The Loggans Lamb Jam

Someone is gumming up the works and it has something to do with Eulalia Loggans Lamb, the second wife of Robert Lamb, whose wife Ellen Pollock possibly deserted him and ran way with a certain direct ancestor of ours who was very wicked in his younger days, our great-grandfather Carlton Calkins, whom we remember only dimly as that dotty old codger who was most of the time stored away in a nursing home and brought to the house only for special occasions. He was sort of senile but Grandpa Calkins seemed to have him well under control most of the time except when he was kicked out of one nursing home for being too rowdy. He had to be moved to a different nursing home that would take him. Ella Pollock already had five Lamb children so she did not need to ruin her life in that way but it is a sad story in the annals of history that we cannot erase or entirely ignore. No one ever said anything about that to me. I only learned of these facts through research.  Grandpa Calkins' mother, Ella Marsella Collins, died in 1915, after which the Grandpa Calkins and his two brothers were placed in an orphanage in Pasadena. It appears that while they were living in an orphanage in Pasadena, our great-grandfather was living in Fresno in some other family arrangement of which we were not aware until now. Oh, I didn't know that but there are clues in the 1920 census. He had remarried quite soon after in 1915 a second wife, Mrs. Ella Lamb, nee Pollock, (d. 1971) who had apparently deserted her husband, Robert Le Roy Lamb (d. 1943), having taken at least some of the Lamb children with her. Robert's second wife was Eulalia Loggans, a Mississippi-born woman who died at Fairbanks, Louisiana, in 1965.

And then again there is the Ruth Lamb living with her grandmother, Ella Pollock, in Idaho in 1920. I don't know what the connection is there.

And why would we want to be hearing from the nasty wicked Lamb children ever again in this lifetime given the icky nature of our family connection? Eulalia might have been the Lamb children's stepmother but she was not related to us in any way, nor were we even aware of these self-absorbed, spoiled rotten Lamb children who never were important to us anyway, not being even aware of their existence, nor are we yet impressed with their snarky attitudes. I have no reason to imagine that I owe any allegiance whatsoever to this horrible Lamb-Loggans conglomerate.

If you want to take a speck out of your own eye I suggest that you first remove this monstrous Lamb-Loggans out of your own eye and then you will see your own Mississippi wretchedness. You don't really have anything on us do you? It was all just your delusion.

Whiny Carol

Yes, what would a whiny Hollywood, Florida, starling like Carol know about theology anyway? A couple of years or so after I left, I heard that Carol was fired after recommending her own promotion. A B-movie couch potato is just not going to understand who I am obviously. She wanted to be in charge of everything but virtually running the distribution department was just not enough preparation for running the whole show obviously, with all of its art and editorial functions. Carol went on to a long career at the telephone company which seems more fitting to Carol's talents. What would Carol know about the rules of editorial anyway? Obviously, a career built on breaking the editorial rules is not going to get that far up the publishing ladder. It is not just about distributing words. You have to know which words to distribute. And what sane person would want that headache anyway? Life is short.

Makes You Wonder

So my great-grandparents frequently visited the San Gabriel Mission, possibly to stroll around the beautiful gardens, but there is no explanation given in the diaries. There is also no explanation of why Daniel Boone was not present at New Orleans to shoot the British in the eyeballs under Andrew Jackson's command in the War of 1812. Daniel Boone's sons were there but Daniel Boone, at 80 years old, was himself too old by that time for military duty. Also not offered is an explanation of how we could possibly imagine a connection to Debbie Boone's Gabriel Ferrer when we had never seen the diaries in the first place? Yes, it does make you wonder who did that. And it also makes you wonder why I would have cared anyway even if I had read the diaries. There are many questions there that I cannot answer.

Which Reminds Me

Years and years ago when I was working as secretary to the distribution department of Editorial Vida under Carol Long I remember that one day I was in Harold Mintle's office to restock his desk drawer. He was not anywhere in the building that day so in order to do that I pulled out the drawer and in the process briefly sat down in Harold Mintle's desk chair. It was just at that precise moment that Carol Long opened the door, stuck in her head and sharply reprimanded me for trying to occupy a position for which I was not qualified or hired. I never seem to hear the end of that. I keep Carol Long yapping and snapping at me every time I turn around, as if she ever knew what she was talking about. As if just sitting in a chair meant anything really. I imagine there is a lot more to understanding the Mintles' sick mentality than just sitting in a chair. I was never in Ecuador so I have no idea.

Yes, It Does Make You Wonder

In reading great-grandmother's diaries, it is puzzling to learn that throughout the 1940s they spent quite a bit of time visiting at the San Gabriel Mission. Quite often it is reported that "Pop" has gone to the San Gabriel Mission and she occasionally goes there with him but often times not. It does make you wonder why they would spend that much time visiting what is probably an interesting historical destination and museum and lovely gardens to walk around maybe 4-5 miles from their house in Pasadena for those who are into that kind of thing but in terms of church not really a place for Pentecostal-Protestants like us to be frequenting every Sunday morning. I myself once walked around the grounds of San Juan Capistrano Mission and saw what is there for tourists to see but I have not returned there, having already satisfied any curiosity I might have had on that subject. Aficionados of California history know well that before California became a state there was a series of Catholic missions built up and down the West Coast even as far north as San Francisco and these are at present frequently visited by tourists and history buffs. The San Gabriel Mission is now staffed by the Claretians, I see from their website, but in early centuries it was often the Franciscans who were involved in Christianizing the native populations before the area was flooded with white people who brought their Protestant churches with them. Ok, whatever. It does make you wonder why some people imagine that we were ever a Catholic family. Wasn't everyone's family Catholic back in the Middle Ages? But why would we want to regress to a former state of ignorance when we have learned better now? You cannot stop the progress of history like you cannot stop the ocean from eroding the beach at Oceanside. Things will always change. It is more about how you change rather than whether there will be change. Change is inevitable.

