Pass the Sparkling Grape Juice .. I'm Baptist

Today is New Year's Eve, a time when many will make complete fools of themselves (a little late for the party, aren't we? .. I do this on a regular basis) by drinking and dancing the night away.

I'm Baptist. We don't drink .. publicly (actually, I've never had a drop of alcohol in my entire life .. I'm enough of an idiot, sober). We don't dance (choreography is as close as we get). We don't overeat (okay, two out of three ain't bad). We .. "pray in" the new year.

I lived through 2008 and, believe me, praying for what's ahead in 2009, should be priority one.

Today is, also, my parent's anniversary. They've been married for something like ..112 or 113 years, I believe. I want to wish them a very Happy Anniversary (I hope they read this .. it's all they're getting from me).

You would think getting married on New Year's Eve would be exciting and memorable.

One year, my parents .. both of them .. forgot their anniversary and didn't think about it until a couple of days into January. How do you let a little thing like .. the anniversary of your wedding date, slip your mind? If balloons, party streamers, and fireworks aren't enough of a reminder .. perhaps, a very large wall calendar might be in order (I know what I'm getting them next Christmas).

I love you, mom and dad (so does Cheryl .. talking about you in today's post has taken the attention from her).

I have to get in the shower and finish getting ready. It's Wednesday .. the regular meeting day of my men's prayer group.

I've seen the numbers and 2009 is going to need all the prayers we can muster.

Amen?

The Twelve Daze of Christmas

"The Twelve Days of Christmas" seems, at first glance, to be a silly song about receiving gifts for a dozen consecutive days prior to December 25th. In actuality, it is religious in nature and speaks of the twelve days between Christmas and the beginning of Epiphany, which is January 6 (I see your point, Dinah .. just don't hold your breath .. no more carols).

The song lyrics say on the fifth day of Christmas the gifts were five golden rings, which represent the first five Books of the Old Testament .. the Torah or Pentateuch (today's 'The More You Know' moment has been brought to you by RKH).

I received a gift on the fifth day of Christmas: a book from my daughter entitled, "No One Cares What You Had for Breakfast: 100 Ideas for Your Blog," by Margaret Mason.

I'm not quite sure if this was supposed to be funny (a thought that passes through the minds of my readers each and every day) or if it was intended to be something like an .. intervention (you have an obvious problem .. we love you and want to lend our support).

As I read this "self help" guide, you may see some changes evolve in the style and/or subject matter of RKH's blogspot. Perhaps I have fallen into a "dear diary" rut by sharing about driving to Jackson, having headaches, experiencing sleepless nights, or being constipated (I believe fruitcake could be substituted for mortar, if necessary).

I tend to think I have been sharing slices of my life. You may wish for a smaller slice or, perhaps, you are stuffed and can't take another bite (enough, already!).

Over the next several days, I will be doing some "soul searching" and re-evaluating. Feel free to check back in and see what (if anything) I learned.

BTW, it was coffee, cream, two sugars .. I haven't read the book, yet.

Don't Spamalot

Even with high-tech computer filtering, I still get quite a bit of "spam" each and every day.

I won't explain the term "spam" .. if you are not familiar with this word, you would have no idea what a "blog" is .. hence, you would not be reading revkev's daily accounts of life, as seen through these eyes of .. cynicism. If you don't know what cynicism is .. (today's post has already taken a bad turn, it appears) .

If I were to believe every claim that comes through my "in box", I could buy prescription meds for pennies on the dollar; I would be able to reconnect with dozens of old classmates; I could retrieve hundreds of ecard that "someone" has sent me; and Cheryl could be totally satisfied .. yeah, right.

This morning, I checked my email to find the message, "Hey Baby, Wanna Party?" I have received this invite from many "hot babes with webcams" before. Today, however, the email was from (are you ready for this?) .. Bertha.

Bertha? Bertha? This disturbs me (so it must be bad).

I'm not "in" to the party scene, but if I were, someone named Bertha would probably not be the one to make all my wildest dreams come true (Vote for Pedro!).

Bertha is the name of someone's grandmother! Call me weird, but .. the thought of dentures and the smell of BENGAY® doesn't really "get my motor going."

