I just had a flashback, sparked by seeing Major in his Harding Bison basketball ball uniform. He and Mary Alice have been with us for a couple of days, and will be going home on Saturday. I had been back in my office for a few minutes, and when I went into the kitchen to get another bowl of gluten free rice chex, I saw that Major had gone from his pj’s, a pair of super hero underwear, to his B-Ball uniform. I ask him why he had put on a pair of pajamas now that it was morning, and he informed me that he was wearing his cloths. He said, “This says Harding, and I am number one!”

Major loves to play basketball, and does so a few hours everyday. If the weather is nice he will be on the nice long driveway at his house, dribbling and shooting. If the weather is bad you will find him in his bedroom playing with a smaller ball practicing his shooting at a plastic hoop and backboard. He also loves other sports as well. He is all about the Texas Rangers, the Dallas Cowboys, and of course the Mavericks. He and I have watched several innings of baseball together. I remember the first time we watched a game together, Major was still in diapers, and still talking in chopped up sentences. He saw that I was watching a Rangers game on TV and said, “Hey Grumpy, sit by me, we watch baseball.”

The memory that was sparked this morning was how Major had said the words, “…and I’m number one,” as he proudly pointed to the number on his chest. I don’t remember how old Josh was when he and I were driving through Austin Texas. I do know it was during his stage in life when he was all about the Texas Longhorns. (Sure glad he out grew that stage.) As we were driving on I-35 I pointed out the baseball diamond where UT plays, and he said, “Wow, that’s where I’m going to play my college baseball.” Then I pointed out the drum, where UT plays basketball and he said, “Great, that’s where I’m going to play college basketball.” You can probably guess what came next.  Sure enough, I showed him the football stadium, and proclaimed his excitement at seeing the field where he would play his college football.” He had dreams and aspirations of being a great athlete, and now Major is pointing to the number one on his jersey. Major also dreams of great accomplishment on the field of play. He talks most often of playing for the Texas Rangers when he grows up. He even plays imaginary games of baseball, and when he does, he is Josh Hamilton.

That takes me to the other generation involved in this story. I can’t say I ever dreamed of playing college sports. I did play sports in school, but I must be honest, it was only because I attended a school where anybody was a body, and sometimes we didn’t have enough body’s to fill all of the necessary positions. It is much easier to make the team when a coaches main concern is having the proper number of players in the game. I’ve told you before about my not playing football until my junior year because of my size. So once I did start playing my position was defensive safety…of the bench. I must have been very good at playing bench defense because the coach put me there and never looked back until less than thirty seconds remained on the clock of an already determined game. Once he was sure the bench could be protected by someone with less ability he would send me into the game just in time to nail down the last play, and proclaim the game was over. Mom and dad went to all my games, but I don’t think mom knew much about the game of eight-man football. All she knew is that once I got on the field she could start gathering her things, and head to the car.

So friends, here’s the story of a want to be boy, an, I have done young man, and an, I never was guy. I see in my grandson Major the desire to play sports. He loves watching sports. He can eat a whole meal without looking at his plate if there is a game on TV. (Hint: This is a great way to get your kid to eat their vegetables. Start with a plate loaded with the junk they want to eat, and once they tune into the game slip in a plate of “healthy” weed looking stuff. They will just keep on shoveling the substance in and never be the wiser.) I am looking forward to watching him play, he shows the signs of being a decent ball player; and I know I will have fun watching him play.

Josh, did play high school sports, and was pretty good at it. He was a starter in the three major high school sports of football, basketball, and baseball his junior and senior years. He was a varsity player on the basketball and baseball teams his sophomore year. Man, as Archie and Edith used to sing, “those were the days.” I don’t live in the past, I’m a dreamer. I think about what might happen, and things my children and grandchildren will be and become. But, if someone told me I could re-live a part of my life, I’m sure my choice would be to go back and re-experience Josh, and Miranda’s high school accomplishments.

As for me, I played because of the situation I was in. I even continued to play basketball and softball while in my twenties. I enjoy playing sports, and have heard friends say, “Smith’s pretty good at anything he does,” I like that. I read an article in Golf Magazine a while back that made me feel good. It said the average score for men who play golf in the United States is 92 to 93, no matter the age group. Guess what? I’m an average golfer, most of the time, and even an above average golfer if I play regularly. I can still bowl a decent game too, but only if don’t count the first game. You see, it takes the first ten frames just to get me warmed up and loose. Then the second game is usually my best score, and I will roll anywhere from 145 to 180. By the third game I’m beginning to wear out, and the score starts to reflect it.

