Which Reminds Me

Not long after I had graduated from college and was living in the Fort Lauderdale area, attending the church that was in Oakland Park at that time, I remember that the pastor's wife, Ophelia, had some of the solo singers in the church make videos or audiotapes of themselves singing one of their songs that best represented them. I don't remember which song I did. All of the tapes were sent by Ophelia to TBN, the Christian television network which at that time was not nearly as big as it is now. The only result of that was that Nancy did get to sing on television. I think that Nancy was the only one who got sing on television. No one else was invited that I know of. Of course, incidentally, Nancy's brother-in-law Ed was on staff as one of the assistant pastors, and Nancy's sister also sings very well. They are from Philadelphia. So that was nice for Nancy. In fact, I tend to think that it was about then that the Yearys began to emphasize their preference for staff, reserving such perks for mainly staff and their staff families. As for me, I can take a hint. There was never any need for further reinforcement of the idea that I have no future in television. I am really not very photogenic anyway so I really wasn't expecting anything to come of that. My Dad is an AG missionary but not on church staff. I suspect that if they did put my Dad on church staff they would have to be nicer to me and that would be a problem for them when they already so much despise me. I really don't want to think about them that much anyway. I sort of felt that I would like to forget that I ever sent any tape to TBN because I suspected that their only intent was actually to disabuse me in advance of any notion that there would ever be any television job for me, not that I ever asked. Like I said, I can take a hint. I won't be applying there, obviously. No need to rub it in so abrasively.

Which Reminds Me

I have placed my trust in Jesus my Savior so I see no reason to be intimidated by the Thoracid mutterings of these pagan Cederblom heathens. There is nothing innately Christian about these Swedish tree-huggers as opposed to England or Germany or any other European nation that embraced Christianity during the Dark Ages and prospered thereby. As we all know, salvation only comes by faith in the one who died on the cross for me. Jesus is the only way of salvation for me and each generation must come to their own understanding of this point. I certainly never placed any faith in these shrill Swedish hags who imagine themselves the owners of Pentecostalism. Um, not really. It is more complicated than that, obviously.

Which Reminds Me

Why was I getting messages from that drearily dogmatical Debbie McCracow? Did she not get the message to go back to shrill Sweden where she belongs? Here, just going by the stupid script that I was provided with because I had not even thought of that in the first place. If you cannot think of any original lines then you do not deserve any help from me, obviously. Parrots should be talking to other parrots, not to me. These dogmatically stupid people are killing me and I will not forgive them their dirty tricks. They will pay dearly for their ignorance because it's really not all about them. They will be sorry later. I am just saying.

Which Reminds Me

I suddenly remembered something. I seem to vaguely recall that Dauna Kammerer might have tried out for cheerleader at SCC but obviously she was not successful. Personally I cannot imagine why anyone would want to do that. Cheerleaders are just mindless parrots. Just look at Kelly Misaka and Jennie Cerrullo for prime examples of that.

Which Reminds Me

I would confess to being a bit of a parrot at time but I am not the one who invented those jokes about Missouri being a state of Misery, Springfield a dead ringer for Mecca. I don't remember where I first heard those dumb jokes but anyway I cannot say that I did not repeat them in an idiotically senseless way at some time or another. Sorry about that.

Which Reminds Me

It would seem useless and pointless to travel all the way to Romania for a view of the Bucegi mountains and yet be unable to access the secret vault. Anyway, Peter Moon already did that, as we learned on Youtube. More and better information ought to be forthcoming by now, it might seem to many, more than 10 years after the initial discovery. So where is the History channel documentary? I have not yet found it. I have noticed lots of UFOs flying around the History Channel but no holographic messages from Romania broadcast there as of yet. I suppose that it could be very interesting to see the contents of the holographic tables broadcast on television for the whole world to see assuming that could be done, and then posted on Youtube. But it would seem that the information flow is bottled up somewhere at the top by The Powers That Be. The buzzing bees hint that the Bilderberg group has some say in this matter. That means that money and power have not yet opened the flood gates of information. Perhaps the scholars of Sumerian antiquities are still quibbling over the final translation and other details. Whatever. Anyway, why are you bothering me over that? I certainly have neither money nor power to offer to this endeavor. The typecasting would not permit me a tennis match, obviously. Why is it OK to throw all redheads into the oven along with Hansel and Gretel in this new Turkey-fried scheme of things but not OK the other way around? Surival of the fittest, some call it. Still, I think that something is wrong with this picture. I just don't quite have all the pieces, at least not yet.