BTW, I believe Baby Boomers will, one day, be held accountable for naming their children names like Megan (guilty as charged), Heather, and Tiffany. Those sound fine in the "early days." However, they are terrible grandmother names. Grandmothers go by Eunice, Clara and, yes .. Bertha!

One thing is for certain. I have no desire to be with anyone but my wife, so you "spammers" can quit wasting bandwidth on me. Even better, go find a job that doesn't bother people .. like telemarketing.

I've found the woman of my dreams. Kevin + Cheryl, 4 ever.

Frightening, isn't it, honey?

I'm a Fat Cat, Baby

The holidays are over (if you don't count New Year's Eve/Day .. which, I don't .. it's not for a teetotaler Baptist, like myself, who doesn't watch much football), but the leftovers remain.

If you were to look in my refrigerator right now, you would see mass quantities of food waiting for human consumption. Unfortunately, I'm the human (I am not an animal!) who .. consumps!

Ham, turkey, shrimp, green beans, potatoes (is that how you spell it, Dan Quayle?), etc., etc., etc. Then there's the desserts (too many to count) which have a tendency to "call my name" (I hear voices .. evil voices) late at night .. just before I go to bed.

This has consumed my thoughts (cookie, cookie .. me want cookie) and corrupted my thighs (I love that old gospel song, "He Looked Beyond My Thighs and Saw My Knees").

Things have really gotten bad.

I have been very proud of myself for not gaining that much weight since graduating from high school (yes, I did finish .. surprise). Well, .. I got some new jeans for Christmas and Saturday night I had to go exchange them for .. "big boy" jeans. Yes, I wear a husky size, now. I'm so ashamed!

All this talk about food and weight gain has made me depressed.

I think I need some ice cream to help cheer me up.

That's a Wrap

Today is the day. All the Christmas lights and decorations must come down and be packed away, never to return (until the Saturday after Thanksgiving .. 2009).

They say (again, I'm still not quite sure who they are), when the cat's away, the mice will play. I say, when the cat's away .. hurry, take down the Christmas stuff. Not very poetic, but true.

Meg and Will are with his parents until late today. This means we have a brief window of time before the "grandcats" return to wreak havoc and continue their reign of terror (actually, they are pretty well behaved .. well behaved is boring and doesn't add readers to the blog).

We can take down all the "tinsel and garland" (that sounds like a New York law firm) today, or wait until January 3, when the whole crew heads back to North Carolina. Since my neighbors probably don't want to look at a "happy house" for another week or so, we're going for it .. today.

For those who are wondering, "happy house" is a term one of my friends uses for homes that keep Christmas lights (the icicle ones are particularly beautiful) hanging on the outside, year round. You've seen them and, perhaps, thought the owners were just too lazy to remove the handiwork they created with such zeal in early December.

This is not the case.

If you leave the lights hanging, whenever there's a special event (the birth of a new child, anniversaries, etc.), you can plug them in and let the entire neighborhood know .. we're happy at this house!

Well, Cheryl's not in to the whole "happy house" scene, so I'd better quit bloggin' and before she starts doggin'.

She'll regret this decision in May when her birthday comes and the house looks dark and abandoned.

All Good Things Must Come to an End

Drew has to be back at work this afternoon, so he is gathering his (now clean) clothes, packing up his Christmas gifts (that won't take long .. we're in a recession, you know) and getting ready to head east, in an hour or so.

It's always a blessing to have the "kids' in, even if it's for a couple of days. However, it seems to get harder every time when we have to (re)say "goodbye" and watch them back out (be careful, those cars fly over that hill) of the driveway.

The upside is Meg is still here .. so are her cats (oh joy .. rapture!). They are not bad cats. They are just .. cats. Nuff said.

I am my mother's child, so I am required .. by law, I believe .. to worry about my children 24/7. This means I have to "endure" Drew's four hour drive (with rain in the forecast) and wait by the phone to hear he has made it safely "home." As a side note, he won't remember to call and I will have to call him. This is the way it works. Always has. Always will.

Our time together was brief. However, we managed to eat a lot of good food, watched a few movies on DVD, and attended the church's Christmas Eve service as one big, happy family (cats not included .. sorry Jack & Dewey).

