HAPPENS TO THE BEST OF US!

Jacob, age 82, and Rebecca, age 79, living in Florida, are all excited about their decision to get married. They go for a stroll to discuss the wedding, and on the way they pass a CVS drugstore. Jacob suggests they go in.

Jacob addresses the man behind the counter: "Are you the manager?"
The pharmacist answers, "Yes."

Jacob: "We're about to get married. Do you sell heart medication?"
Pharmacist: "Of course we do."

Jacob: "How about medicine for circulation?"
Pharmacist: "All kinds ."

Jacob: "Medicine for rheumatism and scoliosis?"
Pharmacist: "Definitely."

Jacob: "How about Viagra?"
Pharmacist: "Of course."

Jacob: "Medicine for memory problems, arthritis, jaundice?"
Pharmacist: "Yes, a large variety. The works."

Jacob: "What about vitamins, sleeping pills, Geritol, antidotes for Parkinson's disease?"
Pharmacist: "Absolutely."

Jacob: "You sell wheelchairs and walkers?"
Pharmacist: "All speeds and sizes."

Jacob: "We'd like to use this store as our Bridal Registry."


from the Jewish Humor and Joke Page via Tom McMahon

TAKE THAT!

My 3rd great grandfather, Robert Boyd Dobbins, was ordained a Presbyterian minister in 1804. From then until his death in 1854 he offered classic Presbyterian faith and practices to his flock, whether they liked it or not. Some who didn’t like it were relatives. Here’s an example taken from the original Session minutes now residing in a bank vault in Ipava, Illinois, a copy of which I was able to obtain back in 1987.

In the spring of 1838 “Abraham Miller appeared before Session and confessed that he had been guilty of the sin of profane language, for which he was sorry, and asked the forgiveness of the Church, which was granted, and he was continued in the Communion of the Church.”

Four years later, in 1842, the Session decided that they had unfinished business with Abraham Miller for neglecting the ordinances of God’s house and neglecting family worship. He was cited to attend the March 12th meeting in Rev. R. B. Dobbins house to receive a copy of the charges and citations for witnesses if he wished them, or to answer to the charges if he chose to do so at that time, and that the Moderator (RBD) serve the citation.

On March 12, Abraham Miller appeared once again before the Session:

(He) being present, was asked by the session if he wished to receive a copy of the charges and citations for witnesses. He replied that he wished to hear the charges read a second time. Which was done. He acknowledged the facts stated in the charges, but denied that he was under obligations to maintain family worship, and said the Session could not prove it from the bible or Confession of Faith. Session labored with him for two hours to convince him of his error, when he replied that he considered he had defended himself in what he had said. He rose up and said there was a great deal of hypocrisy in family worship, and a great deal of devilishness carried on in it, and left the house. Session decided that from his own acknowledgements he ought to be suspended from the communion of the Church. And he is hereby suspended until he gives satisfactory evidence of repentance.

Abraham Miller was married to Rev. Dobbins’ daughter Mary. There is no record of whether or not he ever repented.

Genealogy is SO much fun!

TRUE? NOT TRUE? A LITTLE TRUE? WHO KNOWS?

There is one thing you can count on: if you see a study written up in a newspaper that says adding Vitamin E to your daily health regimen has shown to be of great benefit, then shortly after you buy yourself a bottle of 500 pills another study will say that first study was flawed. When I changed medical plans a couple of times ago, my new Primary Care Physician asked me why I was taking a certain combination of pills. I told him I’d read that this would be good for me, and he laughed and said other studies indicated it was of no value.

The latest is the fish-oil scare, with claims of almost all fish-oil supplements having higher than acceptable levels of mercury, PCB’s and other toxins. My thinking is if you are trying to find an excuse to stop taking your fish-oil pills, let this be your excuse. If you and your quasi-scientific brain think your cardiovascular system needs the fish-oil more than it needs higher triglycerides, then ignore the study.

I do like to read about studies, however, but I prefer reading about studies that make me laugh. The ones that make me laugh the most are the ones that our government gives funding for, such as several thousands of dollars for someone doing a study on the average number of chin hair on a pig. (No, I haven’t actually seen that one yet, but let it represent the studies that our tax dollars are funding, whether it is something vital we need to know or not.)