Which Reminds Me

And all I did was make some comment about my mother's erratic driving and Paul Trittin (pronounced "True Teen") made some rude remark about my being a horrible person, as if mother were not continually pumping the gas pedal up and down which makes the ride sort of lurchy. Ok, whatever. Anyway, it is not like Paul should be allowed on the road at all given his terrible track record.

If Only

Now if there were only some easy way to conclude the Trittin's involvement in this matter. Was it not Mrs. Trittin who invited us, meaning myself and Sue and a few others, maybe Pam or Susie or someone, over to her house early one morning for a special breakfast of cinnamon rolls or something like that while watching on television the wedding of Prince Charles and Lady Diana Spencer? Yes, we all had a nice time watching the beautiful wedding on TV not unlike millions of other American TV viewers. I don't remember anything specific, the carriage ride, the very long train, the flower girls, etc. No, I do not recall very much about that. Fortunately it was only a few blocks from where I lived at the time in Cooper City so it didn't take too much of my time to get there and back home. Interestingly, the Trittins had moved here after living several years in Belgium in Europe working with the correspondence course people there.

Of course, everyone knows by now that after leaving here the Trittins went to Kansas City where they blew their huge Burger King inheritance out the window with their high falutin expensive lifestyle and then he turned gay and obviously lost his papers and moved to Chicago while she returned home to her parents' house, their two or three daughters now grown and married. Sort of a sad end to that story. We did not see it coming but then again there are those who say that there were clues. Some people say they figured it out sooner than the rest of us. Most of us only heard about these clues after the fact. Paul was always unbelievably rude to me personally but that was perhaps not related.

Anyway, does he not realize what a huge embarrassment he is to the Assemblies of God after being there and pretending to represent us and then completely turning his back on everything that we believe in? That Paul was unbelievably disdainful and insulting to me personally that time when we were standing there on the corner waiting for my mom to drive around means not very much in retrospect as Paul's opinion was obviously not worth anything anyway. It is not like Paul would ever be able to get his papers back even if crawling on hands and knees and begging because he obviously went too far, and anyway Paul was only a lousy artist anyway. It is not like his skills are needed. Skilled artists are a dime a dozen nowadays so artists who cannot live by the rules will find that replacing them is not so difficult as they might imagine.

Which Reminds Me

I do not understand why everyone is so attached to my surname, as if I ever enjoyed sharing it with Kaye and Linda, two aunts who never brewed anything helpful that I can recall. If there ever were a suitable husband in existence I am sure that trading my surname for another would not be a problem, no insult to my father intended. Some persons have gotten me confused with Susie Stewart who talked about being so in love with her own surname that she even prayed about keeping her surname after marriage and then wound up marrying Buzz Stewart, so God answers Susie's prayers. I would never pray Susie's prayer for myself. I mean, well, in my opinion Buzz is nothing. Just because I heard Susie talking about that, as did so many other people, that does not mean that I share the sentiment.

Correction

I mistakenly said that Diane's senior recital featured her musical compositions. I only attended her junior recital of which that is true. I was already gone the following years so was not able to attend her senior recital whatever that was.

My Cruel Accusers

How cruel of these stupid Baptists to accuse me of stealing Pearl Buck's missing manuscript. As if I would ever imagine getting away with that. Nor was I ever the secretary who actually did that. A maid is obviously not qualified to write a Pulitzer Prize-winning novel, especially not a thieving maid. Anyway, in case you missed the news, the FBI recovered the missing manuscript in 2007. Five years ago and you Baptist idiots are still floating these false charges. The manuscript went missing in 1966, stolen by one of Buck's secretaries. The manuscript was only found when the secretary's daughter tried to put it up for auction.

Yes, Pat Robertson bid failed and he only dreams of being in possession of the Rockefeller's private library, as if we ever thought of going there. We don't even know those people nor do we care to sell ourselves in slavery to those filthy rich people. We are not the maid who stole the book.

And anyway, if Arthur Henderson Smith's books are all over the place, he should not be surprised if persons pick them up and read them and apply the information contained therein. Once the information is on the page you cannot control what people do with that.

If you can prove your charges of plagiarizing Smith, then why not come forward with this supposed evidence? Obviously you are just behaving like a boy, not a mature adult. You are just killing for killing's sake, not because you are in the right, only because you are in the power, and as any good Confederate slaveholder will tell you, the power is all that matters, right or wrong.

To Conclude

Yes, it is somewhat heartening to know that Tinker dogs brush their teeth every morning and put on their socks one at a time, if they wear socks at all, and wash their dishes and mop their floors, etc., just like everyone else on the planet. How nice. However, that does not make them my friends. It only means that they qualify as human beings, just as I do, naturally. We should not jump to unwarranted conclusions about these people based only on their housekeeping task fulfillment. There is a lot more to people than just what they do or how they work cleaning houses. There is a long-term political agenda there, also, that might give us indigestion if we only knew. That is why we cannot just let them run away with the show. We have to control them if we can. And if we can't we are going to be sunk.

Which Reminds Me

Genealogy research reveals that Trina Tinker is actually Mexican, descended from a Mexican general on her mother's side. I am not sure what the political implications of that are but it is interesting to note the Mexican loyalties of the Tinkers, not that I would know anything about that. I really don't know the Tinkers personally. They look sort like regular Americans so you really wouldn't know that from just seeing their faces walking around high school, that they are tapped into a whole different political complex. That is true of a lot of people from high school. You should never be too certain of what they actually represent because it is very complicated.

