Recovering 4Sqr

Moon Over the Front Pew

2009-03-11T15:08:00.000-07:00

One fine day I decided that my tenure at the TOAD had come to an end and resigned. My intent at that time was to take several months off and kind of float between churches or not go at all as I felt the urge. This period was to last about 4 months.

About two or three months prior to my resignation from the TOAD a friend of mine, who was a minister and had recently been ordained a priest decided to plant a church in a valley north of the city for his new communion. Upon learning that I had left the TOAD he called one day and invited me to visit his new church. The following Sunday I visited his church and though it was small, was impressed. Later that week my friend called and invited me to join the ministry there. I accepted his invitation and united with this new liturgical communion. This turned out to be a very good move; while at this parish I met and married my wife and out little son was born.

About 6 ½ years into my tenure at this church my friend and his wife accepted the call from the Bishop to move to a city in another state and there plant a new church. We were all sad to see them go. His associate, Junior, became the new rector and for about six months or so, things were good. However, after about six months, the entire parish began to veer, very subtly, off center. Some rather curious theology and traditions began to creep in and ooze in. Some parish members were treated as 6-year old children, while others were exalted – for no rhyme or reason. As the church began to list some rather interesting characters were swept in; characters that would have been right at home with the strangest of the TOAD’s denizens. Some of these were Moon Doggie and Sweet Pea; Jerry G II and his sidekick, Janis J; and a few others. Of this group, Moon Doggie and Sweet Pea were the most interesting.

Moon Doggie and Sweet Pea were old hippies; basically, refugees from the 1960’s whom no one had informed were over. They looked and dressed the part. They also had a rather eclectic brood of off-spring with such names as Timon, Pumba, Tobias and Jehova. Tobias was a Bishop, although no one could quite figure out which communion he was with. When in attendance, which was frequent, the entire group occupied the front pew. Tobias appeared to have bladder issues which required him to take a rather loud walk down the center aisle numerous times to the facilities during the service. However, the most colorful of the group was Moon Doggie.

Moon Doggie, as an aging hippie, was rather boisterous in his expressions and religious fervor with few discernible inhibitions. As he was always seated on the front pew, everyone from the second row back was treated to a show, whether they wanted it or not. Oh, and did I mention that he did not believe in wearing underwear? As an added attraction to an already colorful show, every time Moon Doggie jumped up, his faded jeans went down treating everyone from the second row back to a view of his pallid white ass. He did not believe in the wearing of a belt or any kind of support for his jeans either.

The show became something of a joke among various members of the parish. Although, if one had brought guests, the show could be rather embarrassing. It did provide comic relief at times.

More to come…………………Jerry G II and Janis, Pee Wee Herman and Shinbones

The Perfect Foursquare Disciple

2008-10-10T11:58:00.000-07:00

What else can be said?

NO MORE RECOVERINGFRSQR

2008-10-08T08:36:00.000-07:00

No longer am I RecoveringFrsqr. I am now fully recovered from the Foursquares. My tenure ended there on October 6, 2008 - THANK GOODNESS. The Foursquare Curia like the TOAD across the street, had its own unique cast of characters - some found nowhere else in the known universe.

Some of these denizens about whom more will be written later were: Pope Hayseed I, Stringbean, Sterling Silver and his wife Witchy Woman, Bluto, Psychotic Genie, Brujita and many others.

No more church of the Foursquares !!!!!!!!!!!!!

Chiquita, Hatchet and the Funeral

2007-06-25T20:34:00.000-07:00

The TOAD had such a collection of unique individuals that there were times when I thought that it must have been situated on top of some type of energy source that attracted these characters. Another one of "God's Choice Servants" as some of these types were called was Chiquita. Chiquita was a lady of a certain age who attempted to pass herself off as a lady of a much younger age. This was attempted with liberal ministrations of Jean Nate' - one always knew where Chiquita was and where she had been. In addition, the wiring upstairs was somewhat faulty. Chiquita had an outgoing, bubbly type personality and was always trying to ingratiate herself with one person or another. One person that she managed to ingratiate herself with was Hatchet, wife of good ol' parson Peaseporridge.

According to Hatchet, Chiquita had a "true servant's heart". It was somewhat true, especially where Hatchet was concerned as Chiquita became her gofer.

One day an acquaintance of Chiquita's passed away and the funeral was announced. It was to be at another venue than the TOAD, Forest Lawn to be exact, and Chiquita did not feel comfortable going there alone. So, she prevailed upon her good friend Hatchet to go with her. Hatchet agreed and on the appointed day and time the two found themselves on the way to Forest Lawn, chatting non-stop like a couple of magpies and solving everyone's problems.

Once they reached their destination they went into a chapel where a funeral was getting ready to start. H0wever, their chatter continued unabated, somewhat more discreet of course. After all, one had to be respectful at a funeral. At the end of the service the congregation was ushered up to the front of the chapel to pay their respects and view the deceased one last time. Upon reaching the casket, Hatchet turned and looked at Chiquita and in her loud, nasal, hilbilly twang asked "Who Is This?" The music and everything stopped momentarily. You see, these two had gone to the wrong funeral.

Just another fun day at the TOAD.

Brother Phinneas

2007-06-20T17:50:00.000-07:00

As I have stated many times before, the TOAD was a rather eclectic collection of beings, some human some otherwise, and some found nowhere else in the known universe. One such example was Brother Phinneas.

No one was quite sure as to when Brother Phinneas started attending the TOAD, he just kind of showed up one day. To say that he was unique would be an understatement. There was none other like him, no where. A few of the pundits around the TOAD declared that he was one of the few there who were actually certifiable. After my encounter with him I tended to agree.

At that time good ol' Parson Peasporridge had declared a policy of "Whosoever Will" when it came to persons wanting to be involved in ministry - all comers were accepted. This was particularly true in the music department. My predecessor, Ichabod, had felt honor bound to accept any and all into the choir and music ministry. Thus, Phinneas found his niche in the ministry of the TOAD. It later fell to me to try and convince some of these "choice servants" that perhaps their giftings and calling were in another area; hopefully far, far away.

Brother Phinneas was a member of the choir - with musical abilities that were dubious at best. Also, he seemed to have some type of mental/nervous disorder and his temperament and personality would vacillate from one end of the spectrum to the other with little in the mid range of somewhat normal. This made for some rather interesting rehearsals and performances on Sunday mornong. Phinneas was particularly susceptible to the "Worship Leading" of Hatchette Peaseporridge and could always be counted on to respond in a flamboyant, true Pentecostal style.

Phinneas lived in the neighborhood of the TOAD and one fine day found himself being served with some type of due process by a Marshall. No one ever found out what exactly Phinneas was being served with. However, he did not take kindly to being served in this manner and took off after the Marshall with a 2 x 4. The Marshall, as an officer of the law, was not going to allow anyone to assault him with a 2 x 4 and drew his pistol. After numerous warnings to Phinneas to back off which were ignored, the Marshall fired the pistol. The result of this discharge was a gaping hole in Phinneas' chest with a piece of lead embedded therein.

Now, most people upon being shot would seek some type of medical assistance immediately, providing of course they are still conscious and in possession of a sound mind. Phinneas was conscious, however, the soundness of his mind was open to question. For some strange reason, Phinneas elected to not seek any type of medical attention even though the paramedics had arrived. He appeared at Choir Rehearsal later that evening telling of his adventure and showing all who were interested and those who weren't, the wound, or "Battle Scar" as he called it. He stated that the "Anti-Christ" had begun to attack and he, Phinneas, was one of the first victims. Few, however, agreed with this.

The next day we learned that Phinneas had agreed to be taken to the hospital and let the doctors get the lead out and close the hole. However, on the operating table being ready to be put under the anesthesia, Phinneas had a change of heart. He sat up and announced that he had decided not to go through with the operation. He jumped off the table and with hospital gown open to the rear and his pallid white cheeks flapping in the breeze, walked out of the hospital.

He appeared at church the following Sunday,singing in the Choir and showing and telling all who would listen and look of his adventures and resulting wounds. This continued for about 2 weeks, he would appear at church for rehearsal and services, wanting to engage in show and tell. However, as time went on, the gaping wound on his chest began to fester and as gangrene was setting in he decided maybe the doctors should finish what they had started.

He returned to church about a week later regaling everyone with the tales of his adventure, particularly the women, whom he had begun to show an interest in. At this turn of events I decided that enough was enough, Peasporridge or no Peasporridge and decided to take matters into my own hands. I decided that it was time for Phinneas to seek ministry opportunities elsewhere, the choir supported me 100%. A couple of days later I approached Phinneas and told him that I had a "word" for him. (He was very spiritual and always looking for a "Word") The "Word" was that the choir and music ministry had been a "season" for him. The season was now over and it was time to move with the "Cloud and Pillar of Fire" At first he was reluctant, however when he perceived that I was not going to back down, he accepted this "word" and went off to join the "Circle of Love" (see my earlier posting titled "Circle of Love")
I never heard how the old hens and barracudas accepted him or dealt with him.

Things That Cost Too Much

2007-06-04T12:23:00.000-07:00

A recent entry by Matushka Joann and Padre inspired me to create a list of my own. Herewith, things that cost too much:

1. Jean Paul Gaultier fragrances - blame the French and Nordstrom's
2. Prada glasses frames
3. Gucci loafers - blame the Pope
4. Armani slacks
5. Rev. Numnut's one-way plane ticket to Novosibirsk, Siberia
6. Dean and DeLuca goodies
7. Brujita's one-way plane ticket to Ulanbaatar, Mongolia
8. Airfare to New York
9. Baby Bass Weejuns - can't figure out on whom to place blame here.
10. Last but certainly not least, the 1.5 Kt Diamond studs the Glorygrl wants for her ears.

Pizza

2007-05-12T09:54:00.000-07:00

Being married to a New Yorker has some definite advantages. For one, it gives me a connection to one of my favorite cities, the Big Apple and since she calls her former parish, one of the largest churches in our denomination home, there is a connection there as well. Through her I have also been introduced to such establishments as Dean & DeLuca, JR Electronics, Nick's, Marvel Ice Cream and Lombardi's in Little Italy.

The pizza at Lombardi's is second to none and was even featured on the Travel Channel recently. During a recent visit to New York we had the pleasure of dining at Lombardi's and I, like my wife, became a convert and true believer. Domino's, Ameci's, Papa John's, Pizza Hut, Chi Chi's, Barones, etc., do not come close to Lombardi's in their pizza. For several months now my wife has had a strong craving for Lombardi-style pizza, and finding all the offerings in our area to be lacking, took matters into her own hands. To satisfy this we basically had two options; 1) hop the next flight to JFK and have the real thing or 2) try to recreate it here. She tried option #2 - results were spectacularly successful.

Yesterday she and the little guy went on an exploratory expedition to some of the retail establishments and by a miracle, were able to procure all the necessary ingredients for a Lombardi's pizza - fresh mozzarella (not the shredded kind in Ralph's), fresh basil, fresh prosciutto and fresh sweet red peppers and the correct ingredients for the dough. The result of this was spectacular, true New York-style pizza. The only thing missing was the brick oven and the ambience of Lombardi's and the city itself. I later heard her promise some pizza to one of our friends.

I am blessed.

SOCIAL EVENTS AT THE TOAD

2007-05-09T16:51:00.000-07:00

One thing that occurred at the TOAD, almost as frequently as someone being "promoted to Glory", was the myriad of social gatherings. The congregation for all its oddities and eccentricities was very social. Some of these gatherings were quite nice, others, not nearly so. All of the groups in the church from the Sunday School classes to the youth groups to the ladies covens had them. One of the more elegant gatherings was the annual Choir Dinner, held every year just before Christmas in the home of one of the wealthier members of the choir. Her home was located in the hills above the city near the old Charlie Chaplin estate and together with a spectacular view of the city, provided an elegant setting. To complete the experience the lady had the entire affair catered and hired servants to do all the work so no one else would have to work, particularly after just completing the Christmas musical.

Another church group that was known for its social gatherings was the New Converts Class. However, invitations to these gatherings were limited to new converts only. In order to secure an invitation, one had to be a new convert and attending the new converts class. The teacher and his wife, who was first generation Sicilian, invited the new convert to their home for a totally home-cooked Italian meal. Everything, including the pasta, was made from scratch. I did manage to obtain a sample of the ravioli one time, it was to die for.

From that point, things now go downhill somewhat. In a previous posting I told of the monthly gatherings sponsored by the Coven of Love, oops, I mean the Circle Of Love at a local eatery. These gatherings frequently resembled a Granny Smack Down more than anything else. A leader of one of the factions was Sister Harriet, an autumnal matron who was a pillar of the church and had been there since the early days of "Sister." Sister Harriet considered herself to be the quintessential hostess and regularly threw smart little dinner parties for a select few at her grace and favor apartment near the church.

These little gatherings sort of resembled the "Candle Light Suppers" thrown by Hyacinth Bucket on the BritCom "Keeping Up Appearances". In addition, Sister Harriet tended to remind one of Hyacinth in many ways. At one of these events the music staff was the select few to be invited and on the appointed date and time we all trooped over to her apartment for an evening of food and riparian entertainment. Little did any of us realize just how entertaining the evening was going to be.

That evening Sister Harriet was all atwitter at having musicians in her home. She had been part of the Music Department at the TOAD in her earlier days, working as a page when she was young and then as a member of the Accordion Band later on. She always regretted the demise of the Accordion Band; to her the accordion was the epitome of musical expression. On this evening she was focused on all the musicians in regaling us with tales from the early days of the TOAD. As it turned out, she was focused on little else. Midway through her discourse someone remarked on how lovely all the candles were and, my, wasn't the candle in the kitchen awfully bright. She responded that she had not lit a candle in the kitchen. Sure enough, she hadn't; the kitchen was on fire. Apparently she had been so focused on telling her tales that she forgot about the meat cooking on the stove. The hot oil and grease reached the point of combustion and ignited setting the entire kitchen ablaze. Fortunately for her, the damage was only cosmetic. Several of us utilized the ensuing confusion to beat a hasty retreat to the original Tommy's.

A couple of months after the "Candle Light Supper" the wedding of one of the sons of the largest and most socially prominent families took place. This particular wedding was the highlight of the social calendar that year and everything was perfect, or nearly so. The reception, a sit-down affair for about 500 guests was to be held in the church's Family Center. At this point in time the Articles of Faith of the TOAD forbade the use of alcohol, tobacco, attending movies, dancing and all other forms of "wordly " entertainment. Thus. the reception was going to be a rather dry, quiet, sedate affair, so they thought. However, there were several members of this family who did not subscribe to the TOAD's Articles of Faith and, deciding that the libations did not have enough potency, took matters into their own hands.

They set up a Shot Bar in the men's restroom. Word of this venture surreptitiously spread throughout the hall and soon there was a steady stream of guys making their way to the bathroom. The women, not to be left out, soon formed a little group outside the men's room door while their husbands, dates or significant others went in and procured refreshments.

Hatchette Peasporridge upon seeing the parade to the restroom asked me if I knew what was happening. I mumbled something about a genetic weak-bladder disorder and excused myself. The party soon became quite lively with impromptu singing and dancing. Abuelita Rosa, 91, gave a demonstration of the cumbia. Tia Graciela and Tia Ana, both in their 80's started a conga line. Originally scheduled to end at 9PM, the party went on until after midnight, a rip-roaring good time was had by all.

As a post script to the wedding story - the groom appeared at my front door at about 1AM that evening and asked if he could come in and "hang out", and did I have any soda to drink. Somewhat stunned by this appearance, I asked "Isn't there anything else on your mind tonight?" He said that he couldn't think of anything, his new wife had gone to bed.

"Maybe she wants you to join her?" I asked. Believe it or not, these two are still married.

The Light Bulb

2007-05-02T20:30:00.000-07:00

More religious light bulb jokes, folks:

How many charismatics does it take to change a light bulb? - Only one, since his/her hands are already in the air.
How many Calvinists does it take to change a light bulb? - None. God has predestined when the lights will be on.
How many Mormons does it take to change a light bulb? - Six men. One to authorize the change, two to look up references in the Book of Mormon and also look up other sources to determine what Joseph Smith and Brigham Young would do and three to keep the women in submission, keeping them from giving advice, instructions or usurping authority over men.
How many Foursquares does it take to change a light bulb? - Ten, one to change the bulb and nine to pray against the spirit of darkness.
How many tele-evangelists does it take to change a light bulb? - One, but for the message of the light to continue, send in your love gift today.
How many Catholics does it take to change a light bulb? - None, they use candles.

Sister Aimee

2007-04-03T20:24:00.000-07:00

It was with a certain amount of interest that my wife and I

tuned into PBS on Monday night to watch their latest

offering on "The American Experience" - "Sister Aimee"

When I first learned of this production I was somewhat interested

as I hoped that it would be a much more accurate reflection

of the lady and not the usual white-washed, super spiritual

admonitions that I have seen in the past posing as "documentaries" on the life of Aimee Semple McPherson. I must admit that I have a more than casual interest in this subject, for a wide variety of reasons, not the least of which is that my maternal grandparents worked with her. My godmother was in her Children's Choir and was a favorite of Sister who referred to her as "my little Pixie".

To be sure, she did a tremendous work during the Great Depression with her relief work in the city of Los Angeles, this was briefly touched on. She also racked up an impressive string of "firsts" - First woman to drive across the United States, first woman to preach on the radio, first woman to own a radio station, first woman to investigate the possibilities of television, the list goes on. She, like the church she built, was a very colorful, flamboyant person. And as such, attracted a lot of attention, some deserved, some not. From my research and study of this lady, "Sister" as she was known, I submit some of the stories that were uncovered. It is possible that the current leadership might not want some of these to see the light of day, but, oh well.

It was not widely publicized then or now, but it was and is known that Charlie Chaplin and Sister Aimee communicated regularly with each other. He provided a great amount of technical expertise in her drama production. When the Temple was remodeled the first time it was he who suggested that a proscenium arch be added to the stage which greatly facilitated the drama productions.

Other Hollywood personalities that either attended or were involved were Douglas Fairbanks, Jr,. Mary Pickford; Anthony Quinn was a member of the Silver Band.

Being flamboyant and colorful did attract a certain amount of attention, not all of it positive. At one point the City of Los Angeles was concerned about the goings-on and antics of Sister Aimee and her mother, Ma Kennedy, that they appointed a Lunacy Commission to investigate. One fine day the commission paid a call on Ma Kennedy who began preaching to them and telling them they were going to hell. The members of the commission left scratching their heads, not entirely sure of what had just transpired.