This was, definitely, a Christmas to remember .. and since my memory is not what it used to be ..

I have photographic evidence.

Happy Birthday, Jesus

'Twas the Morning of the Night Before Christmas

The kids are home and I want to spend more time visiting and less time blogging this week (sorry, fans).

These photos depict Christmas in the south.

Have yourself a Merry Redneck Christmas!

Here Comes the Son

It's been great having Will & Meg here for the last few days. However, there still seems to be something missing. Something that will make my holiday season .. complete. There is. It is my firstborn, a son .. and he shall be (is) called .. Drew.

Although we were able to see him during Thanksgiving (a couple of days, in Humboldt) and Megan back in October (a couple of days, in Pigeon Forge .. she got the better deal), this will be the first time the entire family has been together in quite a while (our family Christmas card has two pictures on it .. we couldn't get the four of us in one place long enough to snap a photo).

When the kids grow up and leave, things change.

I don't eat as many home cooked meals (until they come back, to visit .. note to self .. start new diet after holidays). I don't wake up in the middle of the night to see if their car is in the driveway (I still wake up in the middle of the night, but I don't check for their cars .. too often). I don't have anyone to argue with over small, insignificant, non-important issues (Cheryl wins every time .. that's no fun).

The "empty nest syndrome" is very real and it is devastating .. for a short while. However, you slowly start getting used to to idea of reclaiming your space and .. time.

There are no more band contests or ball games. There are no more fundraising items to sell (can I get an amen, somebody?). There are no more loans to float .. for the most part.

Life is a journey. There are ups and downs, highs and lows, goods and bads (I can go on and on .. I really 'got it' the day we learned opposites at school).

For this portion of the journey, there's just the two of us (except for the daughter, son-in-law, son, two cats, and five tons of dirty laundry that has returned to the nest for several days) and the Lord.

This week, the journey is a sentimental one.

Cover Me .. I'm Going In

With only three shopping days left before Christmas, someone needs to tell all those people at Walmart, can't you read? .. we're in a recession.

Money may be "tight" these days, but it sure is hard to find a parking space at any mall in any city across America, as we approach the twenty fifth of December.

We all like our "stuff" and I'm just as guilty as the next guy when it comes to wanting more things (an extra marital affair will never be my downfall .. electronics or computer related items, however? .. sometimes I'm disturbed by the way I look at my iPhone).

Even the Christian community .. those who know the real "reason for the season" .. is caught up in all the hype: Buy more (make that, charge more). Be happy.

Happiness comes and goes, but true joy can only be found in something .. or someone .. that lasts, long after the presents are unwrapped and the kids have gone back home.

The greatest gift you can receive this Christmas is the One, who's birth we celebrate.

"Where meek souls will receive him still, the dear Christ enters in."

Who Let the Cats Out?

Megan and Will arrived before 4:30 yesterday afternoon (it's another Christmas miracle .. forgive me for doubting) with their cats, Jack and Dewey.

Jack made himself at home right away, but Dewey found it necessary to hide under the bed for a little while (like I do when Cheryl has yard work for me) before making an appearance.

Now, they are both quite comfortable in their new environment and I have to fight for my regular spot on the couch and at the dining room table.

I'm a dog person. I spend so much time in the dog house, I readily identify with my canine counterpart, plus I had a golden retriever for many years (this will be our first Christmas without Shadow .. he was the best) and he made me feel like I was the most important person in the world. When I arrived home after a long day at work, there was a lot of tail wagging (his was wagging .. mine was dragging) and it really boosted my spirits.

A cat can "take you or leave you." They might acknowledge your presence at the end of a work day .. they might not. It just depends on their mood at the time of your arrival.

They, also, like to suddenly leave a room .. without warning or reason. What's that all about?

Cats are curious creatures. In fact, one is half way up the trunk of my Christmas tree at this very moment.

Please excuse me. I must go and help prevent a catastrophe.