Which Reminds Me

The art instructor at our high school was Grant Tinker, from whom I took art lessons to avoid being humiliated once again by Mr. Bosworth, the high school's erstwhile bandleader, in pre-calculus. Yes, Bevy won the clarinet contest. So? Obviously the clarinet would not be playing a significant role in my future life and occupation. Whether Grant Tinker was related to the family of high school classmate Trina Tinker I really could not say, nor did I ask, nor did he volunteer any information on that subject, but the surname equivalency does make you wonder. However, I do seem to remember that Grant had a British accent whereas the Tinker classmates did not. Grant spent much of the time coaching Thomas Hills on his painting and almost none of the time coaching me but I am only a girl anyway and all I produced was a lousy picture of a tree, which possibly landed in a garbage can because I don't seem to have it anymore, so it was obvious that the visual arts were not going to play a large role in my future occupation. Just mixing colors is not enough. One has to have techniques and I had none, nor did Tinker seem to have anything to give. Grant was not much help at all. Made you wonder what he was doing there anyway. There was really no reason to resurrect that insignificant trivia. It just does not matter anymore.

Food Jokes

Did I ever mention how much I hate food jokes? With a name like mine, which if sounds like candy only if misspelled, it was inevitable that persons would make jokes about eating me and aren't I sweet, etc., etc. How do you think a first grader feels when bigger persons are ominously threatening to "eat" her? Yes, I have mixed feelings about food jokes, obviously, and then there are the Candy Cane jokes and the red-and-white jokes, etc. etc. I am not amused. I am just going to ignore that, obviously, because it does not necessarily mean anything. Or maybe it does and I really will be eaten and perish at the hands of these leg-pulling whiny cannibals. I don't know. Still, there is just no telling when these cannibals might finally decide to finish off their meal of me in which case how am I supposed to get out of this trap? Surrounded by cannibals and nobody cares. That's life.

Which Reminds Me

I am reminded of something that Jennie Cerrullo did to Rusty Wycoff and Cori Nipper to Paul Olsen. The one I saw myself at college and the other I heard tell. Cori told of doing this herself and thought it was very funny. I do not approve of that message but am not in a position to have them arrested.

The Gift

Of course it is fairly clear that some of my cousins also do not have the gift of art. Just look at the way they deride persons who go into fields of art. In this computer age it is clear that art is not going to go away and that people with graphic design abilities are always going to be very valuable for building websites, typography, designing books and magazines, illustrations, visual aids, etc. But I suppose if you spend all your energies on painting pictures it will be hard for you to write a textbook on calculus. No one can do everything.

Which Reminds Me

It did seem strange that artless dork Pam would be showing me Ana Bowen's art album. I was never an art major in college and although I drew pictures when I was younger I soon realized that visual arts were never really my strong point, not that there isn't a bit of that in our family tree here and there. There is really nothing wrong with art for those who have the gift but I really don't think that I want to spend all my time working on something that I am never going to be very good at it anyway. There was someone on our dorm floor at SCC who was very good at that and was taking art lessons on the side but SCC did not have an art major at the time. I don't remember what her name was. Also when I was at Evangel I think it was Becky Nolin (MK-Malaysia) at the other end of the hall who was an art major and fairly good. She had some interesting self-portraits and paintings in her dorm room that we were looking at a time or two.

Which Remimds Me

I am starting to see some type of connection between artless dork Diane Roberts and artless dork Pam Roberts. Here in Miami after college it was odd that Ana Bowen, who had a job in the art department at Editorial Vida, had brought her artwork album to church for all to see but strangely enough it was actually Pam Roberts who was carrying the album around to show people such as me. It was not very impressive and I think said something to that effect, not that I would really know anything about art in any kind of professional way. It was just my spontaneous thought at seeing that, although I probably should have kept my words to myself on that point and not offered any comment to be tossed around. The fact that Ana Bowen was later fired had nothing to do with me obviously. It is hard to understand how a college art major could produce only that but anyway whatever. I vaguely remembered Ana Bowen from Evangel but that is another story altogether. I am not the person who at Evangel was organizing some sort of smear campaign against her but I do remember hearing something about that. If only I could remember who said that. I just don't remember. Ana was very weird. I mean, we are all Christians but if you can't forgive then you are the one who will suffer for that, not me. Sorry but it is your attitude that is the problem.

Which Reminds Me

I like pretty much any kind of bread. Croissants, wheat rolls, rye, sourdough, etc. It is all good to me. Some people were talking about croissants and giving them special meaning but I don't remember the details of that. I don't remember. Personally I like many kinds of bread.

Which vaguely reminds me that during college Steve Wiley worked at the French restaurant at South Coast Plaza and some people talked about seeing him there. However, I do not recall ever eating at that restaurant so I do not remember if I ever saw him there, just another guy who disappeared into oblivion after high school. He was Dennis Buchmuller's roommate come to think of it. You would have to ask Dennis about Steve because I don't remember him.

Makes You Wonder

Why is Diane so worked up into a little snit over me? I really never thought much about her. She sings and plays her guitar those little songs that she writes but anyway nobody was standing in the way of her musical success if such were meant to be. I don't know why things did not work out so well for her but I doubt that it had anything to do with me. It is not like I ever talked about Diane to Mrs. Hummel or anyone else, nor did I really think much about her, so I really don't know what happened there. It would be so unprofessional and amateurish for me to say anything negative about classmates. I am not their voice teacher and it is not my problem if her voice recital is suddenly "out the window," as she said. But, really, targeting me was so low. I didn't do anything to them.