Which Reminds Me

Well, wasn't that a cute Romanian hologram? There was a brief vision of a cloaked figure, some type of shaman or seer, suddenly replaced by a blonde lady wearing what seemed to vaguely resemble a white tennis outfit. However, she was not carrying a tennis racket so there is no proof that all of these allusions to games of tennis were in any way relevant. I vaguely recall Judy Thomson once mentioning her family's tennis enthusiasm. She mentioned having recently played tennis with her father. Yet clearly such a primitively stupid Swedish milkmaid bimbo as Judy Thomson could not have been the brilliant personage communicating by holographic means in some dimly lit Romanian vault. The Thompsons cannot translate cuneiform, obviously. Where is the Thomson's Ph.D. in ancient languages? So obviously the Swedes are on the outside looking in. These stupid Swedish people have a lot of nerve trying to promote themselves as superior to redheaded me when obviously their own home country is being overrun by Turkey. If you cannot keep your own native country in order and safety, don't expect us to be handing over the keys of the Kingdom to your clueless Swedish refugees. The Swedes will have to get in line and wait for the book and movie, the documentary and museum exhibits, just like everybody else on the planet.

Which Reminds Me

I always hated it when people asked why am I not married. Of course, it has been a long time now since I have been asked that question but when I was in my 20s and 30s it was getting painful. What am I supposed to say in response to that obnoxious question when there is no Mr. Right lined up and no plans in the making? So usually I would make some speech rehashing the news, all those articles and books I read about the statistics, how women outnumber men, how the odds of marrying decrease as one gets older, etc. etc. So maybe I won't get married. So I said that to an Argentine lady at work, that maybe I won't get married because there doesn't seem to be anyone for me at this time, and later it came back around as if I had pledged to never marry. No, that was not what I meant to say. I would marry if Mr. Right were to make his appearance, someone who cared enough about me to put up with all this guff, but the odds were not good, and besides her name was Delfina so some people took her account as if the Delphic oracle had spoken. Ha ha ha! NOT FUNNY. And then Sandra Santiago made that speech about how women who were young in the 1960s often were single because their eligible men died in Vietnam or disappeared into the drug scene or something like that. And I was not even old enough to be in the generation that Sandra was referring to. But because people choose to talk about these things somehow everything got applied to me even though, well, that was not what I wanted. And I can't exactly disagree because it would be presumptuous of me to assume future marriage when obviously no one is interested in me anyway and who would want to put up with me anyway? So there. Stop asking me these horrible questions so that I won't have to answer.

Which Reminds Me

I am not interested in ministering to Muslims. You must have me confused with Angie Thomson who spent some time getting trained in how to minister to Muslims and said that she would not marry someone who was not called to be a missionary to Muslims. Last I heard Angie was still single. Angie's problem is not my problem. I have not the slightest interest in working with Muslims. There are relief and development programs in existence to provide for the humanitarian needs of Muslims. There are plenty of people well qualified to provide medical and technical advice to the peoples of the Middle East. I would not be qualified to work in that, not that I would even want to do that. I feel sorry for those miserable people but that is not my calling. I only have short time on this earth so I don't have time to worry about that. I have not much acquaintance with Angie who at one time dated Dave Hoskins but that was before Rhonda Hurd got him. I never really considered those people my friends and am tired of being reminded of them in this backwards way. I am really not interested in copycatting Angie's stupid life, thank you very much.