On another occasion, Sister needed a live, talking parrot, for one of her sermons. She learned that the circus was in town and reasoned that there would be such an animal there. She was right. From one of the roustabouts she obtained a parrot that she was told could speak. She took it to the temple and placed it on a perch on the platform in front of a mic and all 5,000 people there. However, no one had taken the time to check the language of the parrot prior to installing it in the church. During the first part of the service, the parrot sat quietly on its perch taking everything in. However, when Sister began to speak, it did also. The parrot, it seems, knew only one phrase, which it began to repeat loudly on the radio mic - "Go to hell!"

Things haven't changed much since then.

Other stories that the PBS documentary could have mentioned were the one about the Ku Klux Klan, the one about the Gypsies, Sister and the motorcycle, the Blessed Hope Cemetary which used the catchy marketing phrase "Go up with Sister". The closer your plot was to Sisters, the more expensive it was. Another story they could have told was that after the break-up with her third husband, David Hutton, he resumed his career as a night club singer. One evening he was performing and a delegation from the Temple came to his show and during one of his songs, they pelted him with eggs. Christian love. And finally, it was rumored, although never conclusively proven, that when Sister passed in 1944 a phone line was installed in her grave at Forest Lawn. The logic being that when she rose from the dead, she could call someone to get her out. Don't know how true this is, I could never get anyone to comment on it, either way.

More new Clergy at The Four Corners

2007-03-28T20:29:00.000-07:00

The Holy See of Four Corners is pleased to announce that it has received applications for Ministerial Credentials from the following members of the All Saints Family, all of which have been approved:

Kimo Mski
Buddy James
Chick Mski
Lacey O - close friend of the Rev's Pee Wee and Herman Golden

Also, congrats to Sister Amy - received her District Ministerial License last week from the Rt. Rev. Numnuts.

If any of you have others worthy of credentials please let us know.

Brother Grandpa and Brother Johnnie

2007-03-27T20:23:00.000-07:00

My maternal grandfather and father were both Pentecostal ministers and for a period of time were both in the same denomination. My grandfather, for reasons never fully understood or disclosed, had a certain amount of disdain for my father. My father, for his part, acquired an equal amount of disdain for my grandfather. This mutual dislike would be verbalized one to the other publicly as neither was one to mince words. At family gatherings there would be an initial period of truce. However, sooner or later, something would trigger one or the other and then, as the old saying goes, "the fur would fly". Some rather uncharitable and decidedly unchristian utterances would be heard - from both.

As Pentecostal preachers, both had their "public persona's" that would be put on like the proverbial "Sunday-Go-To-Meetin" clothes whenever they were in church or around non-family members.

Periodically our visits to Grandma and Grandpa would be over a Sunday; church attendance by all was expected. The only acceptable excuse for an absence on this occasion was death - your own. Grandpa and Dad both became very spiritual suddenly and even more amazing, very loving toward each other, with public expressions. To those of us who had witnessed the earlier encounters between these two, this entire scene was quite amusing.

Grandpa and Grandma would take their places on the platform and at the beginning of the service Grandpa would publicly ask "Brother Johnnie" (my Dad), a minister like himself, to come and sit on the platform with him and his wife. "Brother Johnnie" would oblige and go forward and greet "Brother Grandpa" with a hug. Later on in the service, "Brother Grandpa" would get up and announce how pleased he and Grandma were to have some members of their family in attendance, particularly their daughter with her husband and family. Her husband, "Brother Johnnie" was a preacher. He would then ask "Brother Johnnie" to come and give a word of greeting or to give the sermon. Again, warm hugs would be exchanged with the words "God bless you real good, Brother Johnnie". Dad would respond with "God bless you too, Brother Grandpa!"

Dad would then launch into whatever he was going to do, greet or preach. If it was a greeting, at the end a blessing would be pronounced upon "Brother Grandpa" and his fine congregation. If it was a sermon, a blessing would be pronounced upon "Brother Grandpa" and his flock, whereupon "Brother Grandpa" would immediately get up and respond. He would comment on the tremendous blessing that all had received to a chorus of "Amens" from the congregation. He would then state that "wouldn't it be a great idea to have Brother Johnnie come and hold a revival for us?" The response, again, was a chorus of "Amens" from the congregation.

To my knowledge, the invitation was never actually extended and I am not too certain that it would have been accepted.

Family gatherings are somewhat more quiet now - Grandpa passed on in 1988, Dad, in 1995. Their memory is blessed.

New Clergy at our home

2007-03-17T20:22:00.000-07:00

My wife and I are pleased to announce that we have two new clergy at our house. These two individuals are somewhat unique. Shortly after their birth they were witnesses to a homicide in New York City. During the confusion this caused their mother disappeared and was never located, their father had previously disappeared prior to their birth. They were rescued by the crime scene photographer who took them to his home in upper Manhattan. Their circumstances at that location could have best been described as "Early American Crack Den" A short time later a poor soul on Long Island rescued them from that environment and got them into the witness protection program. Later the entire crew moved west.

Upon their arrival at their new home in the west these two continued to practice the Judaism that they had grown up with, faithfully observing Shabbat every Friday evening. However, they also dabbled a bit in Hinduism and also took up singing. One of their favorite songs was the "Flower Song" from Lakme by Delibes (They had been inspired by the British Airways TV commercial that also uses this song). Recently they decided to open a new chapter in their lives and joined the Four Corners Church; they have enthusiastically embraced this movement. On Friday, March 16 they were granted ministerial credentials with this group, with the proviso that they maintain a godly lifestyle and remain in fellowship with their "brothers and sisters" in the faith.

I give you the Rev Pee Wee Golden and the Rev Herman Golden.

The ATM

2007-03-02T21:47:00.000-08:00

Today, I did something that I had not done in over two years - I actually went inside the TOAD. A true saint had passed on and I was there for her memorial service. However, upon entering this edifice I noticed that off to the right of the entrance was an ATM machine - I have heard the jokes about ATM's in church but had never actually encountered one. This was somewhat of a surprise knowing, as I do, the extremely conservative nature of a large segment of the congregation.

I suppose an ATM would make it easier to put money in the collection plate, however, I am not too sure as to the theological implications here. Didn't Christ drive out the money changers and merchants from the Temple? Oh, and just across the lobby (or would it be a narthex) from the ATM was the church coffee house offering coffees, pastries and other assorted goodies as well as an assortment of books, tapes and T-shirts.

I am interested in comment and commentary from some of you more advanced theologial minds such as Br. Snuffy, Br. Scott, Fr. Mski, Sister Moitle, JessnbeckahsMom, Joanne, and anyone else who has a thought or theological insight to impart.

Firecrackers

2007-02-23T15:31:00.000-08:00

My grandfather was a Pentecostal preacher who, together with my grandmother, pastored a number of churches in the Pacific Northwest. They assisted the renowned "Sister Aimee" in a couple of her evangelistic crusades in the area and planted a couple of churches for her organization that are still in existence. They were also a sought-after speaker and teacher, traveling periodically to other locations in the Northwest to minister. They also had eight children who enhanced the number in attendance at all the churches to which Grandpa and Grandma were sent. When Grandpa and Grandma traveled, they would take some of the older children with them, primarily as a peace keeping measure at home; the younger ones would be left at home with a baby-sitter. For these trips, they would secure the services of a dear old saint in their church, Sister Meany.

Meanie, as she was affectionately known, was a jolly rotund soul full of life that doted on the "Little Angels", as the brood was sometimes referred to. With her, the strict discipline of Grandpa and Grandma was greatly relaxed as she allowed them basically get away with murder and sometimes was even known to aid and abet their activities. Some of the pundits in the church stated that the little angels "halos" were held up by something closely resembling horns. In truth, the brood more closely resembled the little group in the movies comprised of Spanky, Alfalfa, Darla, Weezer and Froggy, than they did anything angelic. During Grandpa and Grandma's absences it was not uncommon for Meanie to take the Little Angels on shopping forays into town and procure all kinds of treats for them. Some of these treats were procured at retail; others, at 5-finger discounts. She was a large woman and wore an even larger coat and on cold days would put the little darlings under it as they walked down the street. The sight of the large woman with multiple sets of legs under her coat resembled a mother hen herding her chicks down the street.

One summer, Grandpa and Grandma had agreed to speak and minister at a 4th of July Pentecostal Camp Meeting in another city and decided to leave the entire brood (all 8) with Meanie - a guaranteed recipe for excitement. Now, the parsonage that the church had provided the family had a wood-burning stove in the kitchen for cooking. It was the duty of the older boys to keep it supplied with wood and clean out the ashes on a daily basis. They were also to have the stove prepared for the morning meal by having an ample supply of wood and kindling in it so that all Grandma, or whoever else was doing the cooking, would have to do was light a match and drop it in.

As this particular trip was at the time of the 4th of July, firecrackers were in abundance. This was well before the days when the laws prohibiting fireworks of this type were enacted, thus the firecrackers were not the safe and sane variety. They very closely resembled little sticks of dynamite with enough power to maim and do other harm. With their parents gone and Meanie in charge the uncles prepared to have their own 4th of July celebration

On the morning of July 4th they dutifully cleaned out the ashes from the stove and put in the wood and kindling. However, they had also placed a generous portion of their firecrackers in the bottom of the stove underneath the wood and kindling. They then retired to the living room to listen to Fibber McGee on the radio and wait expectantly. A short time later Meanie plodded into the kitchen, lifted up one of the burners on the stove, lit a match and dropped it in and began to prepare breakfast. As the uncles, and by now, the rest of the brood as well, waited, nothing happened. They reasoned among themselves that the firecrackers must have been duds.

Meanie proceeded with breakfast and called the brood to dine. They all trooped into the kitchen and partook of the meal set before them. Upon completion of the meal everyone remained around the kitchen table talking when all of a sudden there was a loud "pop" from the depths of the wood stove. This got the immediate attention of Meanie as well as everyone else - the uncles included who were attempting to look surprised and shocked. The first "pop" was followed by a series of explosions each of which sent the four burners on the stove flying up into the air and then crashing back down on the stove. Fortunately, the wood stove was made of rather heavy cast iron and it survived. Meanie, however, almost did not. With the second explosion that sent a burner flying into the air, she jumped up and launched into a high pitched scream "eeeeeeeeeeeeeeee" and began running around the room flapping and waving her arms about and saying something about the "Anti-Christ attacking" Eyewitnesses reported that it was quite a sight. The entire brood lost it and dissolved into hysterics.

For some mysterious reason, Grandpa and Grandma did not learn of this incident until all their children were grown and on their own. By that time, Meanie had passed on and the statute of limitations had expired on the uncles.

Texas Has A Whore House In It

2007-01-21T19:08:00.000-08:00

As I had mentioned in a previous entry, during my tenure at the TOAD, I had a habit of playing some not-so-sacred music at times during the service. These were generally times when I was required to provide background music so we would not have dead air space and lose some of the radio audience, a real tragedy indeed. Anyway, someone out there in radioland had gotten wind of what I was doing and sent a note to Peasporridge. This resulted in a rather curt note from Hatchet (his wife) to me requesting that music be sacred. I complied with the spirit of the note but not necessarily the letter. From that point I made certain that my musical offerings "sounded" sacred. Besides, what did Hatchet know about music - to her the epitome of musical expression was that old song "I Want To Be Under the Spout Where The Glory Comes Out." She obviously had forgotten, or never knew, that some of the greatest hymns of the church started life as definitely non-sacred pieces. For example, "A Mighty Fortress", that great statement of faith, was originally a German dance tune. "O Sacred Head Now Wounded" was a little drinking ditty entitled "My Piece of Mind is Shattered by a Tender Maiden's Charms." "The Star Spangled Banner" started life as an English drinking song. Several settings of the Mass were based on folk songs. Anyway, I digress.

In keeping with the spirit of Hatchet's edict, the following sunday I chose a musical number, that although it sounded sacred, it definitely wasn't. A few evenings previously some friends and I had watched the musical "Best Little Whorehouse In Texas" There was one song, sung by Dom Deluise, that did sound slightly sacred; and it did have "Lord Have Mercy On Our Souls" in it. This became the offertory the following sunday, "Texas Has A Whore House In It" To my utter amazement it was well received by the audience.

After the service, a couple my warped friends and I were talking when Hatchet walked up. These two friends had been in on the scheme and knew the song. Hatchet was all glowing and patted me on the back and stated how much she enjoyed the offertory. "See", she said "You can play good Christian music - and it was Southern Gospel too! "

I bit down hard on my lip and nodded politely to her. However, one of my warped friends responded saying "I kind of reminds you of your days in the South, doesn't it?"

Hatchet replied that it certainly did and walked away telling me to keep up the good work.

Just another fun day at the Four Corners mother church, the venerable TOAD.

A Fantasy

2006-12-28T19:21:00.000-08:00

Those who know my wife and me are aware that we were recently blessed with the arrival of Little JJ - a true gift from God. What is not commonly known is that a few years prior to my arrival at All Saints, where I met and married my wife, I was involved with another person of the female persuasion. This person, Sister Hepzibah (see Blog entry on the Nuns) and I were engaged at one time to be married (momentary lapse of all sanity on my part). Fortunately, it did not work out (Thank You Jesus!!) as Hepzibah felt that she could not give up the pastorate of her little church by the sea with its congregation of Birkenstock-wearing, female construction workers. Also, she felt that her "roommate" Gardenia, provided for all of her needs (read into that what you will). Thus, I was given the boot. She still pastors the church.

My wife is fully aware of this chapter of my life. In fact, she and I had often fantasized about appearing at the little church by the sea some Sunday morning.......with a baby carrier. Well.....soon after Little JJ was born I sent an e-mail announcement to a few select persons at my office. A day or so later I received a congratulatory note from one of the recepients, however, I noticed at the bottom of the e-mail that someone had forwarded it on to a large number of others in the Four Corners organization. When I looked at the first group to which my note had been forwarded I nearly choked with laughter. Someone, I'm not sure who, had forwarded the note to Hepzibah, Gardenia and the rest of the heavy equipment operators and construction workers. The second group of recepients caused almost as much mirth - it was headed up by none other than good old Parson Peasporridge and his wife Hatchet.

Whoever said that "Living well is the best revenge" knew what they were talking about.

Our Christmas Gift

2006-12-17T07:47:00.000-08:00

Our Christmas Gift, little John Joseph "JJ"

Arrived Wednesday, December 13, 2006

at 1:30PM

Weighing in at 7 lbs 9 ozs

and 20 1/2 inches

Rejoice with us.

Zelda Mae

2006-11-29T13:30:00.000-08:00

Being a third generation Pentecostal PK has given me many things, not the least of which is a seemingly bottomless pit of stories. Fortunately or unfortunately, all of them are true. Herewith is one that happened to my Dad.

Dad, as a Pentecostal preacher, pastored his own church but was also called upon periodically to travel to other churches as a guest speaker. As kids, we would go with him if doing so did not conflict with school. If there was a conflict with school we would stay home with Mom or sometimes to go Granny's house if Mom was to acommpany him. One such trip that Dad made was to Muncie, Indiana to be a guest speaker at a revival meeting at a friend's church. This trip, Dad travelled alone. When Dad returned from these trips we usually received some type of little gift from him. Upon returning from this trip, however, Dad had more than just little gifts - he had a rather amusing? story to tell.

These Pentecostal revival services generally were three services in one: The Song Service with Corporate Prayer, Announcements and Offering; The Preaching Service and, The Altar Service. The potential for entertainment in any one of the three was high. One was usually not disappointed.

During the first day of the revival meeting, Dad got a lot more than he was anticipating from it. On the front row of the church, directly in front of the pulpit was seated Sister Zelda Mae. Zelda Mae was in her early 20's and was not exactly a Rhodes Scholar or a member of the Harvard faculty. However, she was somewhat passionate about her religion and at times was given to some highly emotional and physical manefestations of it, as "the spirit moved." In addition to this, she was quite a buxom young lady.

Anyway, during the time of Corporate Prayer, Dad was seated on the platform with his head bowed respectfully. He soon became aware of some type of disturbance on the front row, hearing some vibrating and shaking. He looked up and saw Zelda Mae, seated with her hands in the air, shaking and vibrating. (The church had wooden pews and a hardwood floor) The pew was also vibrating and shaking and looked as though it would come loose from its moorings on the hardwood floor. If that wasn't enough, standing directly behind Zelda Mae was her sister. Sister had her hands stretched out over Zelda Mae's head and was dancing a little jig, in place. She was also rather loudly exhorting Zelda Mae to "Obey the Lord Zelda Mae, Obey the Lord!" Dad, normally in control of situations, nearly lost it and for the life of him could not figure out what the "Lord" was commanding Zelda Mae to do that resulted in such shaking and vibrating.

The time of corporate prayer was over, Dad regained his composure and stood up to preach. Zelda Mae was still seated on the front row directly in front of the pulpit. Zelda Mae was also a young mother, having recently given birth to a set of twins. The babies were there with her on the front row. About midway through Dad's sermon it was dinnertime for the twins. Zelda Mae was nursing. Most young mothers when nursing a child, will go to a discreet, private location to do it. Not Zelda Mae. She, in front of God and everyone, rolled up her sweater, undid her undergarment, flopped 'em both out and fed the twins.

At this point, Dad lost it totally. Unable to continue the sermon he made a long slide into the Altar Service, calling for sinners to come forward and repent.

There are times when I almost miss the Pentecostal church.

Twas Da Night Before Christmas

2006-11-17T08:28:00.000-08:00

Twas da night before Christmas
Da whole house was mella
Not a creature was stirrin'
I had heat under da pilla.

The kids was all nestled snug in der beds
While visions of Lombardi's danced in der heads.
Mamma in her flannel nightie and me in my
Wife Beater T and old Yankees cap
Had just settled down for a long wintas nap.

When up on da roof
I heard some kind of sound
I jumped to da winda to scream,
"Yo, keep it down!"

When what to my bleary eyes should appear
But da Don of all elfs
An' eight friggin reindeer.

With da slicked back hair
An da Prada suit
Don Nicholas was here
An, he had brought out da loot.

Faster than pidgeons
His reindeer dey came
He cussed and he shouted
An' he called them by name.

"Yo, Tony, Yo, Tommy
Yo Raymond, Yo Vinny;
Yo Knuckles, Yo Guido;
Yo Paulie and Vito. "

I drew out my gun
An' hid by da bed.
He came troo da winda
An' slapped me upside da head.

"What da hell are you doin'
Pullin' a gun on da Don?
You not gettin' nuttin,
You friggin Moron!"