The Tulsa Tomb Complex

And I wonder what makes the horrible Hammond family imagine that we want to hear from the Tulsa gang ever in this lifetime, especially Catherine, after all the horrible things they have done to us behind our backs? We are not interested in being trampled underfoot by these distant cousins of the haughty and arrogant Roberts and the Hammonds and the Brooks. Life is short enough without the horrors of Tulsa being extended to us out here in the hinterlands. There is nothing in Tulsa but the Roberts mausoleum of which there is nothing really to see anyway because those still living are hidden away in their gilded mansions and do not descend from their exalted digs to mingle with lowly nobodies such as myself. Thus I would prefer that the horrible Hammonds go away and stop pretending to care about what happens to me when obviously they don't. They have the China franchise and we have only the box of grandma's china hidden away in the attic. Maybe things are the way they should be and there is no reason to extend this miserable connection to the horrible Hammonds any longer than necessary. Life is short.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I always did have a very low opinion of geeky dork Diane Roberts. She always did have that ugly wobbly quaver in her not-really-that-great voice so perhaps it is not surprising that her musical star did not rise all that high obviously, despite all her exalted rainbow trash connections at the Crystal Cathedral. Just living in the town of Victory does not mean that she won anything much. I cannot say that I know very much about Diane as we never had any classes together anyway although I was her accompanist at voice lessons for maybe a year or so. Lots of pastor kids grow up to be such horrible nasty people and Diane is obviously no exception. Diane is so fuddy duddy old-fashioned and ignorant that she would not be able to comprehend anything anyway so it would be a huge waste of time to try to explain anything more to her. I imagine that she would probably be limited in marriage choices to some snarky lowlife redneck loser because obviously no really intelligent man of achievement would want to tolerate those snarky-stupid fantasies of hers. So obviously just having the surname Roberts only proves that you are the most obnoxious family on the planet and nobody is going to argue with that.

Which Reminds Me

Barbara Demers was my roommate for the second semester of the first year I was at SCC. Her brother was also in college there at the time and one morning sang in chapel accompanying himself on the piano a song that he wrote that was quite satirical and made us all feel like garbage, like we are just not spiritual enough to suit his exalted sense of propriety. It really was a good song if only I could remember what it said. And where is the album featuring Barbara Demers' brother? I probably would buy it just to remind myself what it was because back in those days nothing was recorded.

Which Reminds Me

Of course Diane Roberts, now Diane Cass, probably would prefer to be named as the greatest composer at college I would imagine. Her senior recital was overhauled to eliminate the classical singing that she always hated so much anyway and instead there were mainly some of her musical compositions that she wrote herself in her special music composition classes with Johnny Carl over at the Crystal Cathedral. Diane's senior recital was certainly unusual and featured some musicians that she brought in from somewhere else. I don't remember any details of that. Those were some interesting works they performed. I am surprised that Diane's compositional star has not risen any higher that I know of. Where are the recorded albums featuring Diane and the sheet music available to buy in stores? Maybe I should be searching for more information about that compositional issue because I really don't remember much. Diane preferred to play guitar while singing those little songs that she wrote but I don't remember anything specific.

Which Reminds Me

It becomes obvious that someone is angling for more information about how I know about the Hollywood Bowl. I actually don't know anything about that nor did I ever claim to know. I do vaguely remember overhearing some talk of Warren having gone to some music venue of some sort where his jazz or pop musical compositions were listened to by authority figures who were impressed and expressed their admiration of his musical talent. He always was the best of the bunch in that respect. There was no reason to argue about that. Anyway, I cannot be more specific because I never really understood what that was about. I only overhead something that Mrs. Hummel said.

Which Reminds Me

I vaguely can imagine that snarky Bruce Brock and his snarkily verbose girlfriend and/or wife still sitting there in Tucson trying to make an issue out of me, still expecting me to show up at his front door with his girlfriend's letter in hand to make some issue out of whatever it was she said. I did not actually read the letter that she sent addressed to my parents with his name tucked underneath ala c/o. My mom apparently was not paying attention and opened the letter and read it and then was very embarrassed obviously to see what goes on in Arizona behind closed doors. My mom then handed the opened letter to him without explanation which, well, I don't know if she said something like, Oops, I'm sorry. My mom later told me something about that incident which makes it embarrassing for us to ever contact Bruce in the future because he never really apologized either for regaling us with pathetically bad and corny jokes and stories about college pranks. His obnoxious babble has since reached our ears and thus we are forewarned not to ever go there again because those people are waiting with weapons ready to club us to death and, guess what, we were not planning to roll over and die just to appease their insane appetite for snarky excess. We are U.S. citizens, too, and we know that means we are not required to show them our pedigree papers for permission to drive through Tucson without stopping. It is just none of their business.

Which Reminds Me

During college I heard a rumor about Sandra Santiago (MK-Ecuador) and one of the guys, maybe Scott Hamilton although I am not sure, making out. I probably heard this rumor from Dauna Kammerer who always was so full of gossip. It does sort of make you wonder what really happened if anything but then again it really is not that important to me personally to know anything more about Sandy's personal life. Sandy is nothing to me. It is really none of my business what the Santiagos did in college and I really don't care that much about them. This gossipy tidbit was offered by Dauna as fact but remember that Dauna is not necessarily an authoritative source of information. Dauna does not necessarily know anything. That was just Dauna yapping. I don't really know anything just because Dauna said it. Anything Dauna said would have to be verified from outside and independent sources because Dauna is not really in a place to know what really happened and, anyway, most of what Dauna says just is not worth much. It just wouldn't be worth the effort to try to learn more about that. You would have to ask Dauna where she got that because I have no idea.