Which Reminds Me

Someone just spent the last 10-12 years picking my brain apart and now they expect to pick up and carry on the work as if nothing ever happened, as if they had not left my brain splattered all over the sidewalk for everyone to step on, as if I could just spin the clock backward and start all over again 30 years ago when I still had lots of time, as if beating my head against a wall would ever accomplish something when I already told you in the first place that it would not. Something just isn't fair about this picture. Someone ought to be paying me instead of the other way around. I am just saying.

Which Reminds Me

During college Tim and Terry were often calling me their sister even though there is no blood relationship there. I am not even remotely Scandinavian nor am I interested in having some Scandinavian witch around to cut me off at the knees every time I turn around. Everyone knows that Scandinavians are natively hostile to redheads and Tim and Terry are no exception to that rule obviously. So if I called Tim a liar I was simply stating a fact and nothing more. Tall tales get tiresome after a while. It gets very insulting to have these Swedish lugs always trying to pull my leg off. And then after I co-won the music award with Tim he threw a hissy fit and accused me of robbing him of his award that should have been his alone. What a pompous little three-year-old Tim is. I never asked for the award nor was I aware of how exactly that happened or why. I think if they were trying to teach Tim some humility it probably didn't work because he just thinks by throwing a fit he can make everything go his way. Someone really ought to teach Tim some humility but leave me out of it.

Which Reminds Me

Anyway, there never was any law requiring that I live on the East Coast as opposed to the West Coast. Last time I checked this was still a free country and theoretically I could live in any one of the 50 states at any time if I should so choose, even across the street from you. Not that I would want to necessarily have to look at your dreary face when taking out the garbage or checking the mailbox but it is just the principle of living in a free country. We never really understood why our cousins moved to Pennsylvania. We never had any acquaintances in Pennsylvania who would be worth such a drastic relocation to be near. I am not sure where this fictional law came from or why some clueless persons are accusing me of breaking a law that never existed. There never was any treaty that I was ever aware of. You only wish you had Hollywood all to yourself.

Which Reminds Me

Someone was saying that Dauna Kammerer liked Tim Cederblom and why was I so selfish that I didn't help her get hooked up with Tim. Well, I wasn't planning to insult Dauna but I really don't think she was being realistic in setting her sights on Tim. After all, Dauna is a Russian KGB agent, as we have learned, whereas Tim is a Swedish Thor type of guy who only went for platinum blondes. Beyond that, I really wouldn't have recommended Tim to any girl at college. Tim always felt threatened by intelligent, college-educated women such as myself. I imagine Tim needed to marry a trashy clueless high school dropout in order to bolster his puffed up ego, obviously. Tim was such a bizarre weirdo in college. One day he walked past me as I was walking away from the dorms and he said to me something about that hickey on my neck being evidence of what Terry and I had been doing. I was shocked. For one thing I had not seen Terry for several weeks, had not been doing anything with Terry, and whatever Terry had been doing with someone it wasn't with me. Also I did not have any hickey on my neck, only a red splotch maybe from brushing my hair and my hairbrush hitting my neck or something like that. So I was horrified that Tim would say such an utterly false, utterly insulting thing to my face. And it is not like Tim would ever apologize for his own rudeness even if I should have a chance to point this out to him. Quite to the contrary, when I did do that a couple of times it only made his attitude even more hostile toward me. Yes, Tim and Terry were such angry people in college, always dishing out the insults on a regular basis even while they would not accept any for themselves. Someone really needed to knock them down a couple of notches but anyway it was really not my place to say what should be done with Tim and Terry. I am just glad they no longer have any place to attack me as I never really did anything to deserve that. Anyway, I was never interested in living in a world managed by the dull and dreary Swedish. Certainly they were not angels.

Which Reminds Me

I am reminded that when I was born my parents named me as I am because they knew of another Candy, a pastor's daughter, and they liked the name except they spelled my name with an "i." I don't think that I actually met my namesake Candy so I really would not know anything about those people. It was only my parents who knew them. Of course it really doesn't matter that my Dad was only a missionary, not a pastor. This allows me to do my own thing. I do not feel myself obliged to fit into the church hierarchy. I am under no obligation to obey the commands of the dull and dreary, clueless people because I don't have to get elected. Now if only I could figure out how to pay all of these bills.

