RRN Online Volume 284

November 10 '01

Volume 284

Last Straw Small Events Shape Our Lives

It's not always the big events Straw Bearer that impact us the most, rather it is often the little things that do the most damage. In the case of the proverbial camel, it was not the weight of all the other straw that was heaped upon him that broke his back. Instead, it was that "last straw" that did him in.

I've seen marriages come apart where one partner, after suffering burden upon burden for years, threw in the towel after incurring a "last straw." I've witnessed a parent lose it, when a strong willed child broke that parent's threshold of self control with a "last straw."

Being a former teacher, I've had students test my limits as a disciplinarian, and I've been broken by a "last straw." I have suffered an occasional case of road rage when an inconsiderate motorist pulled out in front of me, causing me to break hard to avoid a collision. My rage was precipitated by the action of one motorist, following a steady buildup of previous offenses of other motorists.

The school violence seen across the country with students shooting teachers and/or other students over the past few years, and the madman rampages of postal workers and disgruntled employees were likely the culmination of deep seated anger or hatred triggered by a single "last straw." Last straws abound, and by their very nature differ only slightly from other straws, making detection almost impossible. They lie in wait at every turn in life and strike when least expected.

On October 28^th, a "last straw" slipped up on me in an unexpected place, church. Now, some may find that inexcusable, as Christians are expected to be perfect or if not perfect at least able to deal with their own imperfections or the imperfections of others.

On a typical Sunday morning, I find I’ve accumulated quite a lot of straw during the week. I’d like to think that by attending church some of that straw would be lifted and my burden made lighter. Unfortunately, in recent years, it’s not uncommon to have more straw placed upon me after I get to church.

I have shared in previous articles, my distaste for non-traditional worship services and all the trappings contained therein, so I’ll beg off doing so again at the moment. Suffice it to say First Baptist had scheduled another "Come and See" service that uses a format designed to remove any obstacle that might prevent an unbeliever from feeling out of place while visiting our church. Short of serving up popcorn and candy, FBC does its best to achieve that goal.

"Come and See" services are not to my liking, but then persons in my age group are not often consulted about such matters, and even when they are it's safe to say a certain individual selectivity is employed, and there’s usually no shortage of yes men/ women. Having been exposed to four "Come and See" services during the prior church year, I felt I could sit miserably through one more, comforted only in knowing what to expect.

Yet, I did not expect to be uprooted from my usual pew, and as I walked into the sanctuary, I found my row and the four in front of it were all reserved. That would become the first straw of the morning.

In the past few years, it seems whenever reserved seating is needed for anything at FBC, my section is always chosen. I grumbled mostly to myself about the situation but took a seat on the next available pew and soon overheard our Minister of Music explaining that the reserved area was for a children’s choir. That was the second straw.

Don’t misunderstand, I enjoy hearing a children’s choir as much as the next guy, but whenever the children finish singing, they always scurry back to Mama and Daddy like baby chicks to a hen. They leave in their wake a gaping hole in the seating on the front four or five rows of the east section of the sanctuary. If I am to sacrifice my seat of preference for an entire service, I'd feel much better if it were occupied for the entire service.

Settling into my anticipated misery for the morning, I opened the Order of Service (Worship Guide/ Church Bulletin or what ever it's called these days) to discover that no hymns were listed. Apparently, we'd be singing choruses with words projected on the big screen. For me, that was the "last straw," as I think I could have endured all the entertainment that lay in store for all of us, had I been allowed to sing a hymn or two. I think I could have endured hearing the testimony of a Mississippi State alumnus of some athletic fame who was on the program, but I didn't get up Sunday morning intent on just enduring. I got up to attend church in hopes of worshiping my Creator and Savior.

The church of my choice may strip away all of those things that I hold dear in a worship service to follow the call of a popular trend and still I'll seek to meet the church halfway. However, if my church chooses to ignore, even for a day, the importance of singing hymns of praise, then my will breaks beneath the weight of the "last straw."

The singing and worship at the First Methodist Church that morning, a mere block away, did wonders for renewing my soul.

Gas Grill Purchase Made

In a recent article I mentioned my need for a new, outdoor, gas grill. The life expectancy of gas grills is typically far less than what one might expect, especially when used regularly. When the cast aluminum cooker portion of my last Charbroil grill completely separated itself from its base, it seemed time to purchase a new grill. The separation was the second such occurrence. The bolts rusted out about two years ago and after drilling some new holes, and installing some brass bolts (leftovers from a toilet tank repair) the grill held together until mid September.

If there is a good time to buy a new grill, it would have to be when the old one plays out. Under normal circumstances that does not usually coincide with a bank account with extra money in it. Thankfully, the need arose as rebate checks were arriving from insurance companies, utility companies, and mortgage firms in the aftermath of disposing of our real estate holdings in Greenville.

I had seen some nice looking grills in Sam's in Tupelo last July when Barbara and I were shopping for supplies for the fish fry event, but the price was prohibitive. Therefore, I simply placed them on my wish list, hoping to get another year of service out of my existing grill.