Which Reminds Me

It was Silvia Brooke (MK-Costa Rica) who I believe at one time worked as a translator for the Swaggart Ministries organizations. She also worked for the Morris Cerrullo organization as a translator. She has a lot of training in the translation business. Also, I think that Santiago might have worked there in Louisiana although I don't remember anything specific.

How many times do I have to explain this? No, I never worked in Louisiana so I don't know anything about it. The idea was floated of my applying there but that never happened. Over and over again the question comes back around and still there is nothing to put me on the scene. I might have driven through Louisiana once or twice on my way to somewhere else but I never lived there and don't have any connections there that would be useful to you.

I do feel sort of sorry for all those people displaced from there but I don't know anything and life goes on.

Memories

Years ago when we were children we used to think of the blessings of life as missionary kids in terms of things that we "get," as for example the opportunity to travel overseas and learn a new language. These are things that we get. This emphasis on things that we get helps us to not think too much and get depressed about the things that we don't get, such as the opportunity to attend high school in the United States, the proximity of extended family, and other aspects of independent living in the U.S. But now that we are all adults we realize that all of these things may be good or bad but are actually sort of neutral in terms of our self-worth as individuals or things that really matter. Now that we are adults the playing field is more even unless of course we allow for the advantages of birth and training and these of course are outside of our control. And when we get to heaven, whose crown will be encrusted with a greater number of jewels? Whose heavenly mansion will be larger than everyone else's? None of us can be certain of how things will be arranged in heaven beyond the twelve disciples. Obviously some people will just be really grateful to get there at all, regardless of the lack of ostentatious display of rewards, because they know they never did deserve anything anyway. It was only God's grace that bridged the gap for them.

Word Power 2

Yes, and who could forget that book, "Power in Praise," by Merlin Carothers that was so popular twenty or thirty years ago and which we all enjoyed reading from time to time and its sequels? Someone was cracking jokes about Merlin the Wizard but I only heard a vague mention of that so I really can't explain what that was all about or who started that. Carothers, being a Methodist Pastor who lives in the San Diego area, was perhaps not elected to represent the Presbyterians. I don't understand. Perhaps my aunts and uncles could explain what they were thinking because I don't have many clues in that regard.

Anyway, it sounds good to think that positive words might produce positive results, but what do I do when I am given only negative words to disassemble somebody's Electoral College bomb? And then again, do I really know what the problem is? These things are not always as they appear. And who else is using other words to counteract everything I might say, thus qualifying themselves as witches and warlocks because obviously I am always right, know everything about everything and always have the best motives in my heart so that I should always get whatever I want? Hmmm... There seems to be a problem with this word picture. Umm, and the problem is mainly that I am not God.

I really have no idea what this is all about.

Texas Whiners

I wonder why it is that I still have this odd feeling that those Southern whiners who came to our college from CFNI are still targeting me. They majored in Bible and yet they mostly bombed out maybe because they were from the Deep South and did not speak the local California no-accent language. James was Cori's dog, not mine, so why should I care whatever happened to him and/or them? It was strange the way he would turn around and run if he happened to see me somewhere on campus. But just having the surname "Sharp" does not impress, especially with that disheveled hippie appearance. James was not so sharp looking and, for that matter, neither was Jody. They were just some Texas tea whiners who refused to play by the rules and when you refuse to play by the rules you have to pay the price. You cannot get licensed to preach regardless of extensive Bible college classes if you are going to be rolling around in the mud with those pathetic lowlife losers who sold their souls to the bratty rich kids. It is just that simple. Put your mind on higher things or you will be sorry later.

Which Reminds Me

Someone said that Dr. Kelly's secretary and her husband moved to New Orleans after the fiasco. I was already gone one or two years at least whenever that happened. so I really have no idea what actually happened or when or why everyone was so bent out of shape ever after. I mean, really, all these displays of hysterical histrionics just seem so excessive to me. Get a life people.

Word Power

Yes, what were those words that Mrs. Lawrence was putting in my mouth? I don't have any idea what book she was reading but obviously I, a mere student, would not think myself fit to argue with faculty members. Whatever songs they assign is what we have to sing, books assigned we have to read, lectures delivered we have to listen to. I cannot imagine what those people were thinking. Besides, nobody wants to pick an argument with the horrible Tracy family. The Tracys are among the nastiest, meanest, most horrible people that I know of, especially her, and they will make your life miserable if you cross them in any way. Fortunately the Tracys have no claim on me, no connection that will be of any use to them. Nobody asked me but I would prefer to step back and let Mrs. Lawrence duke it out with Debbie because I have no idea what their problem is with each other. Yes, and don't be shy about upchucking those snarky Hiatt dogs. Their grandmother, Judy, was bad enough. The last thing we needed was some cranky Colonel Southwell running around shooting everyone down as if we were the enemy. They have formed some sort of family organization, the Hiatts and the Bates, but we are not invited to participate so we don't want to hear them pretending to represent our best interests whenf actually they don't.

Joke Names

How convenient it is for jokesters that we had a college classmate named "Calvin." Ha ha ha! That right there is obviously a setup for a joke about the great debate of Calvinism vs. Arminianism. Ha ha ha! And who is not a five-point Calvinist? Well, actually, lots of people in the Assemblies of God and other Christian denominations have a problem with the extremes of Calvinism, including the idea of limited atonement, the idea that Jesus died to save only some of the people. Not everyone will be saved and yet God is "not willing that any should perish." Just another paradoxical truth. Calvinists really like to argue these points but we try to avoid this argument because, anyway, both sides are right. As the AG website says: "We agree with the Calvinist emphasis on God's sovereignty or supreme power and authority. But we also firmly believe the Arminian emphasis on mankind's free will and responsibility for his actions and choices. We believe the Bible teaches both truths."

