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Get up crazy early. Stand in a long line. Spend hours in bone-chilling cold. Try to avoid being trampled by a stampeding crowd. Doesn't that sound like fun?
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It was the day of our class elections, and I had hoped to be elected class president that day. I lost by two votes. Later, I found out that my girlfriend and my best friend had somehow gotten so busy that day, yeah, they hadn't gotten around to voting. While subsequent events actually showed what better plans God had for that year, I wasn't too happy on that election day. No, especially with two people who were pretty close to me.
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Our friend, Ruthie, loved crossword puzzles, and she hates bridges. So when she's riding with us and there's a bridge, she knows what to do. She covers her face with her crossword puzzle book until it's over. I've teased Ruthie about this a lot. But then two bridges in a week collapsed in different parts of the U. S., and I was wondering if I should buy a crossword puzzle book. Oh wait - I'm driving.
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Our little granddaughter, when she was little, oh what a Mickey Mouse fan! So I got her a big helium Mickey balloon. It had gone through three pretty distinct phases. First, Mickey was totally flat and folded up into a little square. Then the lady at the store gave him a shot of helium that made Mickey big and flying high. In fact, without a string to tie him down, he'd fly away and be in Bolivia. I know from past experience, though, that there's another phase. Yeah, his flying high days can't last forever. One day we knew we were going to find him all soft, mushy, and (you can picture it can't you, right?) slowly shriveling up on the floor.
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This might come as a surprise to you, but athletes often have egos as big as their biceps. One way I've observed that is that I used to take a lot of pictures of our local high school football team. And I would ask my youngest son, "What happens when we tell the players that we're going to show some of those pictures at an event?" And he said, "Well, instead of three people coming, about 300 come." "Why is that?" "All because they all want to see themselves on the big screen." That would happen. One of the fellows would come up to me afterwards and he'd say, "You didn't have me in any of the pictures Mr. Hutch."
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Okay, I admit I'm a history guy. I stop at President's houses and all these places like that. My poor kids have gone on more tours of places: Revolutionary War, Civil War. And, of course we're going to stop and see that. We'd just come back from a vacation that had included a tour of a Civil War battlefield and we had our appropriate souvenirs. That night there was actually a revealing addition to my wife's and my room! On her side there was a gray hat, on my side there was a blue hat. We were just goofing! But guess who grew up in the south, and guess who grew up in the north. But I'll tell you what. Back in those days, as in many battles throughout history, the color of your uniform made you the other guy's target.
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I've been to South Africa several times. I love those accents, but not when they're talking about an inspirational sports icon killing his girlfriend. You may remember some years ago there was a lot of fog about what exactly happened, but what we do know is that South Africa's Olympic hero admittedly shot his girlfriend four times. Now, he said accidentally and the police said on purpose.
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We live in one of the mountainous regions of America. And, you know, mountains are beautiful once you can see them. In areas like this, you can start quite a few mornings with fog and mist. Sometimes it just obscures the mountains in the distance, and sometimes I can't even see the neighbor's yard. If you're the kind of person who lets the weather determine your mood, you could feel pretty "blah" on those foggy days. But there's something you can always be sure of when it's foggy. It's not going to be there all that long. Because even though you cannot see the sun, you know it's shining out there. It's burning off that fog until you can see the beauty around you again.
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After a while I gave up trying to read those little blurbs that were next to the senior pictures in a high school yearbook. In our school, the seniors got to write their own, and it was usually in cryptic abbreviations so they could get in as many words as possible. Now, those abbreviations refer to something meaningful to the person who wrote it; some important people, some important memories, "Oh, yeah, sure." But most of those blurbs are like hopelessly cryptic. I guess you had to be there in order to understand what they're writing about, right?
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Your first clue that something unusual ahead is a sign on the Interstate announcing what they call "the biggest cross in the Western Hemisphere." And, sure enough, as you approach that spot in Texas, you begin to see this huge white cross on the horizon. Actually, it doesn't look all that large from a distance. But then, as you drive that direction, it looks more and more impressive. Until you are coming up on it; (or especially when you do what I did), you stop and you stand at the foot of it - that cross is huge!