Which Reminds Me

I am reminded that at our college there was a guy named Daniel Amen. I did not know him personally but I remember Lynda Botsford talking about him. She said that he was going on to medical school in Oklahoma. I think that Lynda might have liked Dan but apparently he did not reciprocate the interest, and if a guy is not interested he is just not interested and there is nothing for a girl to do but go shake him off your feet and move on to what is next. So whatever. There would be no reason to look back at Daniel. I don't even remember him. It was only Lynda who liked him.

Which Reminds Me

I was 12 years old the year our family was on furlough in the United States. One day while at the house of the Calkins grandparents our cousins Vanessa and Ralph went with Grandpa Calkins to feed the ducks. I was offered the opportunity to go along but I did not want to go with them at that time. So obviously I would not have the mysterious secret of the bread that was thrown to the ducks. This point is constantly thrown in my face, as if my life is garbage because Vanessa wants to keep her secret all to herself now that Ralph is dead. I am not a duck that I would be interested in eating this mysterious bread. I am sick and tired of Vanessa's pompous arrogant attitude and I would prefer to see Vanessa's selfish greedy head served on a platter along with all of her wicked allies, thank you very much. Now that would be a purpose-driven solution to the problem of Wicked Witch Vanessa.

Which Reminds Me

Someone is reminding me of all the extinct people groups of Chile. Yes, how sound that whole tribes of American people disappeared after the Spanish conquest of Chile and yet no one mourned their disappearance or even noticed they were gone for the most part. They were illiterate and had no voice. So sad.

Which Reminds Me

Reviewing the family collection I noticed some photographs of Alaska but I cannot imagine why. I have no connection whatsoever to Alaska nor any interest in learning more about that. The Butterfields may know something about Alaska but they never tell us anything. So whatever.

Which Reminds Me

At one time there was quite a large tribe of feral cats living in the thicket behind Grandma and Grandpa Calkins' house in California. The feral cats were cute to look at, with a distinctive pattern of brown splotches on their ears and noses, but they were wild. The feral cats possibly scavenged for food in the garbage cans lining the alley but I cannot say that my grandparents also did not leave out food for the cats. I think that eventually animal control came and took the feral cats away to wherever they take wild cats of that sort although I really don't remember. The cats were gone later. One cannot exactly give these feral cats away as pets for small children because they will not let themselves be played with. They fear humans. So there really are not a lot of future options for these feral cats.

Which Reminds Me

I do have a recipe for chicken a la Milanese that was given to by an Argentine person. But I am not Irish so I don't suppose that means anything.

Which Reminds Me

How cruelly I am harassed and tormented by the denizens of the Ignoramus Club. How could you not know that it was Dareda Embry who said that? How could you not know that it was Darlene Bangert who said that? If you had asked me I would have told you straight away but you did not ask. You only conspired to deprive me of my optional husband. I pick the battles I should fight and that was a battle that I walked away from, like so many others, for obvious reasons. All I wanted was my option to marry as I see fit. I am really not interested in discussing the semantics of that or anything else with persons who are not my mother.

Which Reminds Me

During my first semester at SCC there was a group of girls gathered in Heather Stewart's dorm room all listening to Dolly Bangert (Din) spewing obscenities. Well, enough has been said about that. One of the persons that I think was present was Teresa Glowacz who at the time was dating Mike Beals who has now ascended to the college presidency. However, as it turned out Mike did not marry Teresa. His wife's name is something else, maybe Faith. I don't think I ever met her. Whatever happened to Teresa I really would not know. I lost contact with those people shortly after that and we just never talked much after that. Is my name Theresa that I should be mistaken for the nun of India? No, obviously my name is neither Teresa or Theresa so I really would not know what Mike might have heard about that from Teresa. Personally, I really didn't know those people very well and would rather forget the whole thing. I really didn't understand why Dolly was carrying on that way. She is very sick in my opinion.

Which Reminds Me

I wonder what makes the trashy lowlife Bangert family think that I would want to socialize with their vicious dog Dolly?