For some reason, March seems to be a good month for funny studies. Last year in March the newspapers reported on a study titled, “The Spatial Distribution of the Seven Deadly Sins Within Nevada,” the Seven Deadly sins being lust, gluttony, greed, sloth, wrath, envy and pride. (Lest you look in the good book for them, they aren’t there named in that order but a quick read of Proverbs 6 will give you more sins than you are probably interested in knowing about). At any rate, this study was done by some Kansas State University geographers to show how quantified information could be mapped. And the information was not the issue; the mapping of the ridiculous data was.

The researchers created parameters for each sin: Wrath was calculated by comparing the total number of violent crimes as reported to the FBI per capita. Lust was calculated by compiling the number of sexually transmitted diseases reported per capita. Glutton by counting the number of fast food restaurants per capita, and so on. The maps they created were clever. The findings and the illustration of them were presented at the annual meeting of the Association of American Geographers. All agreed this was a whole lot of fun.

This month the L. A. Times has given us another funny study. Two brothers, one a director at a university food and brand lab and the other a biblical scholar, have analyzed 52 depictions of the “Last Supper” in a quest to see if over the years the food portions served at the last supper had actually increased.

Using the size of each apostle’s head as a basis for comparison, the researchers compared the sizes of the plates in front of the diners, the food servings on those plates and the bread on the table. Assuming that men’s heads have remained fairly constant in size over the last thousand years, their study indicated that as entrée portions rose, so too did the size of the plates – by 65.6%.

This study, too, was called “fun” by other nutrition researchers, and no one is driving any kind of stake in on the deductions. But to me it is fun to read about and make wild extrapolations on.

My old college statistics professor always made sure we understood that statistics could be manipulated to give us the results that we wanted, but we certainly never had such fun playing with them as these folks have.

Now going back to the present day studies in question – Vitamin E and Fish oil: did I give them up? Do I believe the test results? Which test should I believe? Are the authors just having fun? The only thing for sure that I can say is that the fish oil pill is way too big to go down easily, and God save you from burping afterwards.

YOVONNE JONES
1947-2003

Every once in a while we are blessed with finding someone with whom we totally “connect.” Yovonne was one of those people in my life. She had a presence about her that was tangible. Even if she was out in the warehouse, where she was the head supervisor, I was always aware that she was one of the main reasons why our facility ran so well. There was no problem so big or so small that I felt uncomfortable discussing with her and getting her “take” on the matter. I valued her attitude, her approach, her reasoning and her constancy. I felt she brought one of the few examples of professionalism to our operations staff.

I think one of the reasons I found her special was that she was strong in the areas where I was weakest. She made decisions without shooting from the hip or waffling on the reasons. I remember how the previous supervisor used to sit in the staff meetings and when the boss asked him about something, he’d get all mealy-mouthed and try to figure out an answer that wouldn’t come back to bite him. Yovonne’s approach was the exact opposite; she believed in her decisions and was forthright in her explanation of them. Dissembling was not one of her strategies; she told it like it was. I so admired her for that.

She knew what the goal was and how to get there. Many supervisors and managers trample people in that process but Yovonne considered her charges as valuable employees and worked to bring them along in every way. That she was supremely successful was testified by the number of “little people” who came to pay tribute to her at her memorial service.

And she was such fun. She was one of the reasons I could get through each day at our facility. It was so hard those last couple of years; work had stopped being fun, but Yovonne hadn’t. She would fly into my office and say, “Miss Bobby, I’ve got a problem.” We’d sit and talk about it a bit, with her solving the problem in the process of ruminating about it. She didn’t need me. She needed a safe place where a sane person could be a sounding board. I was so happy that I was there where she could take a minute to restore herself. She felt incompetent to write a letter and always asked my help. She knew exactly what needed to be said. I simply put the words in some kind of order for her. That was my talent, and I thought of it as my tiny gift to her, considering the enormity of her own talent. It pleased me a great deal to do the simple typing for her. It is what friends are for.

Probably the one event that captures in my mind what Yovonne stood for was the time in staff meeting when we were all discussing which staff members should be CPR trained. Names of various people, all men, were being tossed around and everyone had a different idea of who all should be given that responsibility. I finally stated, “I want Yovonne trained, because with her I know she will get the job done. If anything happens to me, I want to be placed in her hands.” Everyone laughed, but they knew I was right. And she made all of us rethink our definition of gender roles. I’d stack her up with the best of any man.