In some future post I’ll tell you a couple of stories that illustrate nicely my prowess as a high school athlete. Just so you’ll know what to expect, there won’t be any Sports Center music involved in these stories. I hope you all have a great weekend.

Till next time,

Grump   

It’s gonna be a great day! Right after I hit the publish button for this post I’m head’n out the door with Major, my five year old grandson. We’re going to meet two of my golfing friends at Plantation to play a round of golf. Jim and Carter don’t mind having Major join us, and Major really enjoys the game. He’s no Tiger, but he has a lot of fun, and he knows how to behave himself on the course.

Jim, Carter and I will tee off and if no one is behind us Major will tee it up too. Once he’s hit we’ll take off to play our next shot and I’ll just tell Major we’ll see him on the green. He hits and runs, and hits and runs, until he gets to the green, and then he will putt out right along with us. I love it. Jim and Carter enjoy watching him too, and they comment on his discipline, and manners. He has been taught to say yes sir and no sir. He knows how to carry on a conversation with adults, and how to show the proper respect to them.

Yup, it’s gonna be a great day. You know I don’t want to rush time, but I’m looking forward to the day when Major, Ranger, and I can go spend the day playing golf together for real. Shoot, I might even let the boy’s dads come along. Hey, come to think of it that’d be even better, cause that way I wouldn’t have to pay. I’d make the dad’s tote the load just for having the privilege of being with the boys and me.

Till next time,

Grump

If you watch those cooking shows on the food channel, (I do) you have heard the announcer say, “two Minutes,” indicating that the time allotted for the competition has about run out. Once those words are said, the already hectic chef’s spend even more time looking at the clock fretting over how to wrap up the task at hand, and plate a truly amazing creation of food that maybe five percent of the people in America will ever get the opportunity to enjoy. It is exciting stuff and everyone feels better after the two minutes are spent, because they can breath again. The contestants always throw up their hands and exhale as the buzzer sounds indicating that time is up.

I was part of a timed event once. It wasn’t exciting. We didn’t exhale in unison when the clock ran out. We didn’t stand and cheer while giving chest bumps and high fives. No we just kinda stood up looking at one another waiting for someone to break the awkward silence. We didn’t even know that our event was being timed until the lady opened the door, and made the announcement that stunned a group of grown, independent, in charge alpha males. We were men at the top of our profession, serving as board members of a statewide trade association. We had all been elected by our peers, and had come together to conduct the business and make the decisions that would impact our industry at he state level for sure, and maybe even at the national level. 

One of the first comments made when the meeting came to an end was by a man named Jerry. He was a funny kind of guy who always had us laughing, but this time I’m still not sure he was joking when he made his comment. As we all stood in silence and began to make our way to the door he said, “If my wife had said that she wouldn’t have seen me for three days…and then I’d a been a little blurry as her eyes began to open. Now we all knew Jerry, and we knew he wasn’t serious, but his comment did serve to lighten the atmosphere a little.

The reaction outside the meeting was almost the same as it had been inside the meeting. The announcement had been made with inflated lungs, and straining vocal cords, which allowed the ladies in the hallway to hear it too. The ladies sat stunned, and the children were told to calm down. You’d have thought someone had died, and in a sense at least a part of someone had died. Once we were in the car Paula told me that she had told the ladies, “If I’d done that Kent would have reached in his pocket for his keys, pitched them to me, and told me to hit the road, he would be home when he was ready.” 

I understand the stress that the lady was under. We had all checked out of our hotel rooms. We were all heading home as soon as this last session was over, and I will admit that the meeting had lasted longer than anyone expected.  I know she had her kids hanging on her shorts acting like undisciplined gerbils. I know every woman out there was just as ready to leave as she was, but…

The unexpected proclamation she had burst into the meeting to make was…”You’ve got three minutes to get this meeting over with, and get in the car, or I’m coming into this meeting, and you’re going to sit out here in the lobby with these screaming kids!”