Den pointin' his pinky
Right under my nose
He twisted his ring
An' up da chimney he rose.

He sprang to his sleigh
All cussin' an' screamin'
Away dey all flew
As if he had beat 'em.

I then heard him yell out
What I did not expect:
"A friggin' Merry Christmas to all
An' youse better show some respect!"

New York, New York

2006-11-15T06:58:00.000-08:00

"Makin' my plans, packin' my bags

I'm gonna be a part of it.......New York, New York"

Earl y 2007

On The Road With the Golden Girls

2006-10-23T17:24:00.000-07:00

In my career in the business world I have traveled quite a bit; at one point I was logging approximately 100,000 miles per year. All of these trips I took alone, for various and sundry reasons. Gradually the pace has lessened considerably and I take about 2 or 3 per year now and on some I am able to combine business with personal. Such was the case last week.

I had to attend a conference for my job in Kansas City; however there are no direct flights to KC from the little airport closest to my home so I was being routed through Denver. As it happened, my wife's sister, who lives in Denver was visiting for a few days prior to my departure. So it was decided that my wife would fly back with her to Denver and spend a few days visiting and that since I had to go through Denver anyway we would all three fly out together on the same flight. My wife and her sister would stay in Denver and on my way home from Kansas City I would come back through Denver and stay a few days with the family. For the most part everything went smoothly, for the most part.

Anyone who knows my wife and her sister, and their mother as well, can attest to the fact that they are forthright with their views and will not hesitate to address an issue before them. Thus, the foundation was laid for the fun that followed.

All three of us were standing in the line to go through security at the airport. My wife and her sister were a few steps ahead of me. There was a man standing behind me who quite obviously had not flown in a very long time and was somewhat nervous about the impending procedure he was soon to undergo. He asked what was going to happen. Chris, my sister-in-law, turned and with a deadpan expression said:

"Basically, drop 'em, bend over and cough."

The man turned visibly pale and I quietly reassured him that it would not be that bad. Chris turned back around and resumed her conversation with my wife, which had now turned to the subject of footwear, specifically boots. My wife made a comment about getting a pair of steel-toed boots to wear through security. The only portion of the conversation the man standing behind me heard was her comment about wearing steel-toed boots. He turned to me and said:

"Man, she sounds hot. I'd sure like to meet her!"

I nearly choked. Part of me wanted to say back off pal, that's my wife and what's more she's pregnant. However, I didn't, choosing to let him have his fantasy.

By this time, sister-in-law had gotten to the metal detector. Some instructions were issued prior to her going through the machine, however, she rather forthrightly stated that she could see no reason why she should have to comply. For her efforts, she was escorted to a glass enclosure in the center and in front of the entire assemblage given the wand treatment, stem to stern. My wife and I giggled our way through the rest of the process and retrieved Chris' belongings went to the waiting area.

We had just gotten to the waiting area and my wife was settled into a seat reading "Oprah". I glanced across the room and to my horror and shock not 20 feet away stood "Nameless but not Blameless", and with him his master, the Pope. Without thinking I blurted out, somewhat loudly, a certain expletive ("O shirt!") getting my wife's and several other people's attention. Suddenly my visions of a peaceful, enjoyable trip to Denver were being obliterated. I could not imagine having to fly anywhere with those two. (I had actually flown to Dallas a few years ago with those two - the trip was less than pleasant). My wife at first was concerned but then began to giggle at my predicament. However, as I watched, these two began to move rather quickly in the opposite direction. I decided to follow at a discreet distance and determine whether or not they were going to be on our flight. Saints be praised! They moved quickly to the end of the concourse and were the last to board a flight for Portland, OR.

After that our trip proceeded without further mishap. Kansas City was OK. However, Denver and Estes Park were great. We were given the grand tour and a not so subtle sales pitch about how great it would be if we lived in the area as well. No, we are not moving to Colorado.

Complaints

2006-10-11T13:55:00.000-07:00

A new device that I have had installed in my office. The volume of complaints has dropped dramatically, wonder why.

Yehudi

2006-10-10T10:06:00.000-07:00

As I have stated many times before, the TOAD was a collection of unique human beings, some found nowhere else in the known universe. One such person was the organist, Yehudi. Yehudi was a very talented and gifted keyboard player, both piano and organ. She was the darling of certain factions of the TOAD and not nearly so with some of the others. She had been connected with the TOAD and other ecclesiastical venues in the area since the days of "Sister". She was also blessed with an exceedingly high dosage of high self-esteem, considering herself to be the quintessential artiste, deserving of adulation and respect from all lesser life forms.

One day shortly after my ascendancy to the Minister of Music position she called. The purpose of her call, she stated, was to make certain that I was aware of the fact that I had an "Artiste" on my staff. An "Artiste" she further stated that was deserving of respect and deference in all things. She then went on to recite her list of perks and other demands. By this time I was beginning to get a little irritated with the performance, however, I said nothing deciding to let her continue. She then asked me if I had ever had the pleasure of working with a true "artiste"? At this point I resisted all urges to launch into that for which I known, sarcasm. Instead I gave her a recitation of my own credentials; undergraduate and graduate degrees in music from some rather well-known universities, NOT the Pontifical University next door. Also, study with the organist at the Cathedral of St. John the Divine in New York, work at the Cathedral of All Souls, numerous concert tours and performances in such locations as the Dorothy Chandler Pavilion, Seattle Opera House, First Baptist Church, Portland; First Presbyterian Church, Seattle, The Guardian Angel Shrine, Las Vegas, etc. I then capped off the recitation by informing her that I was in the direct pedagogical lineage of Beethoven; I had studied with someone, who studied with someone, etc., etc., all the way back to Beethoven. Basically, I was a musical descendent of Beethoven. "Was she?" I asked. No, she wasn't. She then rather quickly ended the conversation with a "God bless you brother." The subject never came up again.

In addition to her duties as the official TOAD organist, Yehudi also functioned, periodically, as the accompanist for the Choir (another story in itself, for later) Peaseporridge would never allow me to hire an accompanist strictly for the choir, I had to use Yehudi. For the most part the arrangement worked, however, there were some notable exceptions when it didn't.

One fine Sunday morning, Yehudi was to accompany the choir in their anthem. She had dutifully appeared at the Thursday rehearsal as well as the Sunday morning warm-up; everything was fine, so I thought.

The services at the TOAD, broadcast live on the radio, were always timed, sort of, to minimize any dead air space. When it came time for the choir to sing I would have to move from one side of the church to the choir loft on the other side. During this movement, Hatchet Peaseporridge would make the announcements, usually the variety of "We are rejoicing this week, so and so has been promoted to glory." "Promotion to glory" was a fairly regular occurrence in the octogenarian congregation which would be announced by Hatchet in her nasal, hillbilly twang. By the time the announcements were finished I would be at my appointed spot to direct the singers and Yehudi would have moved to the piano adjacent to the choir loft. However, on this particular Sunday things did not quite work out that way.

Hatchet launched into her announcements, I moved and got into position. However, there was no Yehudi. I glanced around to see if she were moving anywhere but did not see her. I figured at this point she might still be back stage and would make a grand entrance once Hatchet had finished (as an "artiste" she sometimes did this). The announcements were finished, Parson Peaseporridge got up to announce the Choir song and still no Yehudi. He finished, turned to me and I looked back to him and pointed to the vacant piano bench. He fumbled through some one-liners to cover the dead air space. It was then that I heard the sound of someone snoring on the other side of the church. (The acoustics of the TOAD at this time were quite lively)

Yehudi, the artiste, had fallen into a deep sleep and was snoring rather loudly. Hatchet also had surmised what was happening and flew from her perch on the platform down to where Yehudi was enjoying her Sunday morning snooze (this nap usually took place during the Sermon) Hatchet tapped her on the shoulder and with a shout Yehudi woke up. All this was captured for those out there in radioland. Yehudi, then realizing what was or was not transpiring bolted from her seat and flew to the other side of the sanctuary where the choir and I were waiting. Her flight was accompanied by ripples of laughter from the congregation. I ended the choir performance with a rather sore lip from biting down hard to keep from dissolving into hyterics.

Just another fun day at the TOAD.

The Jericho March

2006-09-22T08:28:00.000-07:00

The TOAD, as a Pentecostal Circus, was virtually without equal. However, there were a couple of locations that came in a close second. One such location was a church located in a section of town referred to as Billy Goat Acres. The church was almost as old as the TOAD, however, it's congregation was not as eclectic as that of the TOAD. This particular section of town had, during the 1930's, seen a great influx of refugees from the Dust Bowl, Okies and Arkies. Most had remained in the area along with a number of their offspring. They brought their culture with them and populated this particular church. Their preferred style of worship was something between a hootenanny and a hoedown. Thus, this church developed a reputation for wild and unfettered "worship".

The pastor was a good 'ol boy from Oklahoma, who upon moving to California, decided that he needed a new look. So he went out a bought several new suits, all plaid; and as he was bald, a wig. Quite a sight. The music rocked. They had an old Hammond B-3 with a Leslie speaker and an organist that got down. Together with the drums and piano they produced a sound not unlike some of the best jazz clubs. This inspired the congregation to some interesting experssions of "worship".

The congregation, being largely Okie and Arkie, were from a culture that allowed for the free expression of ones' impulses during a Worship service. This resulted in the aforementioned hootenanny/hoedown atmosphere. One such expression, and one that I have never quite figured out, was the Jericho March.

This was a spontaneous expression of some sort usually started by one or two persons at some point in the service. They would suddenly feel the need to "march" and would start processing around the Sanctuary, others would join in as they felt led to do so and soon most of the congregation would be prancing around the church with some shaking, others rattling and still others rolling. The time that I visited this location I was privileged to witness one of these.

It was colorful, to say the least.

The music got going and the congregation started moving. One sister decided that she could not participate with her shoes on. So, she removed them, however she did want to carry them as she boogied her way around the church. She spotted her husband seated near the rear of the church; he had not felt led to march. She called out to him and got his attention. I looked up just in time to see the shoes fly over my head. The lady was a good pitcher, the shoes hit their mark - her husband on top his head. At this point I began to struggle to maintain some semblence of composure. It was a lost cause.

As the music increased in tempo and volume the pace of the march also increased - to the point that it began to resemble a hillbilly marathon. One brother led the pack - he was way out in front and jogging at rather good clip. However, he was so caught up in the "march" that he did not pay attention to where he was going. As he was coming down one of the side aisles he failed to make the turn in the front of the Sanctuary and ran, full force, into a brick wall.

The wall did not budge. However, the brother was knocked out cold. At this point I gave up all attempts to maintain any composure and dissolved into hysterics. I left as the paramedics arrived.

Nameless but not blameless

2006-09-18T20:52:00.000-07:00

A couple of weeks ago the wife of my good buddy, Scott, published a blog about a nameless but not blameless character. I also am well acquainted with this person. While searching the archives at the Holy See I was able to secure a photo of this person, together with some of his fellow Klansmen, enjoying a hot tub soak after a rigorous game of tiddlywinks. Herewith, for your viewing pleasure is the man himself:

Between the Sheets, Part Deux

2006-09-14T12:53:00.000-07:00

My lovely wife last night after reading my previous Blog entry felt that the mainline, liturgical churches had been slighted in the Between The Sheets Game. I tried to reason with her stating that the Pentecostal hymnal was, by far, the more entertaining. However, wanting to be fair and open minded in this regard I checked with a Mainline/Liturgical hymn source and submit the following. For you dear!

1. Come Ye Faithful, Raise The Strain
2. Be Still and Know
3. Christians Awake
4. Let All Mortal Flesh Keep Silent
5. Dies Irae (Day of Wrath O Dreadful Day)
6. May The Angels Lead You Into Paradise
7. Hail The Day That Sees Him Rise
8. Wachet Auf Ruft uns die Stimme
9. Wie Schon Lichtet der Morgenstern (mit umlaut)
10. Once In Royal David's City
11. Forty Days and Forty Nights
12. For All The Saints

Between The Sheets

2006-08-29T07:27:00.000-07:00

Growing up as a PK in the Pentecostal church meant that my siblings and I spent a large amount of our time in church. There was the Sunday Morning Worship Servvice, the Crusader (youth) Hour, the Evening Evangelistic Service, Wednesday Night and Friday Night and of course, the periodic "Revival Meetings", in which Dad would secure the services of some hot shot preacher for a week or two of services every night. In addition to this Dad was called upon to be a guest speaker in other churches as well, and of course, his little angels went with him. We were expected to sit still, pay attention and generally behave during these services. Most of the time we did, although there were one or two instances in which our Mom left the service, swearing to not go back to church until her children were all in their 20's, and out of the house.

We were not allowed to take books, toys, GameBoys, etc., to church. We were expected to sit still and pay attention. This could be accomplished for about 10 minutes, after that boredom would set in. My brother and I put our creative minds to the task of developing entertainment for ourselves being mindful of the all seeing eyes of our mother and father. One of the games we played was called "Between the Sheets". This was played with the church hymnal. We would sit there with heads bowed thumbing through the hymnal and giving the appearance of piety and good behavior. However, what we were actually doing was taking each hymn title and after it adding the phrase "Between The Sheets". It was quite entertaining and amusing, although one had to be careful not to laugh out loud. That would bring immediate parental attention, a snatching of the hymnal and a stern admonition to behave....or else!

Some of the titles from the Pentecostal church hymnal became quite amusing phrases, others, X-rated. Herewith are some of the titles that when coupled with "Between The Sheets" became quite amusing:

1. It's A Grand And Glorious Feeling

2. Everybody Will Be Happy Over There

3. Sailing Home

4. My Lord Will Make A Way

5. Heaven In My Soul

6. It Is Mine

7. Victory Ahead

8. 'Tis Burning in My Soul

9. Preach the Foursquare Gospel

10. Preach the Word

11. The Fight Is On

12. Foursquare Crusader Youth Are We

13. Heavenly Sunlight

14. There Is Sunshine In My Soul

15. Just A Little While

These hymns are all real - nothing was made up, folks.

New FourCorners Church

2006-08-23T12:40:00.000-07:00

What else can I say?

Marvin and Mavis

2006-08-22T10:17:00.000-07:00

In the lineup of unique and unusal creatures at the TOAD, Marvin and Mavis probably stood somewhere near the top. They were quite a pair and quite a sight.

Mavis, in her mid 60's had been a bag lady living on the street when she first started attending the TOAD. She looked and acted the part, being skinny as a rail, with harsh features and long, straight iron-gray hair. She kind of reminded one of a witch. Through the generosity of some in the TOAD she was able to get her life together, sort of. She found religion, cleaned up her act and became a genuine, bona-fide charismaniac and prophetess. Her place, at every service, was front row, center. She managed to push Elvis (another story for later) out of his position there and convince him that he belonged at the end of the row. Every service, rain or shine, Mavis was on the front row engaging in various acrobatics and movements as the "spirit" led her. She and Elvis made quite a chorus line.

Seated at the other end of the front row was Marvin. Marvin was about the same age as Mavis, however, he had never lived on the streets. He had a small, church-supplied apartment near the TOAD and subsisted on General Relief and disability payments. Mentally, Marvin was not exactly MENSA material, physically, he had weak legs which limited his mobility somewhat. Nonetheless, every service found him at the other end of the front row. The front row was quite a combination with Marvin at one end, Mavis in the middle and Elvis at the other end.

One fine day, Marvin's eyes met those of Mavis across the row. It was love at first sight, or a reasonable facsimile thereof. A relationship soon developed, however, the motiviation of each for going into it was somewhat different. Mavis was looking for a home, security and a meal ticket; she had gotten the idea that Marvin had money. Marvin, on the other hand, was looking for love, companionship and canoodling, not necessarily in that order. Their engagement was soon announced and the marriage followed shortly thereafter. With the marriage, Marvin moved to the center of the front row, Mavis moved into Marvin's apartment and Elvis stayed where he had been placed by Mavis.

The front row center of the TOAD became the happening place. Mavis continued her acrobatics and jumping jacks during the service. Marvin, although he did not have the mobility of Mavis, attempted to keep up. He was rather roly-poly and the best he could manage was to bounce up and down on his legs. The sight was reminiscent of Clement Clark Moore's "Bowl full of jelly" in "Twas the Night Before Christmas." When those two were in action I soon learned to never look in their direction for fear that I would lose it totally.

However, that was not the real entertainment provided by these two. That came during the sermon when they sat down. In the early days of their marriage, Marvin and Mavis were deeply in love with each other, or, as some of the pundits of the TOAD stated, very much in heat. During the sermon they would engage in expressions of their love/heat for each other. The scene would start with some tender pats and hand holding and then progress to some intense ear and neck nuzzling by Marvin. We shall draw a curtain of charity over the ensuing Russian and Roman portions of this scene. These two would go at it all through the sermon, totally oblivious to everything else and anyone who might have been seated near them. An entertaining show was always guaranteed at the TOAD.

To the delight of some and regret of others, this relationship did not last. Mavis soon learned that Marvin did not have all the wealth that she had been led to believe. She split - leaving both him and the church. Our show was over.

News from FourCorners

2006-08-21T12:45:00.000-07:00

Working at the Holy See of the FourCorners one gets to see a wide variety of personages coming through. This morning some of the current and former members of the TOAD toured the premises. They left some souvenir photos of themselves, presented here for your edification and comment.

The Youth Group, the Associate pastor and his family and of course, Sister Hepzibah, a former member who has obviously gone on to better things.

Commentary....................

The Van

2006-08-07T17:59:00.000-07:00

The TOAD was unique in many strange and unusual ways. None was more unusual than the fact that it was actually about six churches in one; the English-speaking congregation, the Spanish, Bulgarian, Russian, Korean and the Indonesian. Each group had its own pastor and location within the complex. The Indonesian congregation was pastored by Rev. Bitticaca with his assistant Rev. Shittagong (Their real names folks, I could not make this stuff up) Anyway, Parson Peasporridge considered it to be a feather in his cap that so many ethnic groups got along in perfect harmony, a little taste of heaven folks. Actually they did not get along all that well, but Peaseporridge was oblivious to it.

The Spanish congregation was the largest and pretty much mirrored the English side in its proportion of normal to wacko. It was during this period of time that I, suffering a momentary lapse of sanity, occupied an apartment next door to the church, right next to the building occupied by the Spanish congregation. It was convenient in a weird sort of way and the close proximity to the church provided an unending source of entertainment. Several of my not so spiritual and spiritual friends always enjoyed coming over for the show, they were seldom disappointed. The good Father from my current parish came down one Saturday morning and prayed a blessing of my apartment.