I can't speak for Presbyterian "Buddy" because I don't know what they believe. We never discuss these things with them. The relatives represent quite a wide spectrum of Christians beliefs and denominations and even some not so Christian values. The farther away you get from the source, the more the picture distorts. Which is why the relatives can only speak for themselves, not for me.

Blahness

How can I say anything good about my family when they have exalted Stupid Cousin Laurie way beyond her level of competence? There she is blabbering about astrological signs and horoscope predictions and I am expected to respond to that nonsense. Did Laurie's mother not teach her anything about the evils of reading the horoscope in the newspaper? Always avert your eyes away from that garbage to avoid even the suggestion of evil. Just reading that stuff, even as a joke could put wrong ideas in your mind and you might even act it out just to make it mean something, even though it didn't really mean anything. If you really must do the crossword puzzle you could always fold the paper back so that you don't have to look at the horoscope or else you could go to the grocery store and buy a magazine dedicated solely to puzzles. Preferring not to look like a clone of great-grandmother, this being the 21st century, I personally would choose the "Logic Problems" magazine, preferably the Dell version, which is so much better. They didn't have "Logic Problems" magazine back in the olden days, I suppose, but it is a good idea not to forget how to think.

Which Reminds Me

I vaguely remember arriving almost too late and sitting near the back row of the building when we attended the senior recital of Warren which was a little bit unusual because it included some sort of jazz number featuring that lady with the unusual wooden alto or bass flutes who erstwhile was perhaps known to moonlight for Chick Corea or Chuck Mangione, one of those famous jazz musicians, their names all blend together to my ears, for whom Mrs. Lawrence also had mentioned having worked at some time in the distant past presumably for the money only because she complained that those famous people are not really Christians and were asking Mrs. Lawrence to sing things that were abhorrent to her personally. I have no idea. The recital sounded good to me but of course it had no words. The words of Chick or Chuck would be a serious problem if you really had to sing that but I never even tried to get there so I don't know anything about it. You would have to get that from Mrs. Lawrence.

Birth Control

I thought it was revolting that the high school guidance counselor would suggest mentioning birth control options in my newspaper article. I never did. I cannot imagine why these people are so obsessed with that subject. I read just enough to know that such a discussion is limited to a matter between husband and wife. I am not married so it is not my place to say. I just have no idea why these people would imagine that I would ever discuss that with some guy who was not my husband. They must be out of their psychotic minds to suggest I would ever look at that stuff and somewhat disappointing to see that they would not get in trouble for even suggesting that they tried to do that.

Which Reminds Me

I vaguely recall one time at college some of us jammed into Ernie Deporto's car to go somewhere although I don't remember where. More recently I seemed to be getting messages about him, people trying to match me up with him or make me feel guilty about not being interested. The name "DePorto" certainly would seem to fit the joke, especially as it seems to be sort of in the Portuguese and also the Porto Rican. However, I was never interested in Ernie. I was surprised to see him again a few years ago when I revisited college but, anyway, still there is no spark of interest. Just because the name would fit the Porto Rican/Rio joke quite nicely, I would prefer the road less populated by obnoxious people who will not ever be managing my life whether I am dead or alive, thanks anyway.

Give me liberty or give me death

Basically, I would rather die than to be a slave to this horrible Confederacy of all the people I don't like and refuse to take orders from. Better to die than to be a slave to the horrible Hobby Lobby Greens.

As for the Confederate riff-raff

I fail to see why I should be killed, my inheritance confiscated for not being on the Confederate side of this picture, just because the horrible Patsy Cranford and family is perhaps beholden to the wicked Rebels of Alabama or something like that. I really don't understand. I am not interested in discussing matters of religion or politics with the horrible Cranfords and their Confederate allies. It is really none of their business whether I am Republican or Democrat, voted for Bush or Clinton, Union or Confederate. I am the daughter of my mother and that is all that should matter to them. The Tacketts or Cranfords or whoever it is ought to be ashamed of themselves for bullying me in this horrible way. California people like us have a hard time understanding why we should care about the Southern Rebel posturings of people like Henry and Shirley Kinsey of Panama City, Florida, or, in college, those horrible Mississippi slobs Tim Burnham and artist Gary Hatch, that Alabama idiot James, etc. etc. It gets very tedious and boring to hear about the South when this is supposed to be the United States where the Civil War ended more than 100 years ago. Why should we care whether the South rises again? What could they mean by that anyway? More redneck country music and a Southern air of icy, feigned friendliness? I never did care much for that scene, least of all the horrible Bells and Reeses' pieces, the Reese's being Atlanta whiners. I know that living overseas we had maids who did the housework and someone was trying to use that to make us look like plantation slaveholders but the analogy does not fit in our case. We paid our maids for their work so that was an employment situation, not slavery. Besides, the maid was not being forced to work or browbeaten into submission or handed over by a slaveholder to forced duties. Some working conditions should have been negotiated differently  but, anyway, murdering me is not a logical or justifiable solution to that situation. The psychotic persons inflicting these cruel and unusual punishments ought to be locked down and the key thrown away because this whole situation just isn't right.

Makes You Wonder

Why am I getting all these messages from the pathetically horrible Tracy family? Nobody cares one bit about the pathetically stupid opinions of the pathetically stupid and evil children of the persons who stamped library books in and out. There might be a list of library books that various people read somewhere in the archives but it is really none of their business. They are not allowed into the personal homes of persons to review personal reading habits because we brilliant students are on our honor. Thus, the utterly stupid and idiotic opinions of Debbie and Dale are not admitted into evidence of anything other than their own stupid minds or lack thereof. Everyone always knew that Debbie was semi-retarded so nobody wanted to listen to her vomiting all over the place. I should not be hearing another word from those vile riff-raff. For all your extraordinary effort you get a big fat Zero. Enough said about that.