Which Reminds Me

I remember when my sister was maybe 5 years old the people living next door had left their dog tied up outside the house and the dog was whining and crying. My sister felt sorry for the dog and went over into their yard to pet the dog. When she bent down to console the dog it snapped and bit her ear. My mother had to take my sister to the doctor, and while the doctor was sewing her ear back together my mother fainted at the sight. The doctor, after reviving my mother, said that he should have known better than to let parents into the operating room.

Which Reminds Me

During my first semester at SCC my roommate was Dolly Bangert (Din), who occasionally muttered something about the title of Hitchens' book about Mother Theresa. But that was more than 30 years before Hitchens' book was actually published. How odd! I really would not know what she meant by that.

Which Reminds Me

Never in my life did I ever read Christopher Hitchens' book, "The Missionary Position." Have you people lost your minds? Do you actually think it is funny to joke about this book, as if there were something clever about your having read secretly, unbeknownst to me, the driveling idiocies of an atheist? I have seen this book title advertised on Amazon but I have no idea what is in that book nor any desire to find out.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, that was puzzling, all that mumbo jumbo about my position. I never had a position to resign from, nor was I ever enabled to get such a position, so I really have no idea what you are talking about. You cannot tell me to resign a job I never had and for which I never got a paycheck so just leave me be.

Which Reminds Me

We were talking about how some evangelists get overly exuberant when estimating the potential numbers of people in the audience. Just because your program has a potential of 5 billion listeners, that does not mean there were actually that many people tuned in and listening. Not quite. Of course it would be impossible to calculate the exact number and that is why numbers are often ballparked. So some exaggeration is forgivable to some degree, obviously. Just don't overkill it. But even if you weren't that off the mark there are always these obnoxious people like Mark Carpenter tapping your phones and eavesdropping on your private consultations with your public relations expert, which really was ridiculous on his part, just to feed his appetite for satire and criticism. Give me a break.

Which Reminds Me

Needless to say we have no Muslims in our family, neither do we see any need to pursue advanced studies in comparative religion at this time. We do feel a certain degree of pity for those miserable Arabian people but we are Christians so needless to say our culture is far superior to the wretched lifestyles of the Middle East. Enough said. Best policy is to never ask.

Which Reminds Me

I should mention that I cannot comment on any well at this time. Just because some murderous rabble in Texas is constantly agitating, that does not make this the right time to discuss a complicated situation of which I know almost nothing.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, that was so sad when Bevy stapled her finger in the stapler but she did it to herself. She was running around saying, "Me engrampé el dedo." Someone was asking me what that word "engrampé" meant and I told her that it meant stapled (past tense). Maybe I hadn't heard that word very often but the context made the meaning obvious. After all, I was sitting right there when she stapled her finger and saw the whole thing myself.

Which Reminds Me

My parents themselves told me they did not want me to marry one of those Spanish guys down there. I was to wait until returning to the U.S. to even think of deciding who to marry. So I did follow their wishes. Besides, there was no one there worth the effort of bucking my parents' wishes for me. Yes, I suppose that I could say something similar about college. It wasn't supposed to be that way, but the only guy who actually asked me out was Carlos—he took me to see Star Wars and we also went for a walk somewhere, maybe a local park, and talked for a while—but some things about him made me uncomfortable, and also my mother did not like the idea of me dating a Mexican. So I brushed him off later. Later Cori was trying to say that I should renew that relationship but I was not interested. I really did not like vicious Cori poking her nose into such a personal matter. It was really none of her business.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, how could I forget meeting Jim Mazurek (MK-Chile) during my first year at Evangel. He was very nice but, anyway, I always thought he liked Darla Stafford (MK-Asia), not me. Given the gusto with which he trashed me later, I must say that looking back I remember him as having much resemblance to Uriah Heep, that smarmy villain from the novel "David Copperfield." That is the only thing that comes to mind when I think of Chile but I don't remember why. Chile is a "chilly" place it would seem.

Which Reminds Me

Someone during high school was talking about Twiggy, the British model so famous in the 1960s. I don't remember who said that and, for that matter, why this trivia should be of interest to me. In a million years I could never be that thin. My sister might have come closer to that Twiggy ideal, herself being very thin, but I never thought much of that. I don't have a problem cleaning my dinner plate.