I felt that she and I were like sisters, and I would have been proud to be her real sister, even though our skin was not the same color. I’m aggrieved that she had to suffer the terrible indignity of a cancerous brain tumor, and yet as hard as it is to say, I’m glad that she isn’t suffering any more. But that doesn’t take away the pain I feel. I am missing her a lot, still, after all this time.

Rest in Peace, my friend.

PUBLIC SCHOOLS & PUBLIC RELIGION?

This morning I was mulling over a recent article I read about a Kentucky "to-do" having to do with religion. Seems that the head football coach of a high school took about 20 players on a school bus to his church for an evening revival meeting. He thought it would bring the team together. It was a voluntary outing. Parents' permissions were not required. The coach paid for the gasoline. The coach left it to the team members to advise their parents. One of the young attendees said the coach told him and other players that the outing would include only a motivational speaker and a free steak dinner. The school superintendent also attended.

What caused the tempest is that about half of the players responded to the altar call and were baptized afterwards. Some of the parents of these boys were ok with what happened, others were furious. The legal community, at least up to the time of the writing of the article, was divided on whether or not this action violated Supreme Court edicts on the separation of church and state. I'm not in a position to know the legal ramifications, but I did kind of make the excuse that this was Kentucky and probably a part of the "bible belt" and as such probably didn't know that this kind of thing was not really a good idea any more, involving the school with religion.

So this morning while I was re-reading the article, I thought about how when I was in elementary school there was a program called "Released Time Christian Education." Once a week those children whose parents had given permission (by way of a signed release) were walked across the street to a church where we had Bible stories told to us, and at the end of the hour we were walked back to our classroom. I did that my 4th grade year at Willard Elementary; even changing schools made no difference, except that during the last two years at Whittier Elementary, there was no church nearby so a trailer was pulled to the street in front of the school and we were instructed in that portable classroom. I am not aware that there was proselytizing to the extent of an altar call, but then I'm not sure at that young age I would have recognized one if I saw it.

In light of today's careful treading of water when it comes to religion and the public school system, I thought that Released Time Christian Education's time had passed. But I Googled to see if I could find anything on its history - and to my shock and surprise I found the following, at http://www.orangert.org/

What it's all about...

PURPOSE - The purpose of Released Time Christian Education classes is to share God's Word with the 4th and 5th grade boys and girls in the public schools and to assure them of His love and forgiveness through His Son Jesus Christ. Hundreds of students are enrolled annually in the classes in Orange. For many, this is their only Bible study.

Once a week 4th and 5th grade children attend a 40 minute Bible Study. Students are walked to a near-by Chapel-On-Wheels. During this time a variety of teaching methods including visuals, music, chalk talks and dramas are used. Each child is treated as a special and unique individual who is loved by God. Everyone is welcome.

UNDER THE LAW - The program has been available for the 4th and 5th grade students in the Orange Unified School District since February 1954. Under the Released Time Religious Education Law (California Education Code section 46014) local school boards may give permission to release students once a week for religious instruction during the school days. Released Time Christian Education classes are not held on minimum days.

So obviously it's NOT just Kentucky. Of course a big difference is that at least with RTCE permission from the parents is secured. But also in Kentucky it wasn't done on school time.

I don't claim to have any answers. I am not sure of what the questions are, either. So I'll simply leave this for you to mull over, in case you feel like it.

OH NO! NOT AGAIN!

About the only snails I can stomach (to look at, not to eat) are the tiny little things that clean the sides of a fish tank. I don’t know anyone who could find fault with those little guys. The garden variety of snail is another matter. I don’t like to see them, I don’t like what they do to a garden, and I most especially don’t like to accidentally step on one in the evening when I’m taking a walk barefooted and don’t see the ugly thing crossing the sidewalk in front of me.

I don’t mind snakes. I don’t mind lizards. I am not crazy about earthworms but I let them be because they are good for the soil. But there is something just revolting about a snail. I have eaten a raw oyster but never a cooked snail. And I never will.

Thank goodness I don’t live in Florida. I read in the newspaper that they are having an invasion of Achatina fulica - giant snails. Again.

Seems in 1966 a little kid smuggled three snails into the Miami area. The article doesn’t say where he got them, but apparently Grandma didn’t like them any more than I would like them and she turned them loose. She didn’t even step on them, throw them against a wall, toss them out in the street or pour salt on them – all ways I’ve heard of to get rid of snails. Within 7 years a census was taken of these giant snails and searchers found they had multiplied from 3 to at least 18,000.

