Hey y'all. Been busy around here and haven't had much time for the soup, but I've got some free time today so I thought I'd post a blog, maybe a poem, and read some poems, too. Also, I have an amusing story or two for ya.
Okay, so I have an uncle ... Uncle Leon. He's actually my wife's uncle. His whole family does their best to avoid him...yeah, he's THAT kind of uncle. He's 76 years old with a big, crazy mop of snow white hair. He's big, too. At 75 years old he's about 6'2" and weighs in at about 275 lbs. He's crabby and he likes to argue, but for some reason he took a liking to me when we first met about 15 years ago. (Oh yeah...he's rich...which is the only reason that most of his family puts up with him at all. And seeing as how he doesn't have a wife or children of his own, they're all just waiting to see what they get....pathetic, I think) He knows I don't give a rat's behind about his money, and I think that's part of the reason he likes me so much. Anyway, Leon and I have had several little adventures together. He likes to be out and about, and he doesn't embarrass me like he seems to embarrass his blood family, so I don't mind doing stuff with him. He DOES guard his money pretty closely, however....course, he gives my kids about 20$ a week, each, and that's cool. They got more money than me...;)
Once, when Leon and I had been out to eat, which, by the way, turned into a 4 hour ordeal, we stopped at a gas station to fill up and get him a candy bar. I filled the truck up and he went in to pay. I waited, and waited, and waited. Finally, I went in to see what was the hold-up. He was raising hell with the cashier over 3 cents and a Mr. Goodbar. I had to drag him out. He complained about being overcharged the rest of the way home. Also on that trip, we stopped in the middle of the highway 3 times so he could pee, and nearly had a head-on collision with a cop once....I drove after that incident.
He was recently banned from riding his hoveround in town on the grounds of reckless driving. I thought that was pretty cool, and congratulated him on a job well done. There are 5 or 6 restaurants in town here and he's banned from most of them.
Anyway, he decided to show up at church last Sunday. We sit in the balcony...I like my little hidey-hole up there...;) I guess someone downstairs told him I was up there because I heard him when he was coming up the stairs. It was after the singing was over so it was fairly quiet and then I hear...."TALUM! TALUM! Where's Talum? He up there? Hey Talum!"....yeah, he hasn't gotten my name right in 15 years and I've resigned myself to being called Talum. I jumped up and ran down the stairs to meet him, tell him to shut up, and help him up the stairs....which I did all those things. When told him to shut up he said, "Oh...gotta shut the hell up in church, huh, Talum?"...haha.
So the service went on and he cleared his throat every chance he got ... even burped and yawned a few times(LOUD). I elbowed him on several occasions and said, "Be quiet, dangit...you're embarrassing Amanda."...and he was. Another cousin of ours who WAS sitting next to us had gotten up and moved to the other side before Leon and I had ever made it up the stairs. His reply to my elbows was to hold his throat and say, "I can't help it, Talum....I can't help it."........Me..."Yeah, whatever, man"
I was a little nervous that he would start talking to me...the dude can't whisper. Plus, he cusses a lot and I just knew he was gonna drop the F-bomb at the worst possible moment...not that ANY moment is the RIGHT moment to drop the F-bomb in church. Waiting for the bomb to drop, I thought back to anotherr situation in church where a word bomb was dropped at the best, or worst possible moment.....
There was a guy in town named Clyde. He's dead now and this was maybe 10 or 12 years ago. Clyde had been hit by a train when he was a young man and it messed him up pretty bad. Before the accident, he was going to medical school...and was something of a genious. I used to mow his mom's yard where he lived and I'd always drink a cup of coffee and visit with him while I was there....so I liked Clyde. He was not only physically messed up....the train accident had messed his mind up as well. He spoke REALLY loud.
Back to my story...Clyde showed up at church one day. He was sitting right in the center aisle where people walk past. It was the part of the service after everyone is done mingling and the pastor gets up front and calls attention....and then it gets really quiet...you church going folks know what I mean. Well, the associate paster, Homer Collins, was an old running buddy of Clyde's in their younger days. Apparantly, they hadn't seen each other in a long time. So, as Homer was walking past to go up front, he stopped to shake Clyde's hand and whisper, "Hi, Clyde, good to see you here"....or something like that, I'm sure. Clyde looked up at him, recognized his old buddy, and at the top of his voice declared, "WELL GOD**MN!!! HOMER COLLINS!!!" Oh mercy, it was beautiful. There was an immediate and sharp inhale of breath throughout the entire congregation...all at once....and every head spun. It was total shock. Homer smiled in a very embarrassed sort of way, patted Clyde on the shoulder, and made his way up front in shame. HA...It was awesome. My brothers and I couldn't stop laughing...neither could my dad...our wives elbowing us in a frantic sort of way. Don't get me wrong...we weren't making fun or anything...because Clyde didn't know the magnitude of what he had just done. But it was SO DARN FUNNY. I have to think that even God found that one amusing. Clyde was just an innocent, after all. The pastor took it in stride. He smiled and said, "Well, I guess that's our cue to get started." I'd give darn near anything to have that service on video...;)...Inappropriate church behavior...gotta love it.