One fine Saturday morning, I was seated out on the balcony of my apartment having a cup of Cappuccino and watching the procession of characters. The Spanish congregation appeared to be gathering for some sort of meeting. Several were standing out on the sidewalk chattering away. Soon, one of their group, Hermano Roberto came driving up in a rather late model van and parked directly in front of the church building - which was a posted "No Parking" zone.

Hermano got out of the van with a big smile on his face and the group gathered around the van excitedly. He said he parked there because he wanted all his brothers and sisters to see how the Lord had blessed him. He had been praying, he reminded them, that the Lord would provide transportation for him and his family. God had answered his prayers, the group all expressed their assent with loud "Amens" and "Gloria Dios!"

Hermano went on to tell the story of his blessing. The previous evening one of his neighbors had approached him telling that he knew someone who had a van to sell. The van needed to be sold quickly and Hermano could get it cheaply. Hermano made an offer of $200 for the vehicle and, to his surprise, it was accepted. And whats more, he could take delivery immediately. No mention was made of a title transfer.

At this bit of news the group gathered on the sidewalk launched into another chorus of "Amens" and "Gloria Dios!" and "See how God is blessing you brother?" Someone then went in and called the rest of the group out to see the miracle that had occurred in Hermano's life. They then formed a circle around the van, laid hands on it and prayed for it. They thanked God for this great blessing He had bestowed on Hermano and asked that Hermano would have it a long time and it be kept in perfect running order. When the prayers were finished the entire group went inside for their meeting.

I thought that the show was over and also started to go in. However, the sight of the Parking Control car making its way up the street and headed straight for the van caught my eye and I decided to stay and watch Act II. I'm glad that I did. As I mentioned earlier Hermano had parked the van in the "No Parking" zone directly in front of the building. As I suspected would happen, the Parking Control person got out and punched in the license number and began writing out a citation. However he soon stopped and made a call on his cell phone. I was now intrigued by this turn of events and remained on my perch on the balcony.

About two minutes later a police cruiser showed up and the officer got out and spoke briefly with the Parking Control person. (Everyone in the church was totally oblivious to what was transpiring outside with Hermano's van) About thirty seconds later a tow truck showed up, hooked up the van and drove off. The sound of the tow truck hooking up the van attracted the attention of one or two in the church and they came out to investigate.

The Lord, it seems, had blessed Hermano with a "hot" van.

After the tow truck left, so did I not wanting to see the conclusion with it's theological implications.

An Unsung Hero

2006-07-25T13:38:00.000-07:00

My brother, Scott, in his public-spirited blog entries on alligators, fingers, phrases, etc., has inspired me to to also attempt some public good through this humble mode of communication. I submit for your consideration the person of Sir Thomas Crapper - a resident of London around the end of the 19th century. Sir Thomas was an inventor, of sorts. Although he did not leave a large output of devices and gadgets as did Thomas Edison or George Eastman, nonetheless, he made a major contribution to our ease, well-being and convenience.

Sir Thomas lived during the Industrial Age and the Age of Invention; a period of time when all sorts of devices, gadgets and machines were coming on the scene to make life easier. Of all the inventions coming at this time in history, none received wider acceptance than Sir Thomas' modest contribution to modern life. Everyone from the King at Buckingham Palace to the lowest working-class flat had at least one of Sir. Thomas' inventions on the premises.

Sir Thomas Crapper was the inventor of the modern flush toilet. When the device first hit the market there was some controversy over what to call it. A lot of inventions bore the name of their inventor, the Ford, the Zamboni, the Eastman Kodak camera, etc. Thus, for a period of time Sir Thomas' invention was referred to as the "Crapper". However, marketing research soon learned that this name did not have the up-scale appeal they desired so the name was changed; for a time it became known as the "John" in honor or HRH Prince John. Still, this name did not have the market appeal they were hoping for. So. once again, the name of Sir Thomas' invenition was changed.

This time a name was borrowed from the French language for a period of time/process usually in the morning when refined ladies and gentlemen, dressed, washed, powdered their wigs and took care of business - the "Grand Toilette". Sir Thomas' invention became known as the "Toilette" or more commonly the "toilet." Sir Thomas went on and started a very successful plumbing company in London - Thomas Crapper Plumbing, Ltd.

Where would we be without Sir Thomas.

The Church Ladies

2006-07-11T07:34:00.000-07:00

The TOAD, as I have often stated in the past, was a collection of unique individuals, some found nowhere else on planet earth. Some of these persons managed to organize themselves into quasi-cohesive groups for the purpose of mutual edification and support. Once such group was the "Circle of Love" ladies group, or 'The Church Ladies." This group had been started by the founder of the TOAD, "Sister" during the Depression era of the 1930's as a relief organization providing clothing and blankets for babies and assistance to mothers and others in need. They also made the "Uniforms" worn by the female members of the clergy at the TOAD - white cotton dress, mid-calf length, blue cape and, of course, the "Shield" This was an attempt to emulate the regalia worn by "Sister" as she performed her sacramental duties. As time wore on, however, the Church Ladies veered a considerable distance away from their original mission. By the time of my arrival at the TOAD they bore little resemblence to the original group started in the 1930's.

When I arrived at the TOAD the Church Ladies were ruled by Hatchette Peaseporridge, wife of the good parson. Hatchette was assisted in this by a couple of her favored minions. At this point in time, the "Circle" was actually a collection of 3 or 4 factions who were frequently at each others' throats. No one was quite sure as to what the exact mission of this group was. One fine day, the male leadership attempted to bring this group into line with the mission of the church as a whole. This would have included a name change and having their finances run through the church accounting department. This effort was a spectacular failure. Hatchette and her minions basically sliced up the hapless males for this attempt. After this the school of barracudas was pretty much left alone until there was a complete change in leadership at the church in 1999.

One of the "ministries" of the Circle of Love was ostensibly prayer - for the state of the world, for the ministry of the church and, of course, prayer for personal needs. It was in this last area that the "Circle/Church Ladies" excelled. They loved nothing more than to have a prayer and share session for some poor soul's "personal needs". No one was immune. They would serve up a shovel full of dirt on some poor soul prefaced with "I tell you this so you will know how to pray" or "So that God can be made aware of this."

Another one of their "ministries" was the monthly Sunday luncheon they held at a rather ancient venue in Pasadena. Each month, it was their tradition to invite various staff members to be their guests, basically a free lunch. One fine Sunday it was my turn. Little did I realize the treat that was in store for me.

The Church Ladies was comprised of about 3 or 4 factions, none of whom cared much for the other. As the lunch progressed this became quite evident.

The leaders of the various factions were Monette, Myrtle and Harriet. Each had strongly held and freely expressed opinions on virtually every subject and person of the church. Each of these had been on the earth at least three-score and ten years and were quite colorful.

Midway through lunch Monette, seated on the other side of the room, stood up and yelled at me, "Do you teach piano?" When I stated that I did she then replied "Will please take some time and give Ichabod some lessons" (Ichabod was still on the scene at this time and was NOT a favorite of this group).

Upon hearing this Harriet, seated in the rear of the room stood up and shaking her cane at Monette admonished her to "Sit down and shut up" as she did not know what she was talking about. Harriet then launched into a diatribe on the piano offertory played by Yehudi that morning - a rather rousing medly of old gospel hymns. She had not liked it and said so.

Myrtle and her group had a different opinion. Standing and shaking her cane at Harriet, Myrtle begged Harriet's pardon, as she, Myrtle had not realized that is was Harriet who had made the last mortgage payment on the Temple which had given her the right to pontificate on everything.

Harriet by now was turning red with anger and, shaking her cane at both Monette and Myrtle told them both to keep their mouths shut as neither had the slightest idea of what they were talking about. At this a buzz ensued among the various factions. I sat back eagerly anticipating a Three Stooges-type pie throwing event. However, Sister Daffodil, one of Hatchette's henchmen acted as referee and brokered a temporary truce among the warring factions.

Soon thereafter, I left for home, somewhat disappointed.

Yet Another Poem

2006-07-10T18:45:00.000-07:00

Mary had a little watch,
She swallowed it one day
The doctor gave her Ex-Lax
To pass the time away

The days did come
The days did go
The watch, it would not pass
Now, when you want to know the time
You look up Mary's..................................uncle! He's got one too!

PEE WEE'S BIG ADVENTURE

2006-07-07T10:48:00.000-07:00

When I got married a couple of years I ago, in additoin to a lovely wife I also got two cats, Pee Wee and Herman. A male and female respectively. A friend of my wife's had rescued them as new born kittens from a homicide scene in New York city. From these humble beginnings, the cats have now landed in gravy - and they know it.

Pee Wee, the female, is the more adventuresome of the two. She has an unending fascination with nature in general and birds in particular. Her fondest wish is to get up close and personal with a bird. Although I doubt that the bird would feel the same way. I have often thought that it would be interesting if she could spend some quality time with Kimo, the bird dog, who lives up the hill from us. Kimo's owner assures me that Kimo would enjoy the encounter.

One morning Pee Wee was sunning herself in the den while I was eating breakfast. All of sudden I saw her go into a hunting/stalking stance. Looking out on the patio, I saw the reason - about 10 birds had landed and were chattering noisily. They had Pee Wee's undivided attention.

Pee Wee figured that things just couldn't get any better - her fondest wish, a close encounter with a bird, was about to come true. One of the birds had even landed very close to the patio door. Pee Wee saw this and immediately went into her stalking stance and prepared to move. When she thought the time was right she leaped through the air towards the bird, intending to have a feast. However, Pee Wee had forgotten one minor factor - the patio door, a rather large thick pane of glass, was closed.

All of a sudden I heard a loud "thud" as Pee Wee's head made contact with the glass door. Upon hearing the "thud" all the birds flew away. The next sound was a long, low, mournful "maowwwww" as Pee Wee skulked off nursing what had to be a horrendous headache. Adding insult to injury, she had also frightened all the birds off.

We saw almost nothing of Pee Wee over the next two days.

A Poem

2006-06-22T14:30:00.000-07:00

I love its gentle warble
I love its gentle flow
I love to wind my mouth up;
And love to let it go.

or as the Circle of Love at the TOAD would say:

"If you can't say something nice about someone,
come.........sit next to me."

The Nuns

2006-05-30T10:27:00.000-07:00

At the TOAD was a fairly large group of women who had dedicated themselves to Christian ministry and also to a life of celibacy. In so doing they thought that they were emulating the life of the founder of the TOAD, "Sister." However, they had forgotten or were completely ignoring the fact that "Sister" had been anything but celibate. "Sister" had been married three times and divorced twice. Indeed, her third marriage and divorce had split the church. This little fact seemed to have been conveniently forgotten.

This group of women were affectionately and sarcastically referred to as "The Nuns." They believed that putting their personal happiness and satisfaction behind ministry offered no higher rewards and fulfillment. Thus, they actively propagated their life style of ministry and celibacy. Many embraced it, although some came to regret it later in life. However, unlike real nuns they did not take vows of poverty chastity and obedience. Just chastity. Although some members of the order were rumored to be same-sex oriented. This was neither conclusively proven nor disproved, in one or two cases circumstantial evidence was powerful, though. Obedience and submission, particularly to a male, and poverty in any form were not part of the lifestyle either.

All of the nuns were colorful and unique persons. However, one member of the order stands out from the rest, Sister Hepzibah. Sister Hepzibah had been a member of the TOAD's music department and was rumored to be one of the younger nuns. One day she decided that it was time to branch out and expand her ministry. She contacted what passes for a Bishop in that particular communion and convinced him to give her a senior pastor position at small church near the coast. All of the nuns, from the mothers superior on down, applauded this move.

A few weeks into her pastorate good old Parson Peasporridge decided that it would be a good idea for the staff of the TOAD to show their support for this endeavor and attend a special service that Hepzibah was having. We all trouped down to the little church by the sea for the event. At the beginning of the service, her worship leader, a good 'ol boy like Peasporridge, stood up to offer a prayer:

"O Lord", he intoned, "We thank thee for our pastor, even though she is a woman, she has wisdom."

At that point, I totally lost it and have no recollection of what transpired afterward.

Shortly thereafter, Hepzibah come to the conclusion that the church parsonage was too big for just one person and decided to get a roommate. She found one; one of the other nuns that was working with her in the "ministry." Unlike most of the nuns, Hepzibah's roommate, Gardenia, actually worked in the real world. She was a heavy equipment operator on construction sites and looked, acted and dressed the part. About the only accoutrement she didn't have was a five o'clock shadow.

The little church maintained its attendance numbers. However, in time, the old adage "like attracts like" was proven correct.

One fine day Sister Hepzibah decided that she wanted to experience more of life and developed a relationship with a man. A poor, misguided soul suffering from a temporary lapse of sanity, good judgement and discernment. The engagement was announced with a tremendous amount of fanfare, both at the TOAD and at her little church. The nuns, Gardenia in particular, were furious. Gardenia played the jilted lover part to the hilt. Some of the older nuns went to Hepzibah and told her how disappointed they were that she was giving up ministry for marriage. They were incensed that she was giving up a senior pastor position for marriage, marriage to a man. To their way of thinking, a grave, mortal sin.

None the less, Sister Hepzibah, continued with her plans for the marriage. The event was to be one that would rival anything that the Windsors of England could do. The guest list boasted approximately 1,000 names. Hepzibah had invited about 10 of her sisters in the order to be bridesmaids, or more appropriately, bridesnuns. The mother superior and a couple of the older nuns were to officiate at the ceremony; it was rumored that these older nuns were having special habits made for the ceremony. Gardenia was to be the maid of honor; she had accepted this role with great reluctance. In lieu of flowers, the bridesmaids were to carry white Bibles in leatherette covers. Hepzibah, herself, was to carry a larger white Bible in a leatherette cover.
(Imagine the injury that this might have caused when thrown at the reception). The reception was to have been two events. First a cake,punch and coffee event for about 1,000, followed by a full course dinner for approximately 500, the entire order of nuns and others.

The nuns, however, did not give up their fight. The continued working on Hepzibah until they had her convinced that their position was the only right one. She then delivered an ultimatum to the man basically stating that he would have to be Mr. Hepzibah. By this time, common sense, sanity and good judgment had returned and the man declined. Sister Hepzibah then informed him that they had no future together. The man rejoiced.

A few years later, a mutual acquaintance of the man and Hepzibah asked the man where he thought he would be if the marriage had gone through. Without hesitation he replied:

"Serving time in San Quentin for homicide"

Mozart, Bach & Mendelssohn......At the TOAD

2006-05-26T09:56:00.001-07:00

In the early days of the TOAD, its Music and Drama program was renowned for its artistic and technical excellence, the programs rivaled the best that Hollywood could produce. It was rumored that such Hollywood notables as Charlie Chaplin, Mary Pickford, Douglas Fairbanks and others lent their expertise, both artistic and technical, to various productions. It is a known fact that Anthony Quinn was a member of the band and Milton Berle was also rumored to have been involved. The music library bore testament to this excellence with such works as Messiah, Elijah and Gloria In Excelcis by Handel, Mendelssohn and Mozart, respectively. The scores, both instrumental and choral, bore evidence of extensive use.

However, by the time of my arrival on the scene some 70 years later, things had changed somewhat. The music program that I inheirited was kind of a combination Gong Show/Hee Haw thanks to the efforts of Ichabod and the interference of Hatchet (aka Mrs. Peasporridge). Some attempts were made to recapture the past glory of the music program; some were slightly successful. Others, resulted in a spectacular crash and burn.

One of the more interesting attempts to return to past glory occurred one memorable Sunday morning. Sister Phoebe, a member of the choir and a self-proclaimed coloratura soloist, was asked to favor the congregation with a solo. She complied, choosing an aria from Mendelssohn's Elijah. I was chosen to accompany her on the piano. This particular selection was somewhat out of her vocal range and a little beyond the limit of her technical abilities. The performance was not well-received, particularly by Hatchet. Although, Sister Phoebe was spared from ever knowing this.

A couple of days later a curt note was received from Hatchet decreeing that henceforth and forevermore there would be no more "Classical" music at the TOAD, world without end, Amen. Her stated reason to me was "We caint worship with Moe Zart." To her, the epitome of musical expression was Rufus King and the Klansmen Gospel Quartet.

I took this moratorium on classical music as a challenge and decided to see just how much "Classical" music I could inject into the services. My efforts were successful and Hatchet was none the wiser. My first effort was with the Choir, a rather simple setting of the Kyrie became "Lord, Have Mercy". A large contingent of the vocal members of the Victory Class loved it and said so. Parson Peasporridge, whom they had by the 'nads, said nothing.

This encouraged me to expand this "ministry". I next moved into the realm of piano music. It was part of my duties to provide a piano or organ solo for the offertory twice a month. I began experimenting and soon learned that almost anything coupled with a favorite hymn or a song by Sister was acceptable. The vocal members of the Victory Class loved it and through their firm grip on Peasporridge's 'nads, neutralized any opposition. Thus, the following repetoire was developed:

"Moment by Moment" segued into Etude in Ab, Opus 25 by Chopin

"Holy and Righteous Father" segued into Allegro, Piano Concerto #3 by Rachmaninov

"Come to the Savior" segued into Prelude in G from Das Woltiempered Klavier, by Bach

"Love Divine" segued into Ein Fremder Mann by Schumann

"My Faith Has Found A Resting Place" segued into Pavane by Ravel

and, the piece de resistance:

"Sunlight In My Soul" segued into Swipsey by Scott Joplin

An honest confession is good for the soul.

Casanova

2006-05-22T18:24:00.000-07:00

Another one of the more unique creatures to be found at the TOAD was Casanova. Casanova was the teacher of the largest adult Bible classes, the one that met in the church sanctuary every Sunday morning. The one for whom all music activities had to cease at 9:15AM, Sharp!

This particular class had been organized by the illustrious founder of the church during the early days of World War II, hence the name, the Victory Class. Quite a number of the attendees of this class had been there from the beginning, thus this group had a certain amount of clout within the TOAD. Its' members were also the "Big Givers" in the church; when they spoke Peasporridge listened. They spoke frequently and on a wide variety of subjects, some within the scope of their area of knowledge, others, well outside the boundaries. Upon being given the teaching assignment of this class, Casanova had landed in gravy - so he thought.

In addition, Casanova considered himiself to be the quintessential "ladies man", a specimen of manhood that no woman in her right mind could resist. In addition to all of his charms, he had the clout of the Victory Class behind him, this made him a real mover and shaker in the church world - at least in his own mind.