I don’t think I have ever witnessed a more embarrassing moment in my life. I mean she put twenty men, and their wives in a situation that was very uncomfortable. And she had personally attacked her husband in front of his peers. She totally emasculated him, she defeated him, no, she cut his heart out for all intense and purposes.

What do you do? What do you say? Jerry had loosened things up a bit with joke about closing Gail’s eyes for three days, and after that people began to breath again. As far as the victim of this attack is concerned, it took him a couple of years to become active in the association again.

James 3 has a number of things to say about the tongue, and none of them are good. It says the tongue …”is a small part of the body, but it makes great boasts”vs5. It is a fire, a world of evil among the parts of the body. It corrupts the whole person, sets the whole course of his life on fire,…”vs6. “…no man can tame the tongue. It is a restless evil, full of deadly poison.”vs8 “With the tongue we praise our Lord and Father, and with it we curse men, who have been made in God’s likeness.”vs9

As I look back on that event I realize that the most damage I have ever done to anyone was caused by my tongue. I need the Lord to take control of my tongue. 

My heart, my mind, my body, my soul

I give to You, take control.

I give my body a living sacrifice,

Lord, take control, take control. (Author unknown)

Till next time,

Grump

What’s in a name? How important is it to have a memorable, or important name? Well, I am beginning to come to an understanding of the importance of this whole name thing. I told you in my very first post how I came to be called Grumpy. I chose that name for myself when the kids asked me what I wanted the new grandbaby to call me. A while after that Paula went to Tyler to the trade day they have down there, and she came home with a cap for me. It is an attractive green color with bold white lettering that says GRUMPY.  When she gave it to me she said, “here, you may not wear this, but I thought you might like to have it.”

I liked the cap, and I did wear it. Later I started to work for the Frisco Roughriders and I took one of the nice ball caps they sell and had grumpy embroidered on the side in small letters. Even there it was noticed and mentioned pretty often. Next came a tan bucket hat that I ware when I play golf. It has the bold black letters spelling out the name that was beginning to gain me more and more attention. After a year with the Roughriders, I moved over to the food side of the operation and started working in the catering department. That is how I came to be the grill guy on the pool party deck at the Dr. Pepper Ballpark.

The Leslie’s Pool Party Zone, as they call it now, is located in right center field of the ballpark. It faces the late afternoon sun which in July, and August, raises the North Texas temperature to over one hundred degrees for days on end, and the deck has no shade. So, I went from the ball cap to the bucket hat with the bold black letters spelling out GRUMPY. That happened just about the same time the book was taking shape and I got to noticing how people had taken to making comments about my hat. They were always fun comments, and the hat served as an icebreaker for me, and that became one of the reason’s I decided to use the name as my pen name on the book.

One more step in the process took place about a year ago. About this time last year the book was finished. I had it in my possession, and could sell it three months before it was officially released, and available on line and in bookstores. It was also about this time last year that I went to work for Chick-fil-A for a few hours each day. When I took the job I told Jay that I wanted my nametag to read Grumpy. And finally, I have now taken this one step further and I have included my web address on the back of my now, two bucket hats, and on the right sleeve of the nice button down shirts I ware while working at the Chick. Oh yes, there is one other prominent place I display my name and that is on the back window of my car. Now everywhere I go I am advertising my name. I am creating my identity, and it is being noticed. 

I could give you several examples of people who don’t know me, but have contacted me because they saw the name. So, the name has become for me, a hook, and an attention getter. It has become my identity. OK, so this is where I’m supposed to go all preachy on you and talk to you about wearing THE name, and ask you if you are proud to wear HIS name, but, I’m not gonna do that. It might be good if I did, but I think I’ll just leave it up to you.

Till next time,

Grump  

“And the sign said long haired freaky people need not apply.” (Five Man Electrical Band) The words you just read is the first line of a song written and preformed back in 1970. They are the kind of words that stick in my mind and then pop up every once in a while from out of nowhere. As with many songs from that era, these words demonstrate the turmoil of the time. There was a lot of strife and unrest in America. There was the Viet Nam war. Hippies. The civil rights movement was in full swing. Drugs were playing a more visible roll in our society than ever before. Just about all authority was despised and the “establishment” was the ultimate bad guy. Policemen were “pigs.” The sexual revolution was ramping up. Bras were being burned as a sign of women’s freedom. (As I wrote that sentence another, more recent, song just popped into my head, “A heart don’t forget something like that.” (Tim McGraw))   Etc.etc.etc.

