My Life As A Hobby

  I would like to apologize in advance to everyone reading this article.  Because once you do, there are going to be some songs that will be stuck in your head for several days. Don’t say you weren’t warned.  That’s the price you pay for dealing with nostalgic music - and this column is loaded with it.    Today I had an epiphany I want you share with ya’ll. Everyone that knows me knows I believe the music of the 60s and 70s is the best of all time.  Now I’m prepared to add 60’s and 70’s TV theme songs to that list. I know there are still good themes on the tube now, but I prefer the old ones - the kind you can sing; the kind whose lyrics give you an idea of what the show is about. Examples are almost endless:  Gilligan’s Island, Cheers, Happy Days, Welcome Back Kotter, Friends, The Jeffersons, The Dukes of Hazzard, That 70’s Show, or the Brady Bunch. Even cartoons had them for goodness sake. The Flintstones, The Jetsons, Yogi Bear, and Spider Man come to mind.  Come on - sing with me:

For the longest time I’ve thought that there should be a special place in Hell for people who drop off dogs, especially pregnant ones, out on a country road for someone else to take care of. Now, I believe I’m going to  add another group to that list. It’s people who rip off blessing boxes.  Blessing boxes are a common form of ministry for churches all over the country. The concept is simple: share God‘s love by providing emergency hunger relief with non-perishable food. This helps people bridge the food gap in our community.  Picking up a few things can really help needy families in between paychecks.  The food in our church’s blessing box is stored outdoors in a waterproof cabinet with a sign that says, “take what you need, but be considerate of others.”  Sadly, I have discovered there are folks in our community that obviously can’t read. Because we have people who drive up and clean out the box, leaving very little for anyone else. Last week, I filled up the shelves, left to go to l

I’m sitting in my favorite chair, TV remote in hand, shaking my head in disbelief. There’s nothing good to watch on television.  Unless, of course, you’re into UFOs, the location of the Ark of the Covenant, Hitler’s super weapon, or how to survive in the woods without any clothes. This is why even though I get over a hundred channels, I’ll usually end up looking at Gunsmoke or Tales Of Wells Fargo.  Times have changed. I remember when I was a kid  there were only two VHF channels - three if you counted public TV (which I watched if the Soupy Sales Show was on). Sadly, back then, you only had one chance to catch your favorite show. For example, if I missed Lassie, it would be months before the rerun of that episode appeared again - if it even aired at all. This was the reason I pitched a fit whenever the president gave a speech. It was on both networks, so my entire night was ruined.  I don’t think children in this day and age could handle that kind of pressure.  In the early days of

  Hey everybody!  I just wanted to let ya’ll know that I wrote this blog specifically for my grandchildren. Ya’ll feel free to read along too. My guess is a many of you have a story that’s a lot like this one.   Dear Kids,  I think you know by now that these stories I write are so you will have a better idea of who your granddaddy was after I no longer walk on this earth.  My hope is that one day (hopefully, far in the future) you’ll read them, laugh, and recall me fondly.  And I’ll bet the story that I’ve written here is one  you’ve never heard before.  But it’s quite important to all of you because if it didn’t happen you wouldn’t be here. So think about that as you read on: You may have noticed that on some summer nights, a lot of old people will show up in a parking lot driving old cars that look brand new ones.  They’ll park, pop their hoods, set out lawn chairs, turn on oldie goldie music, and socialize.  It’s called a cruise-in.  Of course any senior citizen will tell