That fact that he was already married never seemed to bother Casanova; all members of the fair sex were fair game. This was true both at church and at his workplace. Casanova worked at a place known as the "Nut House", not a psycho ward but a processing plant for peanuts, walnuts, pistacios, etc. At this location there was a certain lady for whom he had tender feelings. The feelings were not mutual as the lady was married and considered him to be the quintessential geek. To make things more interesting, Casanova and the lady knew virtually nothing of each other's lives outside of work. She did not know where he attended church; he was totally unaware of her connections to that church. None the less, his unrequited pursuit continued.

There were also some other ladies at the TOAD for whom Casanova had feelings as well. One or two went so far as to complain to Peasporridge. However, Peasporridge, not wanting to offend a major source of his funding, did nothing.

One fine Sunday morning, the lady from Casanova's work decided to visit the TOAD. She arrived just as the class was dismissing and almost fainted when she recognized Casanova as the teacher. She approached him and at first he did not recognize her as she was not wearing her lab coat and head covering. (she worked in the QC lab, he worked in production) However, soon the dawn of recognition came and he almost dropped his teeth in shock.

To his way of thinking this was just too good to be true; his influence had worked. The objectof his affection had become a Christian and was going to attend his church. It didn't get any better than that. He inquired as to the reason for her visit and for the second time that morning nearly dropped his teeth.

The lady informed him that she was there that morning to visit a member of her family who was on staff. Casanova thought by now that he was dreaming, this was too good. He reasoned with his "clout" with the church he now had an inside track to the lady, she would not be able to resist his charms now.

However, he soon learned this was not to be the case. The lady was there to visit her son, the Music Director, me. He found no assistance in his pursuit.

About three years after my father passed, my mother remarried. It was my great pleasure to inform Casanova of this development. Upon learning of this he sank into a deep depression. The wages of sin, what can I say?

FREE CATS

2006-05-10T16:44:00.000-07:00

Free - 2 Cats (male and female) brother/ sister to good home.
Spayed/neutered
Affectionate, house cats, polite with their claws, non-scratcher on furniture.
Cats approximately 10 years old.

The Foursquare Patron Saint

2006-04-29T11:30:00.000-07:00

The Foursquare Patron Saint, her name is Saint Dymphna - the patron Saint of nervous disorders and mental disease.

Slap & Tickle

2006-04-13T11:27:00.000-07:00

Ichabod, the music director at the TOAD in the early days of my tenure there finally found a woman who recognized his many giftings and abilities. Furthermore, this vision in skirts, agreed to marry him and moved from her home in upstate New York to Southern California to await the happy day to share and help Ichabod with his "Ministry". Miss Hemma Rhoid, proved to be Ichabod's equal in every respect - according to the pundits at the TOAD, these two "truly deserved each other". With her arrival on the scene a reign of terror ensued for all involved in the Music department that culminated in Ichabod being strongly encouraged to depart about 3 months after the nuptials and take his wife and ministry elsewhere. In the meantime, however, things got interesting.

Ichabod and Hemma were like two giddy teen-agers, firmly convinced that they were the first couple to discover love and everything else that went with it. Everyone at the TOAD was frequently treated to their public expressions of love and lust for each other, much to the irritation of almost everyone. In addition, the church now had to deal with a female version of Ichabod, it was almost too much for everyone. Ichabod and Hemma were totally oblivious to almost everything except each other. This was to be illustrated quite graphically one day.

Across the street from the TOAD is located the "Headquarters" of the denomination sometimes referred to as the "Holy See" or Mecca, home to the Ayatollah and Mullahs. The TOAD had negotiated with the Holy See to use their parking structure for services in the evenings and on weekends. Ichabod and Hemma parked their vehicles there and one fine day left the TOAD to go and retrieve one of their vehicles for a trip out.

The building is on a hill and has three different lobby entrances. Ichabod and Hemma chose to enter through the lowest level of the building and take the elevator to the level where their car was parked. They entered the lobby, which was deserted at the time. Being totally enraptured in each other and thinking themselves totally alone, they engaged in a vigorous game of slap & tickle and grabass for several minutes prior to pushing the button to call the elevator. What they failed to notice was the two security cameras at either end of the lobby.

The security desk, two levels up, was manned at that time by Rick, who attended the TOAD and was no fan of Ichabods or Hemma either. He had been insulted more than once by Ichabod. Now, Rick, as a good security officer, was alert to all the screens in front of him at the desk. The moment he saw Ichabod and Hemma enter, he focused his full attention on the Lower level lobby screens. He was not to be disappointed. When the game of slap & tickle and grabass ensued, Rick gleefully made certain that the cameras were recording this auspicious occasion. They were.

A couple of days later I received a call from Rick inviting me to a special "screening" to be held at the TOAD during lunch. Curious as to what he could be screening I went. When I entered the room there were several other equally jaded souls there all anticipating the treat that was in store for us. As Rick played the video, we all dissolved into laughter. As luck would have it, Ichabod and Hemma were down the hall and hearing the mirth and merrymaking came in to investigate. Rick obligingly played the video for them. A look of horror came over both of their faces and Hemma let out a scream and ran from the room. Ichabod turned several shades of bright red, said nothing and beat a hasty retreat.

It was about two weeks before either Ichabod or Hemma spoke to any of us who were in the room. Blessed quietness. However, from that moment on they did restrain their passions - somewhat.

Sunday Nights at the TOAD

2006-04-03T10:53:00.000-07:00

While the TOAD was not a liturgical church, it did have a certain ritual and form that it followed, almost without exception every week. One of the rites that occurred every Sunday night was that of Water Baptism. The TOAD believed that as an outward sign of an inward change every believer should be baptized in water - by immersion. This rite was performed every Sunday night at the beginning of the Evening Service. The number of candidates varied. Good old Parson Peasporridge would also allow other churches to baptize their candidates as well. In addition this portion of the serivce was also "live" on the air and it was my job to provide some type of background music so that there would be no "dead air space"; if there was dead air time, we might lose our radio audience. What a tragedy that would have been.

The individual who ran the commissary was something of a patronizing little weasel, constantly ingratiating himself with Peasporridge and the other powers. He was frequently criticized by some of the other ethnic groups in the church for favoring his own group with the choicest goodies that the commissary offered. This may or may not have been true - however circumstances could be a powerful force at times. Such was the case, one weekend when he obtained a rather large shipment of ice cream -in 5-gallon containers. The word went out to his people that all who would be baptized this coming Sunday night would receive 5-gallons of ice cream. His people responded - 45 of them! All showed up at the appointed time to be baptized and receive their ice cream. I might also point out that prior to this, none of these people had been to the church; after they received their ice cream, none returned.

Anyway, Sunday night arrived and the group, all 45 of them, showed up to be baptized and collect their ice cream. Peasporridge was ecstatic at this large number entering the "Kingdom"
and was all a-twitter. As I said earlier, it was my duty to provide background music for this rite of passage, which I did. My normal MO for this would be to do some quiet improvisation on a church melody. However, this particular night, as the seemingly endless procession of baptisimal candidates inched their way through the tank, I became somewhat bored and decided to amuse myself.

I began doing some improvisation on some decidedly "worldly" themes. My selection included, "YMCA" by the Village People, "Mexican Serenade" by Scott Joplin, "My Life" by Billy Joel, "Just the Way You Are" by Billy Joel ending with "Me and Bobby McGee" by Janis Joplin. All of these, of course, were played in a very spiritual, meditative style. It never occurred to me that people out there in radioland might actually be listening to what I was playing. One or two were.

They contacted the church office and asked about the selection of music performed during the Baptism on Sunday night. A couple of days later I received a rather curt note from Hatchet, Mrs. Peasporridge asking that I limit my musical selections to sacred in the future. I didn't, just became more creative and inventive in disguising the music.

Live from the historic TOAD.....It's Sunday Morning

2006-03-22T08:14:00.000-08:00

The TOAD was a place where there was never a dull moment, although one might have been nice once in a while. One could always be guaranteed of some type of colorful happening. To further enhance their uniqueness all of their services were broadcast live over the church-owned radio station. Listeners in the greater metropolitan area were often treated to some rather colorful programming, courtesy of the TOAD and its sound crew. One time, in an attempt at quality control, I had the audacity to suggest that they do a one-week tape delay of the services. Basically, tape everything and edit - putting out a somewhat more professional product. This was immediately shot down - services had been live since the time of Sister and would continue to be so. End of discussion.

The Sound Crew's philosophy was to set up the sound equipment, turn everything on and leave it on until we went off the air and the service ended. The concept of turning something off or mixing and adjusting was totally foreign - it had never been done that way. Furthermore, good old Parson Peasporridge firmly believed in using every nano-second of air time. The time slot for the Sunday morning festivities was 10:30AM to 1:30PM.

Every Sunday morning the ritual was pretty much the same. At 10:25AM a blue light went on, a warning that in 5 minutes we would be live on the air. At 10:30AM, the announcer from the radio station would come on and announce "And now, live from the historic TOAD in downtown, the Sunday morning service beginning with 15 minutes of organ music featuring Yehudi Schnitzel (or whoever) playing the Kimball pipe organ" And we were off.

About five minutes into the organ prelude, the choir and instrumentalists would make their entrance - always an impressive and coloful parade. The choir loft had about 5 high-powered condenser mics suspended on wires over it - all hot and picking up any and all sounds. The mics and pick-ups for the instrumentalists were also hot and also picked up everything.

One fine Sunday morning, Yehudi, the organist had felt disposed to be absent and in addition to everything else I had to do , I was filling in for her. I had a monitor there that was giving me the radio feed - so I could at least hear everything going out over the airwaves. It was to be a rather colorful broadcast that morning.

The choir and instrumentalists had just gotten to their resepective places when the radio audience heard:

"Bring on the dancing girls!" from one of the horn players.

I was regaining my composure when I looked over to the choir loft and spotted Sister Wigg making her way there to chat with a couple of ladies seated in the front row - directly under a hot mic. I prayed that nothing would happen - the prayer wasn't answered. Soon the three autumnal matrons were engaged in a lively conversation - discussing another lady, who at that time was making her way down the aisle to her seat. Sister Wigg began the discussion by commenting on the apparent total lack of any form of lycra in the ladies' apparel that morning thus giving her the appearance of the AFFLAC duck. The other two commented about the color choices of the ensemble being worn and the coiffure - looking like something from a thrift shop. This particular lady was the wife of a member of the curia.

They then launched into a discussion of a juicy tidbit provided by Mrs. Wigg - the daughter of another well-known leader was pregnant, out of wedlock, however, no one knew this yet, so please don't repeat it. All carried live on the radio. Their final salvo was fired at Mrs. Peasporridge and her fashion sense - just as Parson and Mrs. Peasporridge were making their entrance.

Good old Parson Peasporridge would always ask the radio listeners to send in their cards and letters - and to tuck in a love gift. This week, he got quite an earfull from those out there in radio land. Just another fun day at the TOAD.

The Good Wife

2006-03-20T18:23:00.000-08:00

This is dedicated to Matushka Joann, Jessnbeckasmom, Glorygirl and last but certainly not least, Foxeygranny (The Queen Mum), four women I love and respect who do not fit the following, even remotely. (how's that for a disclaimer)

The Good Wife's Guide

Have dinner ready, plan ahead, even the night before to have a delicious meal ready on time for his return. This is a way of letting him know that you have been thinking about him and are concerned about his needs. Most men are hungry when they come home and the prospect of a good meal, especially his favorite dish, is part of the warm welcome needed.

Prepare yourself. Take 15 minutes to rest so you'll be refreshed when he arrives. Touch up your make-up and put a ribbon in your hair and be fresh looking. He has just been with a lot of work-weary people.

Be a little gay and a little more interesting for him. His boring day my need a lift and your of your duties is to provide it.

Clear away the clutter. Make one last trip through the main part of the house just before your husband arrives. Run a dustcloth over the tables.

Over the cooler months of the year you should prepare and light a fire for him to unwind by. Your husband will feel he has reached a haven of rest and order and it will give you a lift too. After all, catering to his comfort will provide you with immense personal satisfaction.

Minimize all noise. At the time of his arrival, eliminate all noise of the washer, dryer or vacuum. Encourage the children to be quiet.

Be happy to see him.

Greet him with a warm smile and show sincerity in your desire to please him.

Listen to him. You may have a dozen important things to tell him, but the moment of his arrival is not the time. Let him talk first, remember, his topics of conversation are more important than yours.

Make the evening his. Never complain it he comes home late or goes out to dinner or other places of entertainment without you. Instead, try to understand his world of strain and pressure and his very real need to be at home and relax.

Don't greet him with complaints and problems.

Make him comfortable. Have him lean back in a comfortable chair or haev him lie down in the bedroom. Have a cool or warm drink ready for him.

Arrange his pillow and offer to take off his shoes. Speak in a low soothing and pleasant voice.

Don't ask him questions about his actions or question his judgement or integrity. Remember, he is the master of the house and as such will always excercise his will with fairness and truthfulness. You have no right to question him.

Remember.......A good wife always knows her place.

From Housekeeping Monthly, May, 1955.

Changing the Light Bulb

2006-03-14T10:09:00.000-08:00

Being somewhat jaded, sarcastic and a smart ass (according to my wife these are the qualities that attracted her to me?) I tend to gravitate to others of like mind. This applies also to some publications. A few years ago an equally jaded friend of mine, a member of the Fourcorners Church, suggested that I investigate a publication called the "Wittenburg Door" I did and suddently heard the heavenly music, saw the light and Eureka!! I had located the Holy Grail of the religious smart ass. I felt affirmed and validated. Life was worth living. There were others like me in the world and they published! The Door publishes a few lists now and then, herewith is one of my favorite lists - The Changing of A light bulb, as practiced by various religious groups.

Lutherans - change? What is that?
Amish - what is a light bulb?
Presbyterian - submit your request to the Vestry who will place it on the agenda for their next bi-monthly meeting, you will be notified in writing if your request is approved.
Baptist - the pastor and board will appoint a committee to study the feasibility of such a change. Based on their findings, your request will be approved or denied.
Islamic Fundamentalist - it takes three to change a light bulb, one to hold the ladder, one to climb up and insert the plastic explosive, and the third to insert the light bulb
Orthodox Jew - hire the goyim.
Foursquare - it takes 100 impeccably dressed ladies to change a light bulb. 2 to present the matter to the International Board and obtain their approval for this change, 2 to go to Home Depot and purchase the approved bulb, 1 to climb the ladder to change the bulb, 1 to hold the ladder and 1 to dispose of the old bulb and wrapper. The remaining 93 impeccably dressed Foursquare ladies will stand there with their clipboards, drinking their Starbucks coffee and affirm each other in the experience.

I commend to you www.thewittenburgdoor.com

Sister Zoe Etta

2006-02-27T17:39:00.000-08:00

At one time during my father's ministry with a certain Pentecostal denomination he was sent to a church in a small town in the Deep South. The town with its antebellum mansions and row houses had changed little since the Reconstruction Era. The cotton mill was still the major industry. Everyone knew their place and stayed in it and for those who might have been prone to forget, the good ol' boys in their white sheets were there to remind and correct. It was rumored, although never conclusively proven, that one or two church members were also members of the Klan. One was also rumored to be the Grand Cyclops, also never conclusively proven either way.

The little church, situated on the main street of the town, with the parsonage next door, had a congregation that was something of a microcosm of the community. A fairly non-descript group with a little flamboyance and color here and there. The area did achieve a certain amount of notoriety and un-wanted media attention a few years later as the result of a certain young lady in the next community murdering some members of her family. However, that was still a few years off.

One of the more flamboyant members of the congregation was Sister Zoe Etta Peahen. Sister Zoe Etta was a lady of a certain age and ample girth, both fore and aft. She had also achieved a certain amount of local celebrity status as a chanteuse, often being asked to sing a various social and church events in the community. And, she was a member of my dad's church, weren't they lucky! Very shortly after my parent's arrival in this community she had approached my dad and told him not to be surprised if she came into church some Sunday morning and told him that she was going to preach. His response had been for her not to be surprised when he told her to sit down. Dad was never one to mince words. In spite of this inasupicious beginning she did agree to favor the congregation with a song one Sunday.

The Sunday that was chosen just happened to be one in which I was visiting. (I had moved out of the family home by this time and never spent too much time in this place) Sister Zoe Etta decided that as I was studying music at college she would allow me to accompany her. The Sunday that was chosen was in August, summertime in the deep south. The temperature and humidy were both soaring, approaching triple digits, the air was heavy with the aroma of magnolias and a chorus of cicadas was buzzing. The church building at that time was not air-conditioned, however, it did have an attic fan that could be turned on and circulate some air. The only problem with this was that the fan was rather loud and tended to drown out the proceedings in the church. For this occasion, the fan was turned off so as not to interfere with the musical treat in store for everyone. Ventilation on this date was provided by open windows and Funeral Home Fans. The Funeral Home Fan was a modification of the old Palm Leaf fan. They were generally made from cardboard with a wooden stick, that resembled a large tongue depressor, attached. On one side was a pretty picture of Jesus or nature and on the other side, a reminder of the love and care provided by the Funeral Home in your time of need. The church had been supplied with a large number of these.

At the appointed time in the service, Sister Zoe Etta favored the congregation with her song. She was a decent singer with a powerful voice and always expended a tremendous amount of energy in the performance. As a result of this she began to sweat profusely, Oops, pardon me, ladies don't sweat, they glow. Anyway, she was quite warm at the end of her performance.

After her performance, she took her seat on the front pew and began to fan herself quite vigorously with the Funeral Home fan. The resulting buzz from her efforts competed with the chorus or cicadas outside the window. However, this did not satisfy her or alleviate all the heat she was feeling, particularly in other parts.

As a musician sitting in the front of the church, one will see things happening that the congregation might be totally unaware of. Such was the case on this day. Mom, sitting a few rows back in the congregation did not see what was transpiring on the front row that had suddenly caused my mouth to drop open in total shock and surprise. She made a couple of discreet gestures to me to not stare and to behave, to no avail. She then turned and looked at my Dad who was attempting to maintain his composure while giving announcements and turning beet red in the process.

It was quite a sight on the front row. Sister Zoe Etta, in her attempt to relieve the heat was still fanning herself quite vigorously. However, the fan seemed to have disappeared although I still heard it buzzing. I also noticed that Sister Zoe Etta's dress seemed to be billowing up in the front for some reason and that her legs were at a rather strange angle. Having grown up in a home with three sisters I had heard the admonitions from my mother to them to sit like ladies. This, I did not see as Sister Zoe Etta was attempting to cool an area in a rather unique manner. As the service continued, Sister Zoe Etta alternated her fanning from her face then down to Baltimore and then back up to her face.

