No Excuses

We had a pretty good time yesterday, although we left sixteen minutes late. One of the students got off the bus to use the restroom and I didn't know and I instructed the driver to go and so she got left. That says to me that you have to be in place. So many people want to operate outside the covering. If you had to use the restroom, there were some options. One option would be to make use of the facilities on the charter bus. Otherwise it is critical that you inform someone where you are going so that someone would know and could be accountable and awaiting your safe and speedy return.

Not all of the students chose to ride the bus. Some of them drove down on their own and paid the full price admission fee for the park. Again, that's what happens when you operate outside the covering. There's safety in the ark. If you had done what you were asked to do, then you could have saved about thirty dollars. It's not a big deal to me though. If they like it, I love it. I am one who likes to save a dollar whenever possible.

What is disheartening is that so many of these kids have a poverty mentality. They live in substandard housing with under- or uneducated guardians whose idea of a good time is facing a couple of blunts, frying some fish and washing it down with some alcohol.

Don't you just love it when people want to put their mouths on you instead of stepping to you and asking you what you feel about something. If you have a question about something, feel free to ask. I have no problem explaining to someone how I feel about something. That's not to say that I will address all inquiries. Some things are better left unsaid. But, for the most part, I will gladly field any inquiries.

Z didn't get too much darker yesterday at the park. I used SPF 70 with helioplex. I don't even know what helioplex is, (doesn't helio- mean sun?), but I just like to say "...with helioplex." It sounds like it makes all the difference. For those of you who want to get deep, no I do not have a color complex. I simply mean that I did not allow the radiation from the sun to excite the melanin present in my dermis thereby allowing less light to pass through. That is, if you put your color on a prism, the darker it is the less light that will pass through. Now that I've written that a racist could use that and make some really compelling metaphors.

Yeah, so if you've gotten this far you've realized that this is pretty random. No form nor comeliness. I don't know why I've been making so many biblical references lately. Maybe I'm just in one of those phases. That reminds me about this sermon I heard a few weeks ago. Wanna hear about it? Good, cause I was gonna tell ya anyway.

Let me give a little background. This was women's day so the women were ushering, singing in the choir, you know...pretty much doing everything that day. The woman who spoke grew up in this church, but has since moved away and started a life elsewhere complete with a husband and kids and a dog...blah blah blah. She's a minister and an educator and feeds the homeless and rescues stray cats from trees in her spare time.

The sermon title was, "No Excuses." First of all, to me that's more of a secular slogan that an religious theme/idea, but I was willing to listen and see where she was going with this. I'm pretty sure "No Excuses" was a part of an advertising campaign. She used two illustrations from the Bible. The first story was about a woman whose daughter was possessed with a demon and needed to be delivered. The speaker, let's call her Ms. Empty-Air, described how the woman demonstrated her faith when she asked Jesus to heal her child. It didn't appear that Jesus was in the healing mood, if you will, but because of her faith, he did it. Right here is a good time to say Amend. Emphasis on the 'd'. You know everything sounds more holy when you indiscriminately add and subtract letters as (in)appropriate. So basically woman asks for a healing and she receives it. The next story was about Lot's wife. Most people are familiar with this story. This is when Lot and his family were fleeing Sodom and Gomorrah (I wonder which on they actually lived in--or maybe S&G is like Winston-Salem or Raleigh-Durham) and the wife turned back and became a pillar of salt. She and everyone who was in their company fleeing the city had been warned not to look back. Someone should have told her that obedience is better than sacrifice. If I'm preaching you can stand up. Anyway, so she turned into the pillar of salt and everybody else kept going.

If you've forgotten, scroll back up and look at the sermon title in red. Okay, so just like me you're probably wondering what in the world this has to do with anything. What was so egregious is that she just kept peppering the discourse with no excuses like it was so sort of mantra or a theme for which she had laid a solid foundation. As I sat in my pew, I just couldn't make the connection with the illustrations that she chose. All the while she's still walking around hollering No Excuses. Finally she asked the pastor if she could come down on the floor to continue to speak. The pastor obliged. My interested was sparked at this time because I thought she was gonna really make the connection for me and tie up any loose ends in her sermon. so far, I had not gained a single thing. Once she got on the floor she just was talking about women having no excuses. I guess she meant like no excuses about being good wives, good mothers, good Christians, good in the community, faithful in service, etc. If these were her thoughts, she definitely didn't tie it together.