I don’t remember everything that was going on, as I came along toward the end of most of it, having entered high school in 1970. The thing is the words of songs played a huge part in describing the feelings of those involved in the times. Nothing has changed in that regard. Songs, movies, books, and television will always address the issues of the day.

Getting back to the words I began with its amazing to realize that no matter how things have changed, they seem to have stayed the same. I mean look at what those words say. They say that, as a person I have a view of how things are, or should be. They say I have a preconceived idea or prejudice about people, or things, based on their appearance. This discussion fits quiet well in the “it ain’t right but it’s so” category.

I was reminded all over again this morning that things are not always right, but they are still so. The home page for sbc global on Yahoo has a story this morning with this lead-in. “Why taller people earn more money” Here are a few of the things written in the article.

“Taller people are perceived to be more intelligent and powerful,”

 “They’re not nicer. They’re not prettier. They’re not anything else. But they’ve sort of gotten a halo in society at this point.”

Being tall may boost self-confidence, helping to make a person more successful and also prompting people to ascribe more status and respect to the tall person, Judge said.

Here is the link to the story if you want to read it for yourself. http://news.yahoo.com/s/livescience/20090711/sc_livescience/tallerpeopleearnmoremoney

I remember another song from the seventies titled, Short People, it was written by Randy Newman, and it was written to show the absurdity of making prejudice judgments.

Short people got no reason
Short people got no reason
Short people got no reason
To live

They got little hands
Little eyes
They walk around
Tellin’ great big lies
They got little noses
And tiny little teeth
They wear platform shoes
On their nasty little feet

Well, I don’t want no short people
Don’t want no short people
Don’t want no short people
`Round here

Short people are just the same
As you and I
(A fool such as I)
All men are brothers
Until the day they die
(It’s a wonderful world)

Short people got nobody
Short people got nobody
Short people got nobody
To love

They got little baby legs
That stand so low
You got to pick em up
Just to say hello
They got little cars
That go beep, beep, beep
They got little voices
Goin’ peep, peep, peep
They got grubby little fingers
And dirty little minds
They’re gonna get you every time
Well, I don’t want no short people
Don’t want no short people
Don’t want no short people
‘Round here

Here’s the point folks, everyone fits into somebody’s prejudice category. From a short persons prejudice, I can put all tall people into the snob category. It’s just that simple, everyone fits into a category based on the perception they hold and deem as true. Below are a few categories, test yourself and be honest with your feelings.

White people are…

Skinny people are…

Short people are…

Polish people are…

Blond women are…

Democrats are…

Athletes are…

Geeks are…

Girls with big boobs are…

Rich people are…

You get my point, and the list is endless. Now the thing is friends I find myself having to “break-thought” everyday as I witness a situation, or see an individual who I immediately try to, or want to, prejudge. This blog turned out a little heavier than I intended. It would be nice to start the week with some lite-hearted fare, but what can I say, my button got pushed. Let’s wrap things up with two passages describing two leaders, and then see who turned out the best.

I Samuel 9:2 He had a son named Saul, an impressive young man without equal among the Israelites—a head taller than any of the others.

  Isaiah 53: ² He grew up before him like a tender shoot,
       and like a root out of dry ground.
       He had no beauty or majesty to attract us to him,
       nothing in his appearance that we should desire him.

 ³ He was despised and rejected by men,
       a man of sorrows, and familiar with suffering.
       Like one from whom men hide their faces
       he was despised, and we esteemed him not.

The first passage talks about Israel’s first King, the one God did not want to give his people. That guy started out hiding so they wouldn’t make him King, but he ended up failing because he loved himself more than God. The second passage is about the Kingdom’s only King, Jesus. Consider His impact.

Philippians 2

¹If you have any encouragement from being united with Christ, if any comfort from his love, if any fellowship with the Spirit, if any tenderness and compassion, ²then make my joy complete by being like-minded, having the same love, being one in spirit and purpose. ³Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit, but in humility consider others better than yourselves. ⁴Each of you should look not only to your own interests, but also to the interests of others.