Which Reminds Me

Years ago while I was working as a reporter/photographer/etc. at the Haines City Herald the newspaper was redesigned in such a way that at the bottom of the front page, in one corner, there was a place to put a little quote from the archives of the newspaper which, surprisingly for such a small town, had a very long history going back to the beginning of the 20th century. I was the person designated to rummage through the archives and find the necessary quote to fill the box. I remember one reference to persons seeing an airplane flying overhead for the first time and running down the street and chasing it to get a better look. Other times, I think more than once, I use quotes referring to William Jennings Bryan, an easily recognizable name of a historical figure who sometimes wintered in Central Florida. These were announcements of his imminent arrival in town for a political speech of some sort some time in the 1910s. I think that was before the Scopes trial put a bitter end to his career. However, regardless of whatever you think about evolutionism vs. creationism, it is still of historical interest for the denizens of Haines City to know that such an eminent historical figure was in their own hometown at some time in the past. I am sure that if Clyde Barrows had stopped in town and left behind some evidence his name also might have appeared in the box. So?

Which Reminds Me

1 Timothy 5:1-2: "Rebuke not an elder, but intreat him as a father; and the younger men as brethren; The elder women as mothers; the younger as sisters, with all purity."

Ok, so this is a Bible verse that reminds me of certain guys in college, particularly Tim and Terry, who often called me their "sister." This was a frequent occurrence during college. Ok, so I don't need a Ph.D. to comprehend the theological foundations of their thinking in doing that. However, it was sort of odd that they would use this particular method so often, with such vehemence, an angry tremor in their voices. So after about a million occurrences of this "sister" appellation it got somewhat annoying to even have to run into those guys anywhere. How stupid do they think I am anyway? Do those guys imagine that I have not read the New Testament and have a comprehension of the idea of Christians treating each other like brothers and sisters? And am I not aware of the horror with which they regarded the idea of a girl calling them a "brother in the Lord," which is why they were always so quick to beat girls to the punch, I imagine not  only me. And was it not I who at age 12, in a conversation with some girls at junior high youth camp, including Sherry Turnbull, remarking upon theoretical future dating scenarios, said that I theoretically might have to tell some guy wanting to kiss me on the first date that I only think of him as a "brother in the Lord" in view of dating rules. On second thought, I think that I would probably not say that in so many words. Some things are better left unsaid. But the unfortunate fact of the matter is that I did express that half-baked thought in the presence of Wicked Witch Sherry Turnbull, that most hideous monster on the planet. With that horrid Panama dog Sherry Turnbull always on my tail I have no way of backtracking on that thought. I am just stuck with those horrible junior high dogs flaunting their junior high dates while nobody asked me. So?

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I am aware of some photographs of the Sara Kugler in our family photo collection. However, I have no idea how they got there. Research shows that her family was originally Mennonite or had Mennonite connections or else her husband Daniel Sheets was of Mennonite extraction or something like that but they ended up in the Pentecostal Oneness camp. Sarah and Daniel were from Kansas but died in Arizona. I don't how it was that they all met in China or what their relationship was with the Barths. It is apparent that they were all at least acquainted but I don't really understand why I should care about persons of which I know almost nothing. Sarah Kugler obviously has her place in history. No one is denying that. I just don't know very much about it. The doctrinal wars of the early 20th century are somewhat dim in my mind. I am sure that further research would bring more information to light but that is a lot of work for no constructive purpose that I know of, just to prove that One looks almost like All, uh? I just don't see the point.

Which Reminds Me

When I was in Kindergarten attending the Lutheran Christian School there one day we were each given a huge piece of paper and told to lay down on the paper and a friend or the teacher drew the outline of our bodies on the paper. Then we colored in our bodies. I tried the white crayon but nothing appeared on the paper. Then I tried a brown or black crayon and that worked well for some other classmate but the teacher reprimanded me because that was not me. The black or brown crayon was not representative of my true skin color. Duh! So then I was instructed to use the orange crayon. Ok, so that was a good compromise even though I have a hard time thinking of my skin as orange and not actually whitish with brownish spots. It is true that orange-based shades of makeup work better for redhead-type skin come to think of it. Pink just clashes in my opinion. So the orange crayon was what I used to finish my drawing of me. I don't remember if I was allowed to redo my drawing or had to just make do with a mismatched arm or leg. I don't remember. I did not seem that important to me at the time. It was a picture that got thrown out in the trash anyway.

Upon Further Research

Digging around in the public records we see that our ancestor, Hugh Calkins, came to America in about 1640 and was living at Norwich, Conn., at about the same time that Thomas Tracy was living there, having apparently abandoned all claims to ownership of Sunderley Castle and the English crown of Egbert, whatever that means. So perhaps Hugh and Thomas met there in Norwich but that was 350 years ago. In our generation we really don't live in the same town or have the same ideas about how things ought to be done. Debbie Tracy only wishes she had the Tioga County connections of Charles Chapin Tracy, the missionary in Turkey who was a faculty member at Anatolia College. The California Tracys are obviously gold-diggers all the way back, not really with any missionary breeding in their bones, so they would not be able to understand what we are talking about if you want to be so Middle Ages about it, a time not really so idyllic in case everyone has forgotten. This is not the Norman Conquest. You only wish you were fighting on the right side of history.