How they disposed of them I don’t even want to think about. But whatever they did was enough to get rid of them. They are major plant and citrus destroyers, plus they eat houses - stucco and plaster - to help grow their shells. But the worst of it is that they spread diseases to humans. Now the newspaper article didn’t say how the disease was spread, but it didn’t take me long on Google to see that most of the damage comes from eating them.

Oh, gross!

From the little I could understand of the medical reports, there are parasites galore inside the snail flesh. Eating them cooked should kill the parasites but it seems the damage can be done just by touching the snails while preparing to cook them. And since the parasite causes a form of meningitis and often ends in death, it just isn’t something you want to take a chance on. But I’m sure there is some restaurant that is going to say it ain’t so and serve a giant snail anyway, probably like a shrimp bent over a finger of rice in a sushi parlor. And there is going to be someone foolhardy enough to try it. There always are. Consider the pufferfish.

Florida is going on the attack. I imagine while the humans are taking their own census, the federal and state powers that be in Florida are going to do another Achatina fulica census to determine how many are back and how aggressive extermination programs should be.

After being in Florida one time – on August 2, 1975, arriving by plane and heading to Ft. Lauderdale for a honeymoon cruise - I could never understand why anyone would live in a place where when you tried to breathe air all you got was water in your lungs. Now I am even more confident that Florida is not the place I want to be. Battling large bugs, ugly alligators and that summer humidity is bad enough. Now to think of finding a giant snail crossing one’s path, if not on one’s plate, is just too much.

I MUST GO DOWN TO THE SEA AGAIN....

I admit to not knowing much about Queen Victoria and Albert. I knew more about the Victorian era and Victorian prudery and her wearing of black for the rest of her life after Albert died. But about the persons of the Queen and her Prince I really knew very little.

A new book just came out about them and once again I have had to put everything aside while I read this book from cover to cover. Having spent a bit of time in England I was fairly familiar with the places the book talks about but less so with the monarchs and their lifestyle.

I was really surprised when I ran into a sentence that said: “She (Victoria) liked to sail, and she found it refreshing to immerse herself in the sea in the sanctuary of her bathing machine.” I didn’t have a clue as to what a bathing machine was. And the book offered no clue.

There is a famous engraving by William Heath done about 1829 which shows women, called “dippers,” who assisted the bather both in and out of the sea, as well as in some cases actually pushing them into the water and then yanking them out quickly as part of their bathing experience.

Apparently I am one of the few who didn’t know all about them. But quick learner that I am, I discovered that almost every culture that has the sea close at hand has gone through a period of using these machines for modesty’s sake. They were in fashion as early as 1805 and still being used as late as 1910.

Victoria wrote in her journal in 1847: “Drove down to the beach with my maids and went into the bathing machine, where I undressed and bathed in the sea (for the first time in my life), a very nice bathing woman attending me. I thought it delightful till I put my head under the water....”

For the most part, these bathing machines were four-wheeled carriages with an 8’x8’x10’ room set on it, made either of canvas or wood sides. It had a door that closed tightly but no windows. The person got into the "machine" on the beach while in their street clothes and changed into the bathing apparel. Then the machine was either pulled by horses or by human power down to the water. The door had to face the ocean, so when the person opened the door he or she could step down a small set of stairs and enter the water with great privacy.

Since the book did not elaborate on exactly what Queen Victoria experienced, we don’t know if she used “dippers” or not, but you can be sure great attention was paid to getting her out of the bathing machine and into the water without even the tiniest glimpse of the Royal tush or the Regal bosom. Below is a photo of Victoria's bathing machine.

As the years went on, the bathing machine evolved to a higher level and some of the machines were pulled in and out by cables propelled by a steam engine.

Well, I certainly learned something new, and though I doubt if I’ll ever read another book that talks about a bathing machine, learning new things are good for a person. Left to my own devices to figure out what a bathing machine might be, I might have pictured a big wash tub type thing that people sat in and while they were being pulled down to the sea water some brushes inside the tub rubbed the grime of the day off the bather, like an old agitator washing machine.

Anyway, now I know the facts. Makes me wonder what else I’ll find in this excellent book before I reach the end. Incidentally, the book is called “We Two - Victoria and Albert: Rulers, Partners, Rivals” by Gillian Gill.