Over the River and Through the Woods .. then Turn Left on Chere Carol Road

If everything goes as planned, Megan and Will .. and Jack & Dewey (our grandcats) should be here before the end of the day .. yeah! They left their North Carolina apartment late yesterday afternoon and made it all the way to Newport, TN (that's where Meg's text said they were .. I received it at 1:40 this morning).

They are, approximately, six hours away from our house and the start of a ten day Christmas break in West Tennessee (I'm excited right now .. my tune may change after having our "cat free" environment invaded by two creatures of the feline persuasion for the next week and a half).

My daughter looks a lot like me (a fact she can not deny .. lament, yes .. deny, no). However, she acts a lot like her mom. This means she loves to sleep in on Saturday morning, if at all possible.

I'm sure the motel where she and Will stayed last night (make that .. early this morning) has a checkout time of eleven o'clock or so. I'm also sure, they could request a late checkout and stick around a little longer.

My point is this. That six hour drive from Newport to Humboldt may take far longer than I would expect.

I'm an early riser .. for the most part. If I have somewhere to go, I want to be up, out and on the road by "dawn's early light." If I'm on time for an event, I'm late for an event (I will make an ideal senior citizen .. they arrive, at least, one hour before any planned activity I have).

Megan and Will have a different concept of time and "time travel" .. a wrong one. They are more laid back in their approach to life .. que sera sera. Though this is a great frustration to me, it probably means they will live longer, healthier lives. Longer, healthier .. late for everything .. lives.

So, here I am .. waiting for the arrival of my daughter.

I couldn't do anything about it in March of '87, and I can't do anything about it, now.

Patience isn't one of my virtues.

It's All in the Cards

It's six days before Christmas. Can you believe it? It seems like only yesterday it was .. seven days before Christmas.

We do a photo card each year to send to friends and family and those cards were mailed yesterday afternoon. Hopefully, they will get to their respective destinations before Christmas day. If not, many of you can look forward to the Hamilton family's New Years resolution (600 dpi on 4 x 8 heavy paper).

Our church, has a "post office" located outside the worship center (that's 'sanctuary' for you old-schoolers) where you can leave Christmas cards for fellow (or lady) church members. You are asked to donate the amount saved on postage (42 cents times the number of cards .. see students, math is important) to international missions. This is on the "honor system" (there's a little container on the table to drop in your money) and not policed in any way (I'm thinking about installing a security camera and cracking down on the freeloaders). This works well for us, and the post office gets far more traffic (we have a huge pile up between 'I' and 'J') on a daily basis than this blog site.

Some people are not content in merely sending a Christmas card. They like to send a Christmas newsletter. This newsletter usually includes all the wonderful things (exotic vacations, cruises, etc.) they have done throughout the past year. I feel like I speak for 95% of the general public when I say .. you make me sick. I'm glad you had an amazing year, but do you have to rub it in my face?

My dog died in January, I blew up the engine in Cheryl's car, and I've had a colonoscopy. However, I'm not going to Kinkos with a dozen digital photos commemorating those events and a lengthy mailing list.

Some things are best kept private.

UPDATE: My wife likes those newsletters .. never mind.

Well, Lottie Da!

Today, I will be returning to my former church in Memphis to speak or sing or .. something (I haven't decided .. don't rush me, it's not until 11:30) for the Keenagers, the church's senior adult group.

I served (would you like fries with that?) at Whitten Memorial Baptist Church for six and a half years before moving to Humboldt, and part of my responsibilities included working with this wonderful age group (they had to keep me away from youth .. teenagers tick me off too easily).

There are plenty of memories associated with Whitten.

I worked with three pastors during my tenure (for some reason, they didn't stick around very long with me there .. go figure?) and each had his own unique personality and leadership style.

One of those pastors was Dr. Jack May, a longtime (let's just call like it is .. older than dirt) Memphis pastor who experienced, first hand, my twisted sense of humor (don't be shocked, I actually have one) on more than one occasion. He was so kind and trusting .. a perfect target.

I recall a staff Christmas party we had several years ago. It was at one of my favorite Memphis eateries (Houston's) and one of those dutch treat affairs (that sort of sounds like a tryst with a woman from Amsterdam .. it wasn't).