 ⁵Your attitude should be the same as that of Christ Jesus:
 ⁶Who, being in very nature^[a] God,
      did not consider equality with God something to be grasped,
 ⁷but made himself nothing,
      taking the very nature^[b] of a servant,
      being made in human likeness.
 ⁸And being found in appearance as a man,
      he humbled himself
      and became obedient to death—
         even death on a cross!
 ⁹Therefore God exalted him to the highest place
      and gave him the name that is above every name,
 ¹⁰that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow,
      in heaven and on earth and under the earth,
 ¹¹and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord,
      to the glory of God the Father.

Till next time,

Grump

Let’s close out the week with a few bits and pieces of the happenings around here the last few days. You may know that Paula and I went on a mini-vacation this week. I’ll tell you it was great. And, since yesterday’s post was about “best kept secrets” I want to let the cat out of the bag as to where we went, because you married couples out there might want to check this place out. We went to Wimberley, Texas, which is about fifteen miles N/W of San Marcus, Texas. You can find information about our lodging at www.exoticsunset.com. If you just need a place to get away from life for a couple of days this may be it. It is quiet, and private. You can watch the deer graze in the early morning, and you can gaze at the stars at night. I recommend this place highly.

On our way to Wimberley last weekend we stopped by Josh and Amber’s to spend Saturday night, and then go to church Sunday morning in Burleson. It was great to spend time with them, but even better to see Mary Alice, Major, and Milla. On our way to see them we had taken a side road and ended up at Chad and Miranda’s house where we spent a few hours playing with Ranger.  It is so amazing to see the changes the little ones make in a week or so between visits. It is easy to see the progress of growing in the two babies when you only see them every week or so.

The last bit I want to tell you about is more important than the things mentioned above. I was talking on the phone with my little sister Deon Hunt yesterday, when suddenly she said, “Craig and dad just walked in and I need to see what they need.” As it turned out they needed to get dad to the hospital. My dad had a stroke a few years back, and thankfully did not suffer any major complications because of it. He does have a couple of “hot” spots he talks about every now and then, but as far as motion, memory loss, or communication he shows no impairment.  It turns out that yesterday dad had a mini-stroke, or aftershock if you will. The Dr. checked him out and ran a number of test and once again there seems to be no lasting effect from what happened yesterday.

Please pray for my dad, Homer Smith. Dad will turn 79 on the 23^rd of this month. He is active and happy, and we need him to stay that way. On July 24^th he and all of his, will be getting together for a reunion at my sister Evon Grubbs’, house in Abilene. We have been and continue to be very blessed as a family. For the most part, we are all healthy. We are all active members of the body of Christ, and even though there have been struggles along the way God has blessed all of us in many ways.

Till next time,

Grump       

To me, this has got to be one of the most absurd advertising slogans ever dreamed up. Why would anyone want to make this claim? If I were forced to use the slogan I would insist, even at the cost of my eye teeth, that another phrase be added to it; “BUT I DON’T WANT TO BE!” The slogan? “Best Kept Secret”, as in, Golf’s “Best Kept Secret”, or Dallas’ “Best Kept Secret.” If I were advertising why would I want to tell anyone and everyone that my place of business is a secret? That is unless my place of business is a rendezvous restaurant for folks cheating on their spouses, but even then my prospects need to know about my business.

Now I can easily see why a client might want to keep his favorite place a secret, the rendezvous restaurant being a great example of that. I mean it would be really horrible to be sitting there with my hand on the knee of a girl who shouldn’t be, only to look over and see my betrothed playing touching feely with some mister America type guy like Brad Pit, or Tony Romo.  (Let’s face it here friends this is my story and the way I see it, it would take the world’s sexist, most wonderful specimen of a man to turn any woman’s eye from me. I mean that in the most humble way of course, because I believe no matter how great a person is there is always someone one step above, so I am more than willing to admit that I am not THE sexist, most wonderful specimen of a man in the world, but I could certainly be no less than number two.)

In reality I can tell you that I personally have a desire for one thing to be a “best kept secret” and that would be whatever golf course I happen to be playing at the time.  I love it when my group is playing golf and it appears that we are the only group on the course. We have been able to do that on occasion. That’s one of the reasons we like to tee it up early. We want to be the first group off the box, and we prefer not having anyone behind us as we enjoy our round of “swat it on the go golf.”