Dad was able somehow to regain his composure and continue with the service. I never did.

"Lord, I apologize for that, bless all the starving pygmies in New Guinea"

Prayer of St. Larry, the Cable Guy

The Outhouse

2006-02-16T20:59:00.000-08:00

Being third generation Pentecostal preacher's kid has given me some unique insights into life as well as a veritable treasure trove of stories. My grandfather was a pentecostal preacher and his children, my uncles and aunts, grew up in the same fish-bowl type environment that I found myself. Alyene Porter in her book "Papa Was A Preacher", stated that "all God's children have impulses - and since preacher's children spend three fourths of their time in church, their impulses are expressed there. They are viewed by a greater number of people, while the identical actions of non-preachers' kids go virtually unnoticed." Following is a story related to me by one of my uncles of their experiences in the parsonage of a pentecostal preacher.

My grandfather, as the pastor of a small pentecostal church in a town in the Northwest, tried to diligently live what he preached. He also expected his brood to do the same and would mete out retribution for any misstep from the path to righteousness. My uncles, so the story goes, learned this the hard way having had numerous encounters with "divine" judgement.

Brother Cephas, a pillar in the church, had come to Grandpa one day stating that he had seen my uncles engaged in some infraction of the churchly rules. None of the uncles could remember what exactly Brother Cephas had acccused them of, just that they had been falsely accused. It would never have occurred to Grandpa, to question the veracity of one of his pillars of the church over his own sons. Thus, he believed the accusation and administered punishment to fit the crime.

The next Sunday, the uncles were still fuming about the false accusation and unjust punishment. However, there was a guest speaker at the church that Sunday who had preached a sermon on being instruments of God's love in the world and saving people from eternal damnation. The uncles took this to heart and reasoned among themselves that if they could be an instrument of God's love could they not also be an instrument of God's judgement. Perhaps to save some poor soul from damnation. They decided that they could indeed be an instrument of God's judgement and bring some poor soul into the Kingdom, thus saving him from eternal hell fire.

The soul that they figured needed to be saved was that of Brother Cephas. Now Brother Cephas was a man of means and lived with his wife in a rather nice home in town. Brother Cephas was also known to be a stingy tight-wad who could not see the need to have that new-fangled invention, indoor plumbing in his house. He was also a very punctillious person, one could almost set one's watch by his habits. The uncles watched for an opportunity.

They soon learned that every evening at 8:50PM, Brother Cephas took a stroll down the garden path to the outhouse. This took place evey evening regardless, rain, snow, wind, hail or heat, light or no light. The plot was laid.

One evening, the uncles sneeked into Brother Cephas' yard and moved the outhouse back about 5 feet. Then, they all climbed trees, hid and waited for judgement to fall. They did not have to wait long. Precisely at 8:50PM, the back-door of the house opened and out stepped Brother Cephas going to his nightly constitutional and singing "What a friend we have in Jesus, all our sins and griefs to bear" He was starting the second phrase of this stanza "What a priviledge to carry........." when the uncles heard a loud "ker-plop", Brother Cephas had fallen in the pit. What they heard next was enough colorful invective to make a hardened sailor blush as Brother Cephas yelled for his wife to come and help him. He attempted to get out of the pit, however, the sides were rather slippery and this was next to impossible. His wife found a rope and managed to pull him out using it. She refused to let him in the house in his unsanitary condition and gave him a bucket of water and told him to strip down, wash and then come in the house. He did as he was told. The last vision the uncles had of Brother Cephas, that night, was him running in the altogether toward the house. The night was rather cold.

The next day, a contractor was hired and indoor plumbing was installed at the Cephas home.

This story did not surface until recently. Accusations against the unlces were made, however, none were ever proven. The uncles figured that they had two things working for them now, the statute of limitations had run out and both Brother Cephas and Grandpa had passed on.

Miss Irene

2006-02-07T07:51:00.000-08:00

Another one of God's unique and interesting creatures to be found at the TOAD was Miss Irene. Miss Irene was a lady of a certain age, an autumnal matron who, in her younger days, had obviously been a ravishing beauty. In her eighth decade of life, she attempted to maintain that vision through some interesting cosmetic treatments and make-up applications. One or two of the pundits around the TOAD stated that her make-up and hair were maintained by weekly visits to the embalmers and artists at Forest Lawn Mortuary.

Miss Irene, in her younger days, had been an accomplished musician, singer, pianist and a published composer. Some tremendous doors had been opened for her by God to really do great things in the field of sacred music. However, being headstrong, stubborn and pursuing her own agenda, she opted to pursue a career in secular entertainment - with disastrous results.
(This came from my god-mother who had known Miss Irene in her younger days.) She spent the rest of her life attempting to force those doors open in various churches throughout the area, quite often with hilarious results.

When she arrived at the TOAD she encountered Ichabod, the Music Director. She and Icahbod were pretty much equally matched in their inflated egos and healthy dose of high self-esteem. Like Ichabod, she considered herself to be a fine specimen of body beautiful and irresistable to the opposite sex. And, as was the case with Ichabod, the opposite gender did not recognize the tremendous "gift" that had been placed in their midst. She, like Ichabod, considered her musical talents and abilities to be the epitome of musical expression. She also felt that the music department of the TOAD would be the perfect vehicle to showcase some of her works and talent. However, Ichabod felt otherwise and told her so, publicly, thus earning for himself her undying animosity. This animosity was to be expressed later, quite publicly. (see the previous post "Ichabod and the Girdle") Just as her animosity was expressed publicly, so was her infatuation. When expressing these two emotions, she became quite focused; totally focused on the object and expression these emotions and totally oblivious to anything else that might be going on at that time and place. Just as Ichabod was the focus of her animosity, I became the object of her infatuation, expressed publicly.

Upon my arrival at the TOAD, Miss Irene reasoned that God was answering her prayers for a man and someone to share in her music ministry. Totally disregarding the fact that I was in a relationship with someone and also the 50-year difference in our ages, not to mention that I was totally disinterested. However, that did not stop her as she mounted a hot pursuit.

Her first attempts came as little love notes - placed in offering envelopes and sent through the offering collection to me. These notes provided no end of amusement for the ushers as they began teasing me about my new "squeeze". Miss Significant Other at that time also heard of these notes and offered to step aside. When the notes did not produce results, other tactics were resorted to.

She became more public in her expression. One Sunday night, during the middle of the service as I was playing the organ, she arrived late and marched down the center aisle of the church, carrying a package. In front of the entire assemblage, she walked to the organ. To the stunned amusement of everyone she placed a package on the organ, cocked her head, smiled and winked. I turned ten shades of red. Parson Peasporridge was momentarily stunned and speechless. I have no recollection of what was in the package. The congregation was highly amused and stifled giggles. The ushers, in the back of the church, were rolling on the floor in laughter.

When this did not produce the desired results, another approach was mounted. One Sunday morning a large manila envelope came to me - again through the offering. In it was a recent color photo of herself. She was seated rather provocatively, in a mini skirt, on top of a grand piano. How she got up on top of the piano was a mystery to me. The photo was autographed "Mrs Steve _______" and attached was a somewhat suggestive note. This was a lady in her 80's.

At this point, Parson Peasporridge reached his limit of endurance with this "relationship" and its public expressions. A strongly worded letter was sent to her requesting that she cease and desist in her pursuit of me.

Ahhh...........what might have been.

Ichabod and the Queen

2006-01-31T16:40:00.000-08:00

When I first went to the TOAD I worked with the Music Director at that time, Ichabod. Fortunately this only lasted about a year.

Ichabod was blessed with a rather large dosage of high self esteem, his opinion of his own abilities, giftings and charms far surpassed the views of almost everyone. To further compound this, Ichabod considered himself to be a fine specimen of manhood - with a physique, so he thought, that no normal woman could resist that came straight from the pages of "Muscle and FItness". In reality, his physique was somewhat closer to that of the Pillsbury Doughboy.

To his continuing frustration and consternation, the normal single women (there were a few there) did not appreciate his charms and were not impressed with his physique. To his way of thinking, they simply did not recognize the great gift and opportunity that God had placed in their midst. To his further irritation, one or two members of the Unclaimed Blessings group did seem impressed with his charms and physique and mounted a hot pursuit. Ichabod was not impressed with them and continued to bewail his unattached status.

Apparently, Ichabod and his constant whining and complaining had touched a nerve in someone. Actually, his over-inflated ego and his whining about women and touched and gotten on quite a few nerves around the TOAD.

Anyway. a few days later some friends and I were sitting in a coffee shop out in the Valley chatting when who should walk in but Ichabod. Ichabod, dressed in a blue leisure suit with open shirt and his spiked hair, was in a high state of agitation. We invited him to sit with us and someone asked the reason for his agitation.

Someone at the TOAD, we never found out who, had finally had their fill of Ichabod's continual whining over the fact that there were no interesting and unique women at the TOAD and that none seemed interested in the "gift" that God had generously dropped in their midst. They had suggested to him that perhaps he needed to expand his field of pursuit and check out a certain venue in the Valley that was known to be populated with interesting and unique women many of whom would certainly see and readily appreciate this fine speciman of manhood. We thought that he had perhaps been sent to one of the singles groups at one of the larger evangelical churches in the Valley. Someone asked where he had gone. His answer got a response of about 2 seconds of stunned silence followed by hysterics.

The people that Ichabod had encountered were indeed interesting and unique, women? Hardly. The person that Ichabod had irritated and sent him to the Queen Mary. No, not the ship anchored in Long Beach harbor, but a trans-gender, transvestite bar in Studio City. As we went further into hysteria, Ichabod paniced as he was fearful of what Parson Peasporridge would say when he found out that the TOAD's Minister of Music had been visiting gay bars.

Just another fun-filled day at the TOAD.

Blame Canada

2006-01-13T09:07:00.000-08:00

As I have stated before, the TOAD in addition to being a repository for all manner of characters, also saw an unending procession of these same types coming through on a regular basis. One of the more unique and unusual groups brought in by Parson Peasporridge was a group of blessings from Toronto. I had the rather dubious honor of being one fo the first to encounter them after their arrival.

One Friday afternoon I had to go to my office and decided to take a short-cut through the auditorium, going in through the back stage door. Upon entering I stopped suddenly, thinking that either I had been teleported to a paralell universe or had inadvertently walked in on a screening of "Dr Doolittle". It was quite a cacophony of animal sounds that greeted me. Discovering that I was actually still in the TOAD I decided to investigate the matter. I peered through the side of the stage curtain and was greeted by what appeared to be a combination of the Bronx Zoo and a barnyard. There were about 12 people on stage, all behaving like various animals.

On the left side was a clucking chicken, a slithering snake, a barking dog, a mooing cow and a couple of bleating sheep. On the right side, there were a couple of frolicking chimpanzees, a screeching minah bird, another chicken clucking and scratching and a cat meowing. In the center of the stage was an ass, braying at the ceiling and windows.

My contemplation of this menagerie was soon interrupted by the entrance, back stage, of some of the maintenance crew who were there to check on some equipment. One of the items they were to check was the hydraulic lift upon which the pulpit was installed. The pulpit at the TOAD was somewhat unique. The main body of it was mounted on the hydraulic lift with a rather ornate top, which was added once the pulpit was fully extended. When not in use, the top was taken off and the pulpit was lowered into the floor. Once lowered it was flush with the floor level and all anyone saw was the lines around the edge. To further confuse the simple, the top had a piece of carpet on it that matched that of the floor. There had been some problems lately with the pulpit descending without warning during Peasporridge's sermon. Anyway, situated directly on top of the pulpit was the braying ass.

The maintenance crew, oblivious to Noah's ark on the platform, opened the valves to raise the pulpit. Oh, to have had a camera to record what happened next. The ass, braying for all he was worth, suddenly realized that he was being lifted from the earth. At first, he thought he was having an Elijah experience and being taken directly to heaven. However, he soon realized that the experience was more earthly and became rather frightened as he was not sure just how high up he was going to go. The expression on his face was priceless. The braying, and all the other animal sounds, suddenly ceased as he screamed for help. The two chimps immediately came to his aid and helped him get down. The maintenance guys came over to me and asked if I needed help - by this time I was bent double in convulsive laughter. I was still laughing as the animals trooped out and took their show elsewhere.

The Baptism of Sister Clara

2006-01-04T07:21:00.000-08:00

The TOAD was and is situated in the center of what amounts to that particular denomination's version of the Holy See in Rome. Across the street are the Curia and various Prefects and Congregations and next door, their version of the Pontifical University. Upon beginning my tenure at the TOAD I had naively assumed that this was one big happy family. In reality, it was and remains a highly dysfunctional family with the various factions frequently at each others throats. When Parson Peasporridge took over as senior pastor of the TOAD he attempted to broker a peace settlement between the warring factions. His efforts were spectacularly unsuccessful and resulted in numerous colorful happenings. Herewith is an account of one of the more entertaining of those events.

One of Peasporridge the Peacemaker's first overtures was to the Pontifical University, dear old P.U. He thought it would be nice to have one of their up and coming stars speak on a Sunday morning. PU responded and sent one of their brightest and best from the current graduating class, Sister Clara Foghorn. Sister Clara was a charismatic individual and popular with her classmates at PU. Her appearance guaranteed a significant representation from the student body. Peasporridge reasoned that this would show that things were on the mend between the TOAD and PU.

For the event, Sister Clara appeared attired in an ensemble reminiscent of one worn by the founder back in the 1930's, white cotton dress with a blue cape. Quite a sight indeed. Oh, and did I mention that Sister Clara did not wear a bra? This was a source of delight with some, irritation with others and was probably a contributing factor in her popularity - particularly among the males.

Now Sister Clara had a voice that was something of a cross between fingernails running across a chalk board and a cat with its tail caught underneath a rocking chair. She was also very dramatic utilizing large expansive, expressive gestures that reminded one of a buzzard attempting flight. About half way through her oratory she decided to remove the cape - it was apparently getting in the way of the dramtic gestures. Also, for some unexplained reason, the stage curtains were open and the top of the baptismal pool was off.

As the sermon wore on, Sister Clara became more and more dramatic, moving about, flapping her arms and shrieking at the audience. It soon became quite obvious to all that she was not paying attention to where she was walking. To emphasize one of her more salient points she took a giant step backward, flapping and shrieking. She went one step too far and fell backwards, head first, feet in the air, into the pool of water. For a moment or two all anyone saw were two legs flapping about as Sister Clara attempted to correct the situation. One of the back-stage crew assisted and soon Sister Clara was standing upright - in front of the entire audience. There were audible gasps from throughout the audience - some in delight, others in shock.

The wet T-shirt contests at Venice beach had nothing on the TOAD that day.

Matilda, Brunhilde and Goretha

2005-12-13T18:26:00.000-08:00

The choir at the TOAD was a microcosm of the congregation at large. The general population of the choir was genuinely talented, "normal" human beings, however, there were representatives of the other classes and sub-species as well. Three of these representatives were Matilda, Brunhilde and Goretha, two sopranos and an alto none of whom cared much for the other and expressed their disdain periodically. One fine Sunday morning these three ended up sitting together in the front row of the choir loft - highly visible to all who could see. Matilda was in the center with Brunhilde and Goretha on either side. A guaranteed recipe for disaster - or entertainment, whichever way you looked at it.

Matilde was somewhat reminiscent of a bag lady - although she wasn't, just kind of looked the part. She was also high strung, emotional and at times very expressive. Brunhilde, in her younger days had been a member of Hitler Jugend and still carried some of those attributes with her. She considered Matilda to be out of control, and said so, not very discreetly. Of the three, Goretha was probably the most balanced - although she had her moments as well. Prior to entering the choir loft that Sunday morning, Brunhilde had made a disparaging remark about Matilda's taste in art (Matilda had just donated a painting to the church) for which Matilda was still fuming as the choir processed in.

I noted, with some trepidation, that Double Bubble, Toil and Trouble were all seated together. I said a silent prayer that peace and harmony would prevail - my prayer, for some reason or other, was not answered. Just after the opening hymn, Mrs. Peasporridge, the "Worship Leader" decided to sing the chorus "Let Thy Glory Fill The Temple" - a guaranteed crowd pleaser and stimuli for "Spiritual manefestations", some genuine, others not nearly so. Matilda, as a highly emotional and expressive person, got caught up the "spirit" of the moment and began, with arms out stretched, to dance around. However, her area to dance was severely limited by the fact that she was in the center of the front row of the choir loft. That didn't stop her.

Being "caught up" in the "spirit" of the moment Matilda swung around and with her right arm and hand outstretched slapped Brunhilde in the face. The resulting "smack" was heard all over the church. Brunhilde, being a former Nazi, did not appreciate this treatment and was not going to take it - church or no church. She gave Matilda, who was pretending to be "lost in the spirit" a rather forceful shove, catching her somewhat by surprise. The force of Brunhilde's shove sent Matilda flying into Goretha with the both of them sitting down with a thud, Goretha on the bottom, Matilda on the top.

Now, Goretha was no more appreciative of Matilda than Brunhilde and certainly did not want her sitting on her lap in front of the entire congregation. However,she did not have the strength or agility of Brunhilde. So, she did the next best thing. She applied a rather strong pinch to Matilda's caboose. At this, Matilda flew straight up with a shriek and landed back in her spot in the center of the front row. The sight of Brunhilde with her fists clenched and ready for round 2 brought Matilda back from the spirit realm.

The choir was scheduled to sing their anthem next. They did so, with the full attention of the congregation who were expecting to see another episode of the WWF Rumble. Miraculously, no law suits were filed.

Just another fun day at the TOAD.

Kudos to the wife-unit

2005-12-13T15:08:00.000-08:00

My usual blog entries are about the antics of the inmates at the TOAD. However, this one will be somewhat different.

My lovely wife, Glorygrl, is to be commended on surviving an encounter with two (2) popes, one current and one previous, both living, a few super saints and one or two just plain ordinary people. I am referring to our recent foray into Mouse Land that was populated by numerous Quadrangulares. This year she was not quite the curiosity that she was last year at the events we first attended together. It was true that several, upon seeing my "Grumpy" sweatshirt, tried to tell her about the "real me". Interesting to say the least. It is true that I tend to be something of a jaded, cynical smartass at times - I also go to confession periodically as well. Which one of the Quadrangular pundits can say that? From what I have seen on the blogs and at the parish, I seem to be in the company of several kindred spirits. Love it.

Our next Quadrangular adventure - The Sacred Assembly - Convention.