Which Reminds Me

After all this time, Thomas Nelson has yet to report the full amount paid to me for the contract work I did for them last year. I did receive my tax form but about $1,200+ is not reported there. A week before tax deadline and I suppose that I could just report to the IRS the full amount paid to me by them, along with the explanation that Thomas Nelson imagines they are paying me under the table which is why there is no 1099 form for the full amount. One would think that adding and subtracting would not be so difficult for such a large corporation. And why are they so averse to my presence on their record books? Perhaps they, like so many others, think that I only get jobs through my parents, because I have no talents or abilities of my own apart from my parents. I don't seem to be able to separate from my parents on this point which only complicates my life further.

Which Reminds Me

Nobody really cares what Larry Downs thinks about anything. After all, Larry Downs is just another clueless Baptist loser so he is naturally not going to understand certain things about Pentecostalism. Baptists have a mental block in that area so obviously it is just a waste of time to dialogue with them. Thus I really don't care that much about them, meaning Larry and Johnny. Johnny was fired long ago for obvious reasons so all this posturing from him proves only that his attitude really did justify his own firing.

Which Reminds Me

My housecleaning standards while preoccupied with grad school did not impress that creepy snarky twerp Harold Moore, as his dog Joy was saying. So what? When did I ever dcare what sniveling little creep Harold Moore thought about me anyway. I never liked him anyway. Why this pretense of friendship? I actually never had much thought of Thomas Nelson, a Vida competitor, so how did I get in their crosshairs? Just because those Lebanese riff-raff have billions stashed away in the bank, yet we know that their fortune in publishing depended on the hired help, the expert editors who pick what sells, Larry Downs and such, for they themselves are nothing but money-grubbing merchants stashing profits in the bank. Money controls some things but without hired help the Moores are nothing but white-washed tombs full of dead men's bones, to borrow a phrase.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, I remember reading a magazine article about the Kuwaiti princess who ran off with a regular white guy from the U.S. That must have been some adjustment for her having to cook and wash dishes without a staff of maids and butlers to do all of these menial chores. I cannot imagine that. There are no Kuwaiti princesses in our family tree so obviously we would not understand the snarky attitude of these Arabian snipers.

Which Reminds Me

I remember reading a magazine article a long time ago about a regular white guy from the U.S. who, being stationed in Kuwait for some reason, eloped with an Arabian princess and brought her home to the U.S. to learn how to live like white people here, which I imagine would have been quite a complicated adjustment. However, I cannot imagine who those people were. I only remember having read this article somewhere although I don't remember when or which magazine.

Which Reminds Me

Some persons want to keep for themselves a monopoly on all information and so they intimidate us from repeating things that we have heard here and there, mocking and scorning us with epithets such as "Rabbit Ears," but we are not fooled by these dirty tricks. We heard what we heard in an honest way, not having snuck around or anything like that, we just happened to be there in the classroom at the right moment just like everyone else, ourselves not having prompted them to say all of those wicked things, such wickedness pouring forth from their wicked hearts without any prompting from us, and so they cannot later pretend that they did not say that or mean that. We are not so easily deceived on this point by their falsely contrived dog-walking scenarios.

Which Reminds Me

I do remember seeing the website for Angie Thomson's Children's Relief Network Romania. She has a lengthy article there explaining that the Ceausescu regime's banning of birth control is the reason for all of these orphaned children wandering the streets of Romania. So I suppose that is one way of interpreting that. I personally would prefer not to comment. Yes, I am certain that other economic and social factors probably contributed to the phenomenon of street children but I never studied the issue myself so I would not be able to comment intelligently on the subject. As the Bible says, the poor you have with you always. Why don't you ask Angie what she was thinking? I really would not know.

Which Reminds Me

I remember discussing birth control with my mother. I remember hearing various comments on the subject. I remember reading some articles about that. However, I do not recall discussing the subject with some strange creepy man. How revolting. In a millions years I would never discuss that with you.