Which Reminds Me

I remember when I was in high school I used to be thinking about things at times when maybe I was in the shower or looking out the window at school and the answer to whatever I was pondering would sort of come to mind and I sort of felt it was like God would be telling things, not for public consumption, just a personal thing. Someone was asking me why I don't ask them to answer my questions and I think I told them that I am really not troubled by a lot of questions because I think I know some things and what I don't know is perhaps not mine to know. Often I just can't know and some things are just not revealed and remain mysteries that cannot really be resolved with the limited information at hand. Thus, I really do not see the need to get all perturbed and worked up about things that I don't know the answers to. Sometimes I just don't need to know everything and I don't know why this should be a problem when obviously lots of people are simply unwilling to admit their own limitations and mental blocks and want to pretend that they know everything even when actually they don't know.

Which Reminds Me

These people are so exaggerated they make me feel like a murderer. Talk about the ultimate guilt trip. I did have some fights with my little sister who was asking for it but I never had any murderous intentions. I remember that when I was maybe 10 years old we ran up the stairs to the rooftop of the house that we were living in and my sister fell off the roof. Nobody pushed her off, certainly not me. She just was stretching and straining to see the fireworks or something that could be seen there and it is hard to describe the layout of the roof on paper but she stepped backward and fell off the roof. She was not really hurt very much, amazingly, just a little dizzy and had to lay down for a while. We should never have gone up on the roof without our parents being home to supervise the roof play times as they usually did but anyway I did not do anything nefarious in that regard. I seem to remember that the two Wicked Witch daughters of Everett Wilson were there but I don't remember whether they did some pushing and shoving. It does seem like the type of thing the murderous Wilsons would do because they really are malicious but I really can't speak for them. Of course my sister is never going to clarify this point because she really likes taking all the favorable attention all for herself and shutting me down. She likes having everyone on her side. In fact, I am not exactly sure that I actually have a sister. Sometimes she so much acts like an adopted member of the family we almost forget.

Did I Forget To Mention?

Of course it goes without saying that the Nelsons have nothing to say about my personal income taxes, whether I use HR Block or not, just as I have no clue about who does their personal income taxes or why the IRS would have a problem with them or be researching the distant connections of the Nelsons nor have the Nelsons volunteered any assistance in resolving the HR Block income tax puzzle that continues to puzzle. I really have no idea why I think they would have some connection to that odd incident of the HR Block involvement in my personal income taxes but anyway I no longer live anywhere near those people in Central Florida who were running the HR Block office there so there is no reason for me to imagine that there would be another problem with them even though I have yet to go back to HR Block for any assistance in matters of puzzle solving. It would be nice if the Nelsons weren't so Dinamarca-ish in their dealings with persons not their Dutch enemies but whatever. They don't work for me so I can't really fire them.

Which Reminds Me

After Susie was fired here she packed her belongings in her car and drove out to California where her sister and brother-in-law were living at the time. Before leaving she gave me a telephone number where she would be. A couple of months or so later I did call her and was surprised to learn that this was the phone number for the home of Susie's cousin Loren Wyrick and his wife at the time, Silla. They have been divorced for a long time now but at the time Susie said that Loren was doing police work while Silla had finished her master's degree and was writing screenplays for television. Susie said that Loren was angry because after Silla had gotten her master's work done they had agreed that she would support him while in doing his master's work but apparently things were not going as planned. She apparently liked being supported and so there was no incentive to help Loren advance beyond his blue-collar police work so that he too could achieve a professional level of work. Loren was stuck in a comparatively low level of grunt work, having to work strange shifts and being in and out at odd hours, said Susie. Also, Loren did not like Silla's friends who he thought were spending way too much time over at their house so that when he would get home from work there would be all these people in the house, Sharon chatting about movies or that rude and boorish Debbie schlepping in and out with her laundry to use their washing machine because apparently her apartment did not provide laundry facilities, which is somewhat hard to believe, or else she just liked having an excuse to go over there. So that is the situation that Susie described to me on the telephone, not that I asked. These things just pour forth from Susie's heart when feels like talking, but she doesn't know who Warren is so she doesn't remember his ever being there. Ok, so generally speaking this tells me that there would be no reason to go there as I really don't like those people very much anyway. They spend too much time yapping in undecipherable code language that I don't understand and, anyway, I suspect that I am not missing anything important by not going there. They are just there but I really don't know them in a personal way. They can't be fired because they don't work for me so I just never go there.

Dancing Tricks

Which reminds me that during college at SCC there was a professional ballerina at our school, her last name was Cheney, who performed once or twice during the chapel services. She was quite good at that. I cannot imagine how people can do all those backflips and somersaults and whatever. I was never even remotely interested in that. I really don't care very much one way or another about the ballerina thing in church. It is not my place to say anything about that so I don't recall saying anything about that. She married Loren Wyrick who is Susie Stewart's cousin but they are divorced now. Susie once said that she is surprisingly foul-mouthed for a supposedly Christian ballerina but I would only be speculating if I said that it would seem that the Stewarts did not like her very much. I doubt that the ballerina dancing was the key to their marital problems, however, as that was well known long before they ever got married. It was probably a wider conflict of cultures, something about the morbid couch potato obsession with movies and television screenwriting as described by Susie, not that I would have a clue about what type of culture if any would describe lowlife slob Loren Wyrick either, for that matter, or if there ever was any thinking going on in his empty head from the start. I have no idea. He never said anything to me nor did I volunteer any opinions about them that I can recall. I really am not interested in taking sides in that battle as I don't really know enough about it. We met his mother in Colorado but he was never present.

We are not unaware that she is trying to position herself as a martyr for the cause of dancing but we really don't care that. The martyrdom was mostly a fantasy of her own making, not really based on anything I ever said. I personally don't see how dancing is so important when millions of people are starving to death in China. I mean, she was just never that important. Just having the surname Cheney does not mean that your father is the vice president of the United States of America that I would know of.