Honestly folks, when you think about it, we want, and need our business to be known. We depend on advertising, and customer referral to build our businesses no matter what they might be. What we do want kept secret are the things that…well…the things we want kept secret. It’s the things we aren’t that proud of or the things we know we should not be involved in that we want to be kept quiet. As a teenager I can promise you that I did things I didn’t want mom and dad to know about. I went to a few dances over in Seagraves that I couldn’t even enjoy while on the floor for fear mom might find out I had gone to a dance. That old thing about dancing leading to “something else” didn’t work on me because I was so busy worrying about my being there, being found out, that my dance partner could have been necked and I might not have noticed. …Well, maybe not, but you get my point.

So, here is my question, and it will lead us in two directions. Is there anything in my life that I want to be a “best kept secret?” Am I wanting, or trying to keep a thing or two I do a secret, and if I am, should I be? As for the other direction I mentioned, am I purposefully keeping my walk with God a “best kept secret?” Am I comfortable feeling that no one in my “outside life” thinks of me as a Christian?  

You know friends; I’m just an ordinary man. I have my faults, and weaknesses. I have my struggles, and I need to “break-thought” more than I do. Sometimes I find myself standing with others around a fire, trying to stay close enough to the activities to know what’s going on without actually being part of them. Trying to keep a secret of Who’s I am, and Who I walk with, even as someone in the crowd asks, “Aren’t you one of them, didn’t I see you with Him?” At that instant, my big brother Peter wanted his past three years to be a “best kept secret,” but it didn’t stay that way with him, and shouldn’t stay that way with me either.

Dear God, today, give me the strength and courage to “let my life shine before men so they can see what I do and praise You because of it.” ( Kent Smith paraphrase of Matt. 5:16)

Till next time,

Grump                

Welcome to Friday everyone! There’s an old superstition that says you should not start anything on Friday that can’t be finished. Well, I hope I can’t finish what I am going to start today. Then again maybe I technically started it last week when John Clemens first asked me about my writing a book. Wow, I’m glad I thought about that, now I can go about my business knowing that this adventure started on a day that was not Friday.

This after noon around three o’clock I will be meeting John at the radio studio down in Dallas. We plan to do an interview about the book and me. His show will allow for thirty or sixty second snippets of our talk. Over one hundred Christian radio stations around the country use John’s program. If all goes well I will also get to meet Kerby Anderson while I am there, and I hope my visit with him will turn into my being part of his program Point of View which is broadcast daily from 1:00-3:00 pm at 91.7 in the Dallas/Ft Worth area.

The exposure from these two programs will be a great help to me as I continue to get the word out about Everyday Christianity, and my speaking ministry. In addition to these two opportunities I hope to have a book review written by Diana Kay at www.authorsbeat.com. She is currently reading Everyday Christianity, so I have my fingers crossed that she will embrace the message, and help me tell the story.

I want to thank you for reading my blog, and ask that you read Everyday Christianity if you have not already done so. Then if the book touches you please tell your friends and family about it and the blog.

On a totally unrelated note, Paula and I will be leaving Sunday after our 8:00 am worship service. We will be making a short trip to Central Texas for our first get-away in several years. This my be tough on all two of my everyday followers, but if they can hold out until next Thursday, July 9 I plan to post another blog then.

May God bless you all and give you a safe and happy Forth of July holiday.

Till next time,

Grump

OK, I want to warn you up front, this may seem a little unpleasant to some of you, because as a general rule most folks don’t like to talk about kick’n the bucket. Especially when it’s their own foot that’s doing the kick’n. But that’s what I want to do here today. Now, I’m not going into anything deep, I just want to go on record with some of the songs I want to be sung at my “He ain’t here no more celebration.”

It may be a little selfish to tell the folks responsible for seeing me off what I want to have sang  (Is that right, or should it be sung? Let’s see, sing, sang, sung, oh well you pick the right word, but don’t use singed cause I know that’s not right.) at my funeral, because they are the ones needing comforting, but then again who really knows, God may let me kinda hang around to see how you folks act at my party.

If I can get it together, and can work it out, you guys aren’t even going to have to worry about doing all the singing anyway. I hope to get the boys from West Texas together one of these times I’m there so we can record these songs. That way I can sing at my own celebration. I don’t have any idea how many folks Skip, Chip, Bruce and I have sung into the ground but I may as well become one of them.  (By the way my computer just told me to use sung, so I guess I got it right.) 

So, here they are in no particular order.