Which Reminds Me

Needless to say all of these words and themes do not fit in my mouth, nor did I in the past have access to this type of vast and extensive ancient library pre-Google. I never imagined myself Secretary of State accessible to the President. And this idea of myself captured in the horrid harem of some creepy sultan is the product of someone else's wicked imagination, obviously, not mine, and foisted upon me by some crude and vulgar Arabs who regard themselves much too highly. I would not permanently move to the Middle East on any account, Arab or Jewish. That is not my place. I will not be available to function as pawn in some worthless conflict. When will you idiots get a clue that I am under no obligation to obey some creepy rich man? Anyway, it is clearer now than ever that there is no law requiring myself to be envious of the pathetically snooty Thomson dogs who I never really liked anyway. There is no law requiring that I go overseas a single woman missionary solely to fulfill the stereotypical expectations of some idiotic cabal of financiers. I am sure that you can easily find some other hapless victim for your imaginative scripts. I think that just because you invented a script for me, that does not mean that everything will automatically work your way just because you said it. You were expecting a performance but things will not always work out to your advantage just because of your ethnic or national assignments. There is more to life than just ethnicity or patriotic sentiment.

Which Reminds Me

I remember hearing or else overhearing Lori Way and Dean Chenault talking about having gone dancing while off campus on some type of vacation or missions trip, sneaking away to the hotel bar or something like that. They were standing there in the dorm lobby talking about this, so proud of themselves for having violated college rules that forbid drinking, dancing, movies. Well, I can't really say much about that, myself having seen a few movies that I shouldn't have. Yet I could not help but overhear all this talk about dancing. I am just saying what I heard. Dancing was never a temptation for me.

Which Reminds Me

While I was at college in California I remember that a classmate of ours, Dean Chenault, who was from Virginia, mentioned to me that he was well acquainted with Kent Stone, who was at Evangel. I think that was because of my mentioning having been one year at Evangel and Dean was asking me if I had met him. So that means that Dean would be able to link Kent Stone to California but what they were saying about me I really would not want to know. I always was very paranoid about things going on behind my back. My mother says that I am too imaginative, that I let my imagination run wild imagining that people are conspiring against me, but then again sometimes I think I know what I am talking about.

Which Reminds Me

My parents voted for Nixon even though he burglarized Democratic Party headquarters and made his own name infamous. Does this mean that I, too, am guilty of burglarizing Watergate? What were my parents thinking? I cannot be expected to control these people, especially when their secret tapes are not accessible for public scrutiny. What can I do? I am just one clueless person processing these clues at the tail end of a monster. The Bible tells me to be the head and not the tail and yet everyone is working against me on this point.

Which Reminds Me

Yes, sometimes I hear those dreary Hunt dogs barking in the background but I fail to understand what their problem is. They never tell us anything so obviously I have no way of finding out, nor do I care to learn more about Venezuela. I have enough complications on my own plate without borrowing all of the Hunt problems also. I have no idea.

Which Reminds Me

The Thompsons were AG missionaries in Venezuela at about the same time that the Hunt family was there in Venezuela as missionaries with the Christian Missionary Alliance. Whether those two families were acquainted there in Venezuela no one has yet mentioned. The Hunts are my Dad's Aunt Mary Olive, who married Eugene Hunt, and their three daughters. The Hunts have turned their backs on our family's originally Pentecostal heritage, which complicates the picture considerably. Why is so much fuss made over those dreary turncoats is hard for us to understand because they never tell us anything and they never listen to anything we say. They are apparently just a machine of no interest to us.

Which Reminds Me

All of this chatter about Romania reminds me that our former acquaintance Angie Thomson (MK-Venezuela), who went to Romania and built an orphanage there, the Village of Hope, providing a safe haven for street children there. What a nice and virtuous and selflessly generous thing to do! I have not seen or spoken to Angie in so many years. I tend to think that the Thomsons now live in a different planetary system and rarely condescend to visit planet earth, which is where I have to live for the time being, so I really had absolutely no knowledge of Romania. All I know about the Romanian thing is whatever I found on Youtube recently.