Other people were standing up and encouraging her as she spoke. I was looking around wondering to myself if they were listening to the same oration that I was. She was screaming about no excuses but hadn't said a thing since we had began. Talking loud, but saying nothing. To that I say no excuses. It's almost as if she didn't know she was speaking that morning and didn't have time to prepare. She knew at least a month in advance because I remember hearing it during the church announcements. I get really sensitive about church. I hate it when people speak and don't share anything new with me. Especially with the price of gas! I felt like going up to her and asking for her badge and her keys. I wanted her to turn over her certificate/license to preach because there was no excuse for what she allowed to masquerade as a sermon. I have an explanation for why people were standing up egging her on. Option one: I think that most of the people who were standing were just doing so because she grew up in that church and her mother still attends the church. Maybe they were supporting her and not necessarily supporting what she was saying. Option two: They are absolutely delusional.

Now though I use that phrase as a running joke with some of my friends and associates with whom I've shared this story. At any time one of us might just holler out "no excuses" just for no reason. Pretty much analogous to how she used it. It might have been a little better for her to talk about no excuse for people going to hell because of Jesus' sacrifice. Maybe I'll prepare something and e-mail it to her using that same sermon title. The only difference is what I send her will be coherent (despite the fact that this post isn't) and will be understandable.

Leave it to Hallmark

A part of my rearing was done in a town that had a population of about 872 called Screven, Georgia. It wasn't until 1989 that the family moved to Savannah, so I spent about six years in Screven. The town recently like in the last five years got an additional stoplight. It already had one stoplight and a caution light. There were railroad tracks that separated the Black side of town from the other side. Needless to say, there was little mixing--as a matter of fact I can only recall seeing white people at school and at the local grocery store. I don't ever remember seeing a single white person in my neighborhood.

Anywho, there was a revered former teacher who had been diagnosed with cancer. At age six I didn't know what cancer was, but I knew it would eventually lead to her death. I never had this woman as a teacher, but when the news about her illness spread through town, and I listened to people recount tales of how she chastised them when they were wrong and how she inspired them to greatness I wished that I had had an opportunity for my life to have been touched by her. Since I fate would not allow her to inspire me, I thought I'd do something to inspire her.

I decided to send her a personalized greeting card. I drew her a nice picture on the front and on the inside scribed the words, "Get well soon slut." I drew another picture on the back of the card and headed down the street to deliver my well wishes. When I reached her house I proudly knocked on the door and gave the card to her son. He was about sixteen or so I guess. He said thank you and glanced at the message on the inside. His countenance fell. I was perplexed, even though I didn't know the word perplexed at the time. He told me he'd make sure everyone saw the card. Of course my intention was that his mother got the card, but in my youthful ignorance I swelled with pride when he said that he'd show it to everyone. I asked him if it was okay for me to get a pear from the tree and he said yes. I scaled the tree and bopped back home.

I can remember using the bathroom and my aunt burst in and said that I was in trouble. I didn't know why, but somehow I figured that it related to that card that I delivered. She said a bunch of stuff that I don't remember or would never repeat and said she'd tell my parents when they got home. I was nonchalant because I didn't know what I had done wrong. All I knew was a lady was sick and I tried to cheer her up by giving her a card. When my parents got home I got yelled at and got my azz tore up! Nobody ever bothered to explain to me that the message in the card was offensive.

The reason I used the word slut is because my sister and aunt were in the next room while I was designing the card and I kept hearing them call this girl named Katrina a slut. They used the word so frequently that I thought it must mean something good. I was able to sound it out and spell it using phonetics. I think my sister and aunt are the ones who should have actually been punished. I was impressionable.

Years later I spoke to my parents about the severe beating that I received as a result of that incident and explained to them one of the numerous parenting mistakes they made. The realism is that it is not effective to punish someone without explaining why they are being punished. When I told them this they said they were disciplining me. I told them that punishment and discipline are not the same thing. Discipline seeks to replace negative behaviors and may involve consequences. Punishment only involves consequences.

In the future I think I'll leave the greeting cards to the professionals.