1. I Fly Away:  You guys know how much I enjoy flying, and I will be doing it without a plane when this song is playing. That is going to be awesome!

1. It Is Well With My Soul:  I like this whole song, but that last verse gives me the chills. I like to slow things down, even though the word say, “And, Lord haste the day”. Then, I start to build the volume and add strength all the way through the words “and the Lord shall descend,” and then bring it back down as I sing, “Even so, it is well with my soul.”
2. Faithful Love:  This song has one of the most powerful refrains ever written. “Faithful love from above came to earth to show a Father’s love. And I’ll never be the same, for I’ve seen faithful love face to face, and Jesus is hi name.”
3. Where No One Stands Alone:  I believe that most if not all of us have felt alone at some time or another in our lives, but this song lets me know I always have a hand to hold onto.  “Hold my hand al the way, Every hour every day, From here to the great unknown. Take my hand let me stand where no one stands alone.”

There are many other songs that I love, and I know I have left a few off of this list that I may add later, but these four songs are my absolute favorites. I know you have your favorites too, let us know what they are, and maybe we can make sure they are sang at your going away celebration.

Till next time,

Grump   

Yesterday’s blog started with a tongue in cheek illusion as to the importance of my blogging abilities and me. That got me to thinking about how many of us are very hung-up on ourselves, and our importance to the world. It’s amazing how many people feel they are indispensable to their boss, their friends, or their country. I hadn’t thought about the country angle until just now, but can you imagine how many people are in Washington at this very minute that think they are essential to the success of the USA?

Well, the sad fact is, every one of us can, and will be replaced, or done without at some point in our lives. We don’t like to think about it, but even families continue to live and succeed after a mom or dad passes away. Is it easy? No, but it happens. As a teenager my dad used to remind me every now and then that when it came to work, anybody can be replaced. February of this year marked the tenth anniversary of my leaving Fourway Ginning Association, after being the managing partner for nineteen years. Guess what? The gin is still there, and still doing business. My good friend and partner Lee Billings took over after I left, and I expect has done a better job than I ever did.

I used to run Fourway with the attitude that I could not be replaced. I felt like the partners would have a difficult time without me. People who meet me now look at my bucket hat, nametag, or book, and say, “GRUMPY, there’s no way you could be Grumpy!”  I get a kick out of that because for most of the nineteen years I ran Fourway Gin that’s exactly what I was, and you can ask anyone who knew me and they will confirm it for you.

For two or three years I had an office assistant named Sheila. Now, Sheila was a smart, girl with what appeared to be, not much sense. You know what I mean? I swear when that girl walked by you could hear bells ringing because she was dingy. I told her one time that the mistake she had just made was so obvious that she should have seen the light come on. Her response? “Well Kent the lights did come on, they just wudn’t nobody home.” I love that girl. She was fun to have around the office. She got along well with the farmers, and she made a mean chicken gumbo every once in a while.

Sheila asked me one time, “Kent since Angie brings her little boy to the office sometimes can I bring my birds?”

“WHAT!”

“Well I didn’t think it would hurt to ask, they’re really nice birds.”

Sheila didn’t get to bring her birds to the office, but that incident did earn her a cute nickname, Parakeet. Once I called her that it stuck, and all the farmers took to calling her that as well.

The thing is Parakeet helped to open my eyes as to the way I came across to folks most of the time. She was heading over to Seminole one day, so I asked her to drop by the cleaners and pick up some Levi’s I had had cleaned. She brought them to me without saying a word. But the next day as I sat there in my usual grumpy mood biting the head off anyone who might be dumb enough to come in contact with me, Parakeet came over and began rubbing my leg. Then she looked at me and said, “No wonder you’re always in such a bad mood, those jeans are so tight and stiff I’d be in a bad mood too.”

You know folks, she had a point, maybe not about the well-starched jeans, but about the uptight way I was living. I think I was a little to hung up on my importance to the world, and it was having an adverse effect on me. It wasn’t long after that that I bought my first pair of Dockers. I even came up with a speech title, From Briefs and Jeans to Boxers and Dockers. Even though I’ve never come up with the actual speech those words have stuck with me for quite a while, and they help remind me to lighten up when I get to feeling that things should go exactly the way I want them. Thanks Parakeet, I’ll love you forever, and my friends thank you too.  

Till next time,

Grump