Before leaving the office, I took several Lottie Moon (Southern Baptist's special offering for international missions) envelopes from the church and put cash in them. When it was time to pay the ticket, I pulled these envelopes from my coat pocket, tore them open one at a time, and proceeded to remove the cash inside to take care of the bill.

I wish I had a camera to capture this beautiful moment. Bro. Jack's eyes were the size of saucers! I assured him, later, it WAS my own money. However, I'm not sure he ever believed me.

Wouldn't you?

Your Eyes Are Getting Heavy .. Aren't They?

Last night, Cheryl was the one who couldn't sleep (she probably felt guilty for making a snide remark about me at a local Christmas gathering, in front of all my friends). I am usually the insomniac around these parts and she is honing in on my territory. However, I'll gladly hand over my title and all that it entails.

The difference in last evening's scenario and when I'm up all night? If mama don't sleep .. don't nobody sleep.

When she finally got out of bed, the light came on (I don't mean she had an idea .. the light really came on) and that's all it took to awaken me .. that, and her poking and asking me if I was awake, too.

Consequently, when my alarm went off at 5 o'clock (it's blogging time), I gingerly turned it off (hit it with a baseball bat) and rolled over like a dog doing a trick.

So .. I'm late (for me) blogging, I've missed my Men's Prayer Group (sorry guys, I didn't have one today) and I feel a little sluggish (no, not that kind of sluggish .. I'm a 'regular' guy).

I need some coffee.

Missed It By That Much

Well, it's five o'clock in the morning and it appears that "sure thing" ice storm they predicted has either stalled or missed us completely.

This comes after everyone and his brother (I always felt sorry for the brother .. he must really feel left out NOT being included with everyone) cancelled meetings, games, practices, rehearsals, and classes in the entire West Tennessee area.

The "science" of weather forecasting is looking more and more like it's done with a roll of the dice or a Magic 8 Ball. At best, the meteorologist is "dead on," only fifty percent of the time.

If I apply that stat to my profession, I can have 26 "duds" on Sunday mornings in a year's time (come to think of it, that's a fairly accurate assessment of my work in the music ministry .. my apologies for being so critical, Jim Jaggers).

Because of this latest weather warning, I cancelled an outing (last night) with our senior adults to Bellevue's Singing Christmas Tree. I made the call around ten o'clock in the morning (we were to leave for Memphis at 3:30) to "can" the trip (for the safety of our seniors .. and because I really didn't want to go .. rainy days and Mondays always get me down). Some were disappointed (they would lose some money on this little venture .. boohoo, take a look at my retirement fund), but they understood. Thankfully(?), Bellevue cancelled their Monday night performance (on the advice of .. the National Weather Service) and that made me look better, when nothing ended up happening .. at all.

On the positive side, there is no ice to contend with this morning during Humboldt's rush hour (make that .. quarter hour .. okay, three to five minutes), and there's milk, bread and eggs in 99 percent of the homes in Jackson and it's surrounding area.

French toast, anyone?

Thank Ye, Thank Ye, Thank Ye

i

I appreciate everyone who participated in "The Splendor of Christmas" on Saturday and Sunday night at FBC Humboldt. You did a great job and I want to thank you from my bottom to my heart!

This was one of the more challenging projects to memorize, but you were all troopers (we got us a smoky bear at mile marker thirty one, good buddy) and did it .. with the help of Mike Z and the back screens (I could have fallen dead at the music stand and the show would have continued .. if something had happened to Mike, we would have wrapped things up and gone home).

The soloists were super and the trios (there were two different ones) were terrific!

Elvis left the building .. then tried to re-enter it, the Three Amigos (make that, Amigets) "spiced" things up in salsa style, and when Cowboy Kev sang, there wasn't a dry seat in the house.

The "show stealer," however, would have to be Julie .. or Helga, as she will now be known for the remainder of her natural life (it appears, her family might have been slightly embarrassed .. they have asked to be in the witness protection program and have assumed new identities).

There were many fun moments, but there were very serious ones, too.

When we "turned the corner" between secular and sacred, the gospel story was clearly presented in word (thanks, Tony & Linda) and song. By the end of the evening, there was no doubt about the true meaning of Christmas.

All in all, not a bad weekend. Not bad at all.