The Flying Bun

2005-12-08T07:06:00.000-08:00

Rarely was there ever a dull moment at the TOAD. Although a dull moment here and there might have been nice. As I have stated many times previously, the congregation was an eclectic mix of persons and other creatures from the far reaches of the known galaxies. In addition to this Parson Peasporridge kept a steady stream of visiting speakers and groups coming through. Some of these were rather interesting and unique - the TOAD seemed to attract them. One such group was a collection of beings who called themselves "New Wind" - however "Breaking Wind" might have been a more appropriate name for this group.

No one was ever quite sure how Peasporridge made contact with this group, but he did. They were to minister in "Song and Word" to us. They presented themselvs as a "Holiness" group, and indeed most dressed the part. Their musical style was a combination of Jimmy Swaggart, Hee Haw and the Grand Ol' Opry. Brother Ben was the leader of the band, however the leader of the entire group was Sister Bertha, a true holiness sister. She was attired in the appropriate dress - covered neck to mid-calf and all the way down to the wrist. No make-up or jewelry of any kind. Her hair was in the typical holiness hairstyle - basically long, un-cut (so it appeared) and gathered on top of her head in a bun. Brother Ben and Sister Bertha both obviously had enjoyed quite a few "country dinners" Both were persons of ample girth, both fore and aft.

Brother Ben, as the leader of the band, played guitar and mandolin and had recently learned a couple of mandolin licks from listening to some Emmy Lou Harris recordings. The licks worked quite well for Emmy Lou and her band, however, Brother Ben applied them to each and every song the group performed. All of their songs came out sounding like "Blue Kentucky Girl" One interesting song they did was one they had written for their Jewish landlord called "Hear O Israel" - they were to perform it for him the following week.

At last the musical portion of the evening's entertainment was over. Sister Bertha stepped to the front of the platform and, turning her back to the audience, addressed her entourage:

"Y'all go set down now! I'm gonna preach!"

The group obeyed and did as they were told. At this point an itch of some type manifested itself on Sister Bertha's rather ample caboose. Regardless of where it is or you are, an itch must be scratched. With her back still to the audience, Sister Bertha engaged in some vigorous scratching of the acreage in question. After about 30 seconds of intense scratching Sister Bertha turned and stepped to the pulpit.

Sister Bertha then launched into her sermon, an old-fashioned pentecostal hellfire and brimstone diatribe. It was punctuated with the appropriate waving of the arms, slamming of the fist on the pulpit and jerks of the head for emphasis. There were also frequent commands to the devil to "loose these people and let them go!" However, the only thing that was loosened that evening was the bun on top of Sister Berthas head. After one vigorous and violent jerk of her head for emphasis, the bun on top suddenly became airborne. It flew from her head , resembling a flying bagel and landed somewhere in the audience on the main floor. Apparently she had not generated enough thrust to get it into the balcony.

The visiting group as well as the audience was somewhat shocked by what the flying bun revealed. Sister Bertha did not have the long holiness hair that she purported to have. Her hair was rather short, pulled up on top of her head and secured with the bun. In holiness circles, a rather serious breach of theology.

The bun was later recovered. No one was injured.

Glorygrls' Ensemble for Friday

2005-12-06T18:26:00.000-08:00

Since GloryGrl is spending Friday among so many of the disciples, she has decided to dress like the prophet/founder herself. Herewith is the ensemble to be worn.

Respectfully submitted for your comments, witticisms. jibes, etc.

Recovering4sqr - devoted husband to Glorygrl.

The Charrenge

2005-12-03T19:16:00.000-08:00

Charrenge issued by Sinner/Saint

This is:

1. A slighty inebriated public works crew.

2. Local authorities being all things to all people.

3. The city got a bargain from the sign painter.

4. Local authorities not wanting to offend anyone.

5. All points of view being given equal time.

6. All roads lead to Rome.

7. We accept and affirm you, regardless of which

direction you are going.

8. Sign posted for the quail, making it easier for

Fr. Mnski and Kimo to catch them.

9. Sign posted by the quail to confuse Fr. Mnski

and Kimo.

10. Directions to the T.O.A.D.

Hot Dog and Hemorrhoids

2005-12-02T11:21:00.000-08:00

Prior to my term of sevice at the TOAD, I was involved in some other equally interesting and unique adventures. Prior to the TOAD I was the musician at a church in a rather affluent suburb of LA serving there with the beloved Fr. J and Mother B (actually just Pastor J and his wife B then). During this period of time I also played for the monthly "Crusades" of a certain well-known and somewhat notorious television evangelist who would come to one of the larger sports venues in Southern California. The choir of another, equally well-known and somewhat more reputable television evangelist was secured for these events as well.

This particular tele-evangelist also figured rather prominently in the sex/money scandals which were widely publicized in the news media of the late 1980's. My friends and I referred to him as "Hot Dog" as this was one of his favorite expressions, sometimes coupled with "Hot Dog, Jesus." Coming from the South, with the rest of the clan of Evangelists, he was quite a colorful character. On a serious note, it was through this experience that I first met Fr. J and also learned a lot about deceiving spirits.

Hot Dog's monthly services were interesting events to say the least. In the early days of my involvement they were well-attended with notables such as Efrem and Stephanie Zimbalist, Pat and Shirley Boone, the Bakkers and sometimes Miss Purple Haystack from the Christian TV network in Orange County. In truth, these monthly events were more of a circus than anything else. In the early days of Hot Dog's ministry he had been pretty much right with his theology, etc. However, as time went on, he veered off course somewhat. He began to get some rather interesting "anointings" for various kinds of ministry.

Some were amusing; others not nearly so. One of his more amusing "ministries" came on the day that he suddenly felt "led" to offer a prayer for all those in the audience that were afflicted wih hemorrhoids. He first asked the sufferers to stand where they were. Next, he ordered those around them to "lay hands" on the area as a "point of contact". Amazingly enough, several responded. A couple of my equally jaded friends were there that day and, with me, went into hysterics. I found out later that another friend had decided to leave at this point. However, he wasn't paying attention to what was going on and when he stood up to leave he got goosed. Upon realizing that a prayer was being offered for his hemorrhoids, he quickly sat down. He was not afflicted with the ailment.

This is a true story folks. Fr. J and Mother B are real people - most of you know them.

More adventures to come.

Queen Amidala - from a Galaxy Far Far Away

2005-11-30T21:57:00.000-08:00

I have been challenged by one whom I respect greatly to expand the acronymn for the Temple of Doom from TOD to T.O.A.D (Temple of Acrimonious Doom) or Temple Under Repressive Dominion (T.U.R.D). I think I will use TOAD, for the moment.

Anyway, as I have said in the past, the TOAD was a veritable Garden of Eden of Oddities - some found nowhere else in the known universe. One such character was Queen Amidala.

Queen Amidala was unique in many ways. However, she was also a fairly accomplished organist. At the TOAD, one of the older and larger Sunday School classes met in the main sanctuary. The teacher/prophet of this collection of God's creatures was Wan Hong Lo (another story in himself). Anyway, one Sunday Wan decided that he wanted to have a time of sing song prior to his teaching. He wanted to do this on a regular basis and approached me, as Minister of Music, about securing the services of one of our musicians. There were none available. Queen Amidala soon learned of his plight and volunteered her services. Being desperate, Wan agreed and secured a key for her to the pipe organ.

This arrangement, however, did not last long, about two weeks total. Queen Amidala was a fairly comptetent musician and could perform some challenging organ works from the great composers. She was also extremely inflexible. Wan and his group of disciples did not particuarly care for J.S. Bach's Orgelbuchlein for their sing song. Amidala disagreed.

One fine Sunday Wan approached Queen Amidala and informed her that her services would no longer be needed and could she please return the key to the pipe organ. It was fortunate for Wan that there were several witnesses to the encounter, one or two of whom were even credible. Amidala relinquished the key, however, the story that she began telling around the TOAD was that in a fit of rage Wan had jerked the key from her hand and caused a severe case of tendonitis. To prove her point, she wore her arm in a sling for about a month.

Once her period of recovery was over she decided that she would play a keyboard at church anyway. From that point on, until I departed, she would periodically bring her Casio to church. However, she would not bring it in to the sanctuary and play with the other musicians - she would set up shop in the Narthex and play along out there - most of the time the same song as was being played inside and sometimes even in the same key. She sang as well - rather high pitched screeching. She viewed this as a service to the late arrivals so that they could begin singing the moment they arrived and once they found their seats would be up with the rest of the crowd.

One day, things got even more interesting with Queen Amidala. God allegedly told her that He was going to send her a husband and she would meet him at the TOAD. From that moment on she wore a full length wedding gown to church, sometimes with the veil. I'm not sure if Luke Skywalker ever appeared. In case he did, she was ready for the trip to the Altar.

Does anyone still wonder why I am somewhat jaded and a slight smart a-- at times?

The Russian Service

2005-11-15T07:22:00.000-08:00

In addition to everything else that it was, the TOD was also quite diverse in the ethnic make-up of the congregation. Parson Peasporridge boasted that there were approximately 30 different ethnic groups there; there were about 7 distinct congregations, each with its own leader. All reporting to Peasporridge. Every friday night many of these groups would come together for a joint service in what was known as the "Commissary Service" In exchange for sitting through a multi-lingual service for about 1 1/2 hours one could go through the commisary line and get a bag or two of food ranging from week-old fruits and vegetables to day-old pastries and baked goods to canned goods. This was the best attended service of the week. The Russians were the largest group, most were fresh off the boat from the old country. They brought with them the culture and mind-set of the former Communist society.

One rather warm Friday night I was in the balcony, observing the proceedings. As it was rather warm I had an ice cube that I had been sucking on. I was holding it in my hand, tightly I thought. However, at one point I squeezed too tightly and the ice cube flew upward out of my hand. I watched, somewhat stunned, as it arched up and flew over the balcony to the main floor below. As I watched, the cube hit a man in the fourth row on the top of the head. The man, thinking that the person behind him was playing games, stood up, turned around and began to beat the stuffing out of the man directly behind him. The ushers were able to restore order, but not until each combatant had given the other a black eye.

I discreetly moved to another section of the balcony. Soon I was joined by my friend, Igor. Igor, was also a somewhat recent arrival from Russia. However, he was considerably more cultured than most of the attendees. He was an excellent jazz and classical guitarist; and was a graduate and also faculty member of the Moscow Conservatory. He also was quite fluent in about 4 languages, Russian, English, German and Spanish.

Igor and I sat there and watched with some amusement as the proceedings began. Parson Peasporridge was to deliver a sermon that night and wanted to make certain that a large percentage of the congregation understood what he was saying. Thus he had engaged 3 translators, Spanish, Russian and Tagalog. The Spanish translator was a Cuban lady of African descent. The Russian translator was Brother Vladimir, the leader of one of the Eastern European congregations within the TOD, Rumanian or Albanian. He had assured Peasporridge that he was fluent in Russian. He had served in the Soviet army and had learned his Russian there. Peasporridge had not bothered to check credentials here and assumed that Russian was Russian.

The sermon proceeded in 4 languages, First in English, then Spanish, then Tagalog and finally Russian. The Russians, as the largest group, usually became bored quickly and began talking amongst themselves, not always quietly. However, on this evening I noticed that the Russians were paying more attention than usual and also giggling and snickering periodically. I also noticed that Igor was periodically giggling as well. Finally Igor and most of the Russians lost it totally. I asked what was going on and Igor explained.

Apparently Brother Vladimir's Russian had not been acquired through the educational system. he had learned it while serving in the Soviet Army. It was not Church Slavonic that he was speaking, but a rather generous portion of Russian slang and profanity - which is why all the Russians were paying attention that night. The coup de grace had come when Peasporride referred to the Cuban lady as "My African-American sister here." What came out in Russian was the Russian slang equivalent of "This n--ger standing here" When the Russians all went into hysterics Vladimir realized his gaffe and attempted to correct it. He hastily said, in Russian, "Oops, I mean 'Afrikanski-Americanski" making up a new word. At this the Russians and Igor with them, lost it totally. Peasporridge was oblivious to it all.

Just another fun night at the TOD.

Obadiah

2005-11-11T18:26:00.000-08:00

If the congregation at the TOD wasn't interesting and unique enough, good Parson Peasporridge used to import personages for our edification and entertainment. Like the normal attendees of the TOD these too were some of God's more interesting creations. Parson Peasporridge saw to it that we had a steady stream.

One Sunday morning he had secured the services of Rev. Obadiah to be our guest speaker. Obadiah was a person of some renown in his home country in Africa and was making a splash in the US as well. However, not for the same reasons as he was in Africa. As was the custom at the TOD whenever the visitor was from a foreign country, the services of a translator would be offered to translate from Urdu, Hindi, Farsi, Mandarin or whatever. The same was offered to Rev. Obadiah. He declined, very proudly stating that he was fluent in English and had no trouble communicating.

Rev. Obadiah began his sermon that morning and, just has he had said, he did have a good command of the English language. Someone had also very thoughtfully taught him American idioms and slang. However, they had omitted American usage; i.e., which words were for polite society and which were not. This became quite apparent as he launched into his sermon.

He first began talking about one's conscience, and how it could help keep one from doing wrong by pricking one. He then declared: "Often, I have felt a little prick." Then asking for a show of hands he asked, "How many of you have ever felt a little prick?"

At this a wave of audible snickers wafted across the congregation - most noticeable in the front section fo the first balcony where most of the youth group were. Parson Peasporridge started to fidgit. All of this was, of course, carried live on the radio as well.

Brother Obadiah continued his sermon moving on to the general condition of the world in which we live. Stretching both arms out to the people he very boldly announced "This world in which we live is totally f**ked up!" Again, there was an audible wave of snickers throughout the congregation only this time accompanied by some equally audible gasps. Peasporridge was by now beet red with embarrassment; he had invited numerous members of the curia to hear this distinguished guest.

Unfazed and unperterbed, Obadiah continued his oration managing to make it to the end without any more colorful idioms. Peasporridge began to relax somewhat, thinking, and hoping, that the worst was over. It wasn't.

As he neared the end of this memorable sermon, he intoned a prayer in which he asked God to give him the strength, and to give everyone else there the strength as well, to go out into the world and Kick Ass and finally beat that sonofab***h, the devil..

At this, Peaseporridge, gave the signal to the sound crew to cut the radio feed and attempted to salvage what he could. At this point there wasn't too much left.

Another fun day at the TOD.

Sister Juventina

2005-11-11T07:14:00.000-08:00

Sister Juventina was another one of the somewhat unique parishioners of the TOD. She rarely missed a service rain or shine and always occupied the same seat; right side of the sancturary, 6 rows back on the far aisle. Heaven help the hapless individual who had the audacity sit in her seat. They would be informed that was her place, had been for the last 40 years and would continue to be until Jesus came back, so please move, now. Sister Juventina would then sit down until about midway through the service whereupon she would bow her head and fall asleep. She would remain in the condition until the Altar Call portion of the service when she would awaken and thank God for the sinners that were responding. Her routine never varied.

One Sunday morning Sister Juventina arrived as usual, took her accustomed place in the church, sat down and at the prescribed time, bowed her head and went to sleep. However, when the Altar Call was given, Sister Juventina did not awaken and offer her usual prayer. She remained with her head bowed, asleep. In fact, she remained this way all the way through the benediction and departure of the congregation. No one seemed to notice that Sister Juventina was sleeping more soundly than usual. Neither did anyone notice that she did not depart with the rest of the congregation.

About 30 minutes later the security staff were making their usual sweep of the church prior to locking up and noticed that Sister Juventina was still in her seat, apparently asleep. One of the men walked over to her and somewhat loudly informed her that church was over and it was time to go home. He received no response. He then gently tapped her on the shoulder and received something of shock when she fell over, totally unresponsive. At some point in time after bowing her head, Sister Juventina had died. No one had noticed.

Why I am not a W O R M

2005-11-08T15:07:00.000-08:00

I have been asked on numerous occasions as to why I am not a W.O.R.M. In our parish this is a group of the testosterone population that is either in seminary, has been to seminary or is contemplating attending seminary with the ultimate goal of becoming a priest. I think this is great for them and applaud their efforts. Some not too subtle hints have been dropped to me about getting down with the crew and becoming a priest. Not happening folks. Herewith are the reasons, in no particular order:

I don't feel that it is God's will for my life.
My wife doesn't want me to.
I have already spent 19 years of my life matriculating.
I already have 2 college degrees.
I don't need a third.
With the college degrees I have I can cross denominational lines easier than if I were a priest - for example, CEC to OCA, or to ICFG or to AG.
I already wear a skirt in church (part of time anyway.)
The Venerable Father D gets on my nerves.
I am already a Professed member of a religious order and for about 5 years now have adhered to the Rule of Life.
I don't want to.

The TOD - North

2005-11-07T07:12:00.000-08:00

About 15 miles north of the TOD was another church, same denomination. Although not quite as old as the TOD it was equally colorful and off-beat. Things were always happening here as well. The founding pastor was a kindly older gentleman who for whatever reason had taken a liking to me. As a result I found myself playing for numerous special occasions and weddings there. The weddings were some of the most "interesting" that I have ever encountered.

The church sanctuary would have made a very nice liturgical church as it was situated perfectly for this, long central aisle, high altar, etc., with the organ off to the left hand side in the front. One wedding stands out in my memory. For this wedding, the bride had chosen to wear a long, floor length gown of silk. The gown was also backless and strapless. I am not sure what exactly held it up, although I was to find out soon enough. Instead of the traditional veil the bride had chosen a rather large-brimed white hat, worn slightly to the side of her head. She also carried a large bouqet of flowers.

The processional was played and the wedding party entered the church. The bride was given to the groom, the attendents stepped back and the bride and groom prepared to follow the minister to high altar for the ceremony. There were about six steps up to the altar. As the couple prepared to go up the steps following the minister, the bride at the first step, accidentally stepped on the hem of her gown. Not realizing what she had done she continued to the second step, again making a forceful step as she realized now that something was hindering progress. With this forceful second step, the laws of physics took over, for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction. The force of her movement yanked everything down - including the strapless, backless top of the gown. The organist, groom and minister were the only ones who actually saw the grand opening. The congregation was aware of what had transpired but were not treated to a visual. The bride, upon losing the top of her gown, screamed and threw the bouqet back over her head. With the groom's assistance she made some hasty repairs and the ceremony proceeded without further incident.

Another memorable wedding occurred a few weeks later. As I said earlier, the minister was a kindly older gentlemen and was sometimes prone to forget certain details. At this particular wedding, the bride and groom had already consumated the marriage and the bride was about 4 months along. However, neither family was aware of this nor was the congregation.

