sometimes.

Remember, the Good Book says, "Life is like an amusement park ride, full of ups and downs and going round in circles and swearing you'll never ride that ride again but getting right back on it."

I read a good article in the new "Writer's Digest" the other day.  It is the July 2005 issue with the girl on the cover who is holding her laptop as though she just won the $3000 prize in their contest.  Anyway, on page 50 there is an article by a person named Cassandra Hemenway Brush, called "Stolen Goods".  This is a good article.  I subscribe to two writing magazines for different reasons, but one of the things I enjoy about the articles here are that they are concise without being abrupt.

This article is about how to prevent your stuff from being plagiarized.  She gives you six lessons on things you can do to protect yourself from places that use content that they don't have any rights to.  Lesson one, the author gives us the most likely sounding advice of all, she says, Go Google yourself.

She did!  She told me to Google myself...oh...er...this just in... www.Google.com is a search engine.  Okay I knew that, but it still sounds funny.  So.  What is it like to Google yourself?

I Googled my name and came up with well over 14 pages of results!  Wow!  I am one popular guy, right.  Well, I found this blog on page 4 of the results.  I didn't even find my poetry that's on www.poetry.com at all.  I have some opinions about those people too.  E-mail me before you give away your work to them.

Anyway, I was really disappointed.  I thought I would have more fun googling myself.  *sighs heavily*

********

After I finished lazing about the ARC store Saturday I went to another of my favorite kinds of spots, a used book store.  This one was the "Book Rack" on South Academy, which is in the same center (what is the difference between a plaza and a mall and a shopping center, etc?) as the ARC and the lady and her cat are very pleasant.  I think cats belong in bookstores and libraries.  Anyway, I love these places, and never do the exchange thing.  I almost never get rid of a book.  If it is so bad that I don't want my children or friends and neighbors to see what sort of trash I have been reading I will usually donate them...

Back to the bookstore.  If you come to Colorado Springs, there are a plethora of new and used bookstores to choose from.  I guess I should say, "From which to choose" so I don't use a preposition to end the sentence with.  This one is pleasant, but not the biggest.  I discovered a little gem that you have heard of.  It's called, "Everything I Really Need to Know I Learned In Kindergarten" by Robert Fulghum.  Now I have seen this done as a poster with multitudinous rip-offs and satires including all I need to know I learned from my...Dog, Cat, Pig, Cow, Cheese, Bratwurst, 00 Dodge Intrepid which goes too fast, ummm, okay, so maybe I haven't seen ALL of those.  But this is a wonderful little book.  Much better (in my opinion) than the Chicken Soup books, but maybe written for a different purpose, too.

If you see it, pick it up and give it a read.  It's one of those things that you can just open up to a page and start reading and get a little something.  It is sometimes a little syrupy and not good (or possible?) to read all the way through in one sitting, but a definite must-read.  The stories are short and read like a blog (There's a silly idea some joker will come up with.  A blog that you can carry with you everywhere you go, like, take some sheets of paper, bind them up somehow, maybe you could twist a wire through the sheets to hold them together and put cardboard or plastic covers on the ends to protect them.  Then you could make a stylus like the one you use with your Palm, only fill it with ink.  You could then, here's the silly part, write directly on the paper and not even use a computer at all.  Just print directly to the paper!  Am I a genius or what?)  And are (That was kind of a long parenthetical break, wasn't it?  I wonder what the longest in literature has ever been.  Soliloquies <spelled that myself> should count, but if not, I wonder if there is a World's Record for it.  It would have to take less time to break than crawling 33 miles and be easier on the knees.  My English teacher abhorred the use of parentheses and said that if it wasn't important enough to the piece to make its own paragraph or sentence, it probably should not be included.)  Quick and sometimes humorous, sometimes (She said your readers will forget what you were saying and have to go back and sort through all that junk) poignant.

I opened it up just now and read a story about an idea for a crayon bomb to bring world peace.  I like this little book.

Remember, the Good Book says, "Flush."  Well, okay, it says to go outside the camp to a designated spot with your shovel and do your business and bury it, but I say you can shrink it down to one word of advice, "Flush."