The ceremony proceeded without incident until the final prayer. The old minister intoned that God would grant his blessing on this union, the man, the woman AND, on the child due in September. At this there was a very audible sucking in of air and gasping heard throughout the church. The bride's mother had to be revived. The recessional was filled with looks of shock and glares at the couple as they sheepishly made their way out.

Another couple in the church had announced their plans to be married. This was greeted with joy as both were the offspring of some rather prominent clergy in the denomination.
About three months prior to the wedding date a surprise shower was planned for the couple at the home of the bride's family.

As the shower was to be a surprise, neither the guy or the girl were told of the plans. What they were told was to go to the home of the bride's parents. On the appointed date they did as they were instructed. However, after they arrived they received a call from the bride's father stating that they would be a little late, about 2 hours exactly and would they please wait there. They complied.

Being young and in love they decided to "play house." They had a session of fun and games in one of the bedrooms upstairs. What they did not know, was that during the fun and game session, their parents, together with all the shower guests had arrived and were quietly waiting downstairs. The couple, oblivious to anything else, decided to take their fun to the den and try out the couch there. The guy scooped up the girl in his arms and proceeded to carry her down stairs - each wearing nothing more than the smile on their faces.

When they reached the bottom of the stairs it was hard to say who was the most shocked - the couple or the guests. Needless to say, the wedding date was moved up considerably - Las Vegas the following weekend.

Brother Nimnodes

2005-11-04T06:50:00.000-08:00

One Sunday evening at the TOD we were honored to have Brother Nimnodes as the guest speaker. Parson Peasporridge had gone to great lengths to secure this fine speaker for our evening service and had announced the event for several weeks in advance with much fanfare.

Brother Nimnodes was a speaker of some renown and widely respected for his very fine oratory skills. That was his public persona; his out-of-the spotlight persona was something a little less saintly. He could be, and frequently was, very demanding, arrogant and at times a total anal orifice. When the date arrived for his appearance with us he arrived at the church about an hour early and began making all kinds of demands on the sound crew, stage crew and musicians. He had specific songs that he wanted played at specific times in the service and wanted to be certain that I could handle them. I told him that I thought I could. He also managed to irritate everyone else as we complied with his requests and demands. What we did not know was that soon we would be treated to payback on a grand scale.

Finally Brother Nimnodes neared the end of his oration and I moved to the organ to play the song that he had requested for this spot. However, this section of his program stretched into about 30 minutes as he pontificated. After 30 minutes I began to do some improvisation, in the same key of course. Brother Nimnodes immediately noticed the change and stopped everything. Glaring at me he ordered me to "Play the song that I ordered you to play, Now!" He further emphasized his command with a somewhat violent jerk of his head. I complied.

However, when he spit out the word "Now!" his Poli-Grip gave way and both his upper and lower plates went flying out of his mouth and over the pulpit. They landed on the floor directly in front of the first row of seats. Payback was sweet! The teeth landed about 6 inches from a little 5 year old boy, known in the church for his mischief. Brother Nimnodes was hoping and praying that no one had noticed the airborne choppers and was going to try and make a graceful slide to the benediction. However, this was not to be.

The little boy, uncharacteristically on good behavior, immediately picked up the dentures and made his way to the platform. He went to the pulpit and rather loudly announced to Brother Nimnodes, and everyone else, that here were his teeth that had fallen out. Parson Peasporridge immediately came to the rescue of this poor soul and offered the benediction.

Note: all the stories from the TOD are true. I could not create fiction like this. Prior to publication they are reviewed by others who were present at the events for accuracy of detail.

The Wedding

2005-11-01T06:45:00.000-08:00

Love was always in bloom at the Temple, or so it seemed. Throughout the year there was an abundance of weddings, mostly persons from the congregation. As one of the organists/accompanists I played for a fair share of these events and in the process gathered enough material to keep Jerry Seinfeld and Ray Romano busy for years. Some were memorable events for various reasons, others, simply normal routine occurrences. One such memorable event occurred one fine Spring Saturday afternoon.

Delilah and Samson were a couple that had been attending the church while Samson completed his education at a nearby college. They met, fell in love and planned to be married. The ceremony was scheduled for 2PM with a reception to follow in the church social hall. I arrived at the church at about 1:15PM and checked for any last-minute changes. At that moment, there were none. Everything looked fine.

At 1:45PM I began the music. My significant other of the moment had made plans for us to have an early dinner and her place and then on to a concert in South Orange County. These plans were predicated upon my being out of there by approximately 3PM. At 2PM the wedding coordinator came to me at stated that all of the wedding party was here except for one person - the bride. No one had seen or heard from her all day and could I please keep playing for a few more minutes in the hope that she would be located. I indicated to the wedding coordinator that Miss Other and I had plans that hinged on my being out of there at a reasonable hour, preferably around 3PM. The wedding coordinator and Miss Other were close friends so she promised to do what she could. However, without the bride, how much can one do.

I continued playing eventually going into an improvisation on that most appropriate tune from "My Fair Lady" , "Get Me To The Church On Time". Finally at 2:45PM the bride arrived. Apparently she had come down with a rather severe case of cold feet and almost called the whole thing off. However, she decided finally to go through with it. She spent another 30 minutes in the limo recomposing herself. At 3:15PM I was told that it was time to start.

The start of the ceremony was the lighting of the candles. As a symbolic gesture it had been decided to have the mother of the bride light the candles. A nice gesture indeed. Now, Mrs. Mother of the Bride was the frugal type who could not fathom paying approximately $1,000 for a dress that she probably would wear only once. So she did the next best thing - no, she did not rent a dress! She went to Nordstrom's and obtained a rather lovely frock with the intent of returning the garment for a full refund once the event was over. Thus, the price tags, labels, etc. were left on the dress. Furthermore, she had neglected to tuck them away so that they would not be seen. Thus attired she made her way to the platform to light the candles.

Mrs. Peasporridge, the wife of the good parson, was in the congregation near the front and noticed the faux pas. Mrs. Peasporridge was something of a compassionate, caring soul, always trying to correct any wrong, real or perceived. To put it more sarcastically, she was co-dependent to the max. Upon seeing the dress with the tags, etc. hanging out, she made her way to the platform also. From her little bag of tricks (her purse) she produced a small pair of scissors and in front of the entire assemblage began to follow Mrs. Mother around the platform area, snipping tags as she went. When she had completed her snipping duties, she returned to her seat, with the tags, etc., in hand. Mrs. Mother, seemingly unperterbed, continued with her candle lighting duties.

Once the candle lighting was complete Mrs. Mother made her way to her own seat. The route she chose took her past Mrs. Peasporridge. We shall attempt to draw a curtain of charity over what transpired next. For you see, Mrs. Mother was neither a member of the church nor an adherent of the faith, or any faith for that matter. Shall we say, the air in the church turned blue as some rather colorful expletives issued forth. Mrs. Mother ended her speech by suggesting that Mrs. Peasporridge might want to go and attempt to do something that was physically impossible. She then took her seat and the ceremony proceeded without further mishap.

I finally was able to leave the church about 4:30PM and went immediately to Miss Other's apartment. Dinner was waiting, actually it had gotten cold. Miss Other did not initially believe my story, however, when her friend the wedding coordinator called and apologized for delaying our plans she believed me.

Ichabod and the Girdle

2005-10-28T11:06:00.000-07:00

When I first began my tenure of service at the Temple I was just the accompanist/organist. About a year or so after I went there I ascended to the Minister of Music position. During the first year I worked with the current Minister of Music, I'll call him Ichabod.

As a musician, Ichabod was fairly competent, particularly with certain styles and technology that were considered to be cutting edge. However, in people skills he was somewhat deficient; this deficiency was further compounded by an over-inflated ego and a very high opinion of himself, his abilities and his power over the opposite sex. Ichabod was also engaged to be married to a person of the opposite gender very much like himself. Several of the pundits in the congregation had stated that this was a match made somewhere and that these two truly deserved each other.

With his caring heart and winning way with people, Ichabod had managed to irritate, annoy and alienate everyone in the choir and a fair percentage of the congregation. No mean feat considering the psychological make-up of the church at that time. One of the persons that Ichabod had managed to irritate the most was Miss Irene, a soprano in his choir.

Miss Irene was a lady of a certain age, an autumnal matron, who in her earlier years had been a ravishing beauty. She had also achieved a certain amount of success in the music business as a singer and composer. She naturally felt that the Temple Choir would be a good showcase for her works, no matter how dated they were. Ichabod felt otherwise and told her so, publicly. From that moment forth, Miss Irene berated Ichabod to any and all who would listen. As he had pissed off a fair amount of the people in the church she found many willing ears to listen and willing mouths to spread the word. Part of her invective against him was her oft-stated opinion that he needed a girdle.

Now Ichabod considered himself to be an excellent specimen of manhood with a body beautiful direct from the pages of Muscle&Fitness. He had expressed concern on several occasions that the single women of the church (there were several) would be able to accept the fact that he was engaged and no longer available. The women survived. In reaity, Ichabod's physique was closer to that of the Pillsbury Doughboy; he had a very prominent pot belly and wore his hair spiked (long spikes) on top and long in the back. Quite a sight.

As I stated earlier, Ichabod was engaged to be married. He had brought his intended, Miss Paininthe Arse from New York to California to await the happy day. He also lost no opportunity to announce the impending day of reckoning and dropped numerous, strong, thinly disguised hints for wedding gifts. Some took the hints, most did not. One, however, who did was none other than Miss Irene.

One Thursday evening Miss Irene arrived about 20 minutes late for choir rehearsal. She appeared at the back door of the room and announced rather loudly that she had a gift for Ichabod. Icahbod's vanity kicked into high gear and his eyes grew big at the prospect of a gift, even from his nemesis, Miss Irene. In addition to everything else, Miss Irene was a person of means.

Everything stopped as Miss Irene made her way to the front of the room with a large paper bag. Once up to the front with Icahbod she reached into the bag and pulled out a rather large, ladies long-line girdle and announced to Ichabod that this was for him as he needed it.
She then smiled and took her seat in the soprano section, apologizing to the other singers for being late and asking what piece we were working on.

Stunned, Ichabod tried to recover his control of the situation. The rest of us looked at each other for support and turned various shades of red, blue and purple trying to stifle the laughter. At the end of the rehearsal Ichabod's fiance, Miss Arse, came up to me, mad as a wet hen:

"Who does that woman think she is? That is MY man, not hers!"

"We're having enough trouble keeping our minds pure without her giving him that to lust over!"

Choking, from holding in the laughter, I beat a hasty retreat muttering something about having a sick aunt.

Brother Rhoid and Brother Big

2005-10-24T07:24:00.000-07:00

The Temple of Doom was and is a church with an extremely colorful past, present and future. Something was always happening there, things planned and unplanned. If you didn't see it there, it probably didn't exist.

On Sunday evening there was to be a special awards service honoring some leaders of the denomination for their years of selfless service to the movement. One such person receiving an award was Brother Rhoid - a prominent power player in the movement. He was well aware of the propensity of the Temple for the unexpected, offbeat and sometimes downright weird. Therefore, he had given explicit instructions that nothing, repeat nothing was to distrub or interrupt his award ceremony.

For a service with this much pomp and ceremony, Parson Peasporridge had invited numerous members of the Curia. Among this group was Brother Big and Sister Wigg, the wife of another prominent personage. They were seated on the stage directly in front of the curtains in some rather imposing wooden throne-like chairs.

Midway through the proceedings the audience noticed that Brother Big seemed to be nodding off. Many, who by now were bored with the long list of accolades of Brother Rhoid, began watching the show - they were not disappointed. Brother Big soon passed out totally and fell onto the stage floor with a thump. The stage crew, mindful of Brother Rhoids instructions, worked out a creative manner in which to deal with the situation. Soon, the audience watching this side-show saw four arms extend from beneath the stage curtains. The next thing they saw was a rather large man (Brother Big was 6'5" and approx 300lbs) sliding face down across the stage, seemingly under his own power.

Sister Wigg, seated on the other side of the stage was not to be outdone. Sister Wigg was the wife of an prominent member of curia and was a rather colorful, outspoken character. No one ever doubted where she stood on any given issue. As the evening wore on her patience wore thin and her boredom was evident. She went to sleep, a deep sleep and began to snore. The acoustics of the church were nearly perfect; from various points on the stage one could speak in a whisper and be heard everywhere, without the aid of a microphone. Sister Wigg was seated in just such a spot. Brother Big had just been pulled behind the curtains when the audience's attention was drawn to the other side of the stage. At this point Brother Rhoid was in a high state of agitation at being upstaged not once but twice. Yet, for once he was powerless to do anything.

As the snoring continued, Sister Wigg began to relax more and more. She leaned her head on the side of the chair and began to slide down. As she slid down, the designer dress slid up and the legs began to spread. She was also wearing a wig and it was now askew. At this point no one was paying any attention to Brother Rhoid and his honors. Sister Wigg's husband was seated next to her and had been totally oblivious to all the distractions, giving his full attention to Brother Rhoid. However, when the snoring increased he noticed and gently nudged his comatose wife - to no avail. A couple seconds later a more forceful nudge was applied. The effect of this was less than desirable. Sister Wigg did wake up - however, not quietly - she shouted "Praise the Lord!" The audience, finally being pushed to the limit of their endurance, lost it totally.

Another fun time at the Temple.

Romeo and Juliet

2005-10-20T12:29:00.000-07:00

Yet another story from the Temple of Doom.

Romeo and Juliet (their real names folks, not fake) were a couple in the church that had decided to get married. The bride, Juliet, had expressed a desire for a large church wedding, however, due to the constraints imposed by a non-existent budget, this was not feasible. The pastor of the church, a good 'ol boy type, was sympathetic to their plight and enlisted the aid of some of his minions in rectifying this.

Since they wanted a large church wedding, it was decided to hold the ceremony on a Sunday night, immediately following the regular Sunday evening service. There was an extra added benefit to this; all the services of the church were broadcast live over the church-owned radio station. Thus the wedding of Romeo and Juliet would be boadcast to all listening in throughout the greater Los Angeles area.

The bride had champagne tastes on a less than beer budget but wanted to decorate the church appropriately. At a previous wedding there she had seen bunting of some type strung between the rows of seats down the center aisle and wanted this for her wedding. As I said earlier, there were some constraints imposed by the lack of any type of funding for the event. Again, some of the minions of Parson Peasporridge came to the rescue with a trip to the janitor's closet. The closet yielded some very lovely 2-ply Nice n Soft toilet paper in pastel shades. This was strung between the rows of seats down the center aisle of the sanctuary for a very nice, and somewhat fragrant, effect. That is, if you didn't look too close. Unfortunately the janitor closet did not have anything that could be used as a runner down the aisle. As the church was non-liturgical, there were no candles available.

Juliet had also expressed a desire for some floral arrangements to adorn the church. Again, Parson Peasporridge sent his minions forth and from a storage room in the basement they procured some interesting arrangements, all artificial, and most with a very nice Christmas theme. It was decided by Mrs. Peasporridge that it would be nice if the platform area could at least have a modicum of floral fragrance up there. I lived next door to the church at the time (due to a momentary lapse of sanity) and was asked if I had any floral scented bathroom spray at home. I replied that I did not - however a friend of mine (equally warped as I) went to the men's room backstage and procured a can of strong deodorizing spray. This was liberally sprayed throughout the platform area. Mrs. Peasporridge was pleased with the effect and commented about how nice everything looked and even smelled whereupon my warped friend commented that smelled "just like the men's room."

The ceremony went off pretty much without a hitch witnessed by the church congregation and a large delegation from the residents of the park across the street all broadcast through the courtesy of KFSG to the greater Los Angeles area.

The reception was an event. It was held immediately after the ceremony in the church social hall, again attended by the congregation and the delegation from the park. The catering was an eclectic mix of various cuisines. One of the sisters in the church owned a bakery and donated a large sheet cake - an unclaimed one that had been ordered for a retirement party. The church had a commissary that fed the homeless and others in need. Parson Peasporridge pressed them into assisting with the catering. They contributed a selection of day-old pastries and week-old fruits from Albertsons as well as a selection of USDA cheese (American) and about 100 cans of out of date apple juice in individual cans. Coffee was provided by the FWI group.

The park delegation had a grand time and wished the couple Godspeed and a long life.

The Funeral

2005-10-12T17:46:00.000-07:00

Note: The following is true - names have been changed to protect the innocent.

While serving as organist/music director at a large urban church, one of the more prominent ladies of the church passed to her eternal reward. The funeral was set for 11:00AM on a Saturday morning at the church.

As the organist, I arrived at approximately 9:45AM to check any last minute details and rehearse with the soloist. The Body was to arrive at 10:00AM. 10:00AM came, no body, 10:30AM, still no body, 10:45AM, 11:00AM, 11:15AM - no body. The presiding minister and the family were beside themselves - there was a hearse driving around town somewhere, lost with Mama in the back. Finally, at 11:45AM the hearse and body arrived. The driver, had indeed, gotten lost and had driven all over town for about 2 hours. He never thought to stop and call.

Anyway, he took the casket out and placed it on a gurney. However, he did not realize that he had parked at the top of a slight hill - with just enough gravitational pull to cause the gurney with casket on it to start rolling. No one realized what was happening. However, the church was circular in construction, and from the organ I could see everything that was transpiring outside.
As I said earlier, the gurney and casket began rolling down the hill toward a rather busy intersection. I watched with fascination as the gurney began to roll wondering if anyone besides me saw what was transpiring. As the cart rolled past the next to last glass door in the front of the church a cop had fortunately seen what was happening and was chasing the cart. He managed to retrieve it before it crossed the street - against the light.

The cart and casket were then brought into the narthex of the church and from there into the sanctuary. What the funeral again did not realize was that there were three steps leading down from the narthex into the sanctuary. The casket was taken off the gurney and physically carried - almost totally upright down the stairs into the sanctuary. For most people, common sense would kick in at this point and say "Stop - before we go further check to see that everything in the casket is OK" Unfortunately, that did not happen here.

The family had elected to have an open casket service. When the casket made it to the front of the church and was opened - things had shifted somewhat.

The sight that greeted the congregation and mourners was one that will not be soon forgotten. The body had shifted downward toward the head. The head and shoulders were raised up and the head was turned looking out at the congregation. To make matters worse, the woman was wearing a wig and it was askew. Again, common sense would have said - close the lid. However, that did not happen - it remained open throughout the entire service. Furthermore, the congregation was brought foward row by row to pay their last respects. Almost without exception as they passed the coffin, they either bowed their heads or walked as fast as they could.

Another eventful occasion at the Temple.