When it became apparent that a new grill was needed, I remembered seeing some at both Lowe's and Sam's in Tupelo, so I made a late afternoon run on a weekday to see what was still available in early October. Looking for something durable, I limited my looking to those grills with the larger price tags. A Weber brand at Lowe's looked promising, but after reevaluating the grills at Sam's, I decided the stainless steel grill offered at Sam's was the better value. The grill is a Member's Mart brand, which is a private label name used by Sam's. It's believed to be manufactured by Grand Hall, similar to the one illustrated here.

Most of the exterior of the grill is stainless steel, but I was more concerned about the quality inside the grill than the exterior. The three burners beneath the huge cooking grid are cast iron. I've had no experience with cast iron burners, but I figure they'll outlast the metal ones found in most gas grills. The cooking grid consists of three sections of stainless steel rods that offer the promise of longevity.

I would have preferred a raised rack above the cooking grid for warming breads or cooking meats slowly, but the Sam's grill I chose does not contain one, though it appears to have the hardware needed to hinge a raised rack. The side burner is a nice accessory and pretty much offsets the lack of a warming rack. I've had side burners on other grills and found them to be handy when needed, but have not often needed to use one.

Barbara went along with me on October 6^th, to purchase the grill and write the check. With my deteriorating handwriting, I let her write most all the checks these days. The grill came unassembled and in two boxes, neither of which was light enough for Barbara to assist me in loading into the bed of the pickup, so I required the assistance of a clerk. Unfortunately, the clerk had to stay in Tupelo, and I had the chore of unloading everything by myself.

Unloading the grill took far less time and effort than assembling it did. I worked most of the afternoon, just over three hours as I recall, reading instructions and putting it together. Rayanne and her entourage were on hand and had hoped it would be assembled in time to use that evening. Fearing I would not make the supper deadline, I asked Barbara to whip up something in the kitchen instead.

In the month since christening the new grill, it has been used a dozen or more times. I'm still learning how to regulate the heat, as I'm not accustomed to a three-burner cooker. I've experimented with different heat settings and intend to further experiment cooking with one burner off, using that section to slow-cook steaks or burgers after searing them on the "hot" sections. While I've not burned up anything yet, I have had a tendency to overcook my steaks.

Gas Gouging A Question Of Ethics

One questionable positive about driving all over the state of Mississippi is being exposed to a variety of gasoline vendors. Some small towns have only one or two major brands, but the bigger cities have almost every brand available in the state. Seldom does one find much variance within a given area with regard to the price of a gallon of gas, and once the vendors hit upon a figure that doesn't send drivers in search of cheaper prices in an adjacent county, the price of gas doesn't seem to deviate much from a formula based upon the cost of a barrel of crude oil.

When Barbara and I took up temporary residence in Greenville almost a dozen years ago, we were surprised at the price of gasoline in the Delta. Greenville, MS, gas prices seemed to run from six to ten cents a gallon higher than the same brands in Pontotoc. Indianola was consistently higher than Greenville by as much as four to six cents per gallon. It was not always prudent to fill up in Pontotoc, and we were apt to need gasoline in Ruleville, Marks, Holcomb, Winona, Grenada, Batesville, Bruce, or Oxford as we journeyed between Pontotoc and Greenville each weekend for more than a decade. We always tried to avoid purchasing gasoline in Tutwiler, partly because of the lack of pale faces one could find pumping gas there, but mostly because gasoline in Tutwiler was usually higher than the same brand in Indianola.

Approximately three years ago, Greenville gasoline prices suddenly began to align themselves with those in Pontotoc and slowly dropped a few cents per gallon cheaper. Nowadays, it appears the pricing disparity between the two cities on opposite sides of the state have flip-flopped from that of ten years ago.

I'm not the only traveler who has noticed that consumers in Pontotoc have been subjected to high gasoline prices since about the time of the tornado last February. A couple of disgruntled consumers expressed themselves in the letters to the editor section of the local paper, but the price of gasoline in my fair city did not drop dramatically until near the end of summer.

Gasoline prices of major brands in Pontotoc, at the time of this article, are $1.269, but most folks in speaking the price, drop the nine, rounding the cost down to $1.26. A like brand in Batesville is the same price, but Ruleville has the same brand for $1.16. Indianola's price was $1.09, earlier in the same week, and a few miles outside of Jackson, MS, my favorite brand was $1.00 in mid week.

There may be a legitimate explanation for Pontotoc's gasoline prices to be so out of line with the historically elevated prices of the Mississippi Delta, but I've not found it. However, if one considers the inflated prices that consumers in Pontotoc had to bear for several months following the tornado, then questionable ethics or gas gouging on the part of the retailer is not unthinkable.

Any day now, the price of gasoline in Pontotoc will drop to a new low for this year. New competition is soon to open just north of the city limits at the intersection of Highways 15 and 76. Several weeks ago the local newspaper reported the owner of the Texaco supplied food and gas mart had a similar outlet in Holly Springs and there the pump prices were about fifteen cents per gallon cheaper than those found in Pontotoc. Call me cynical, but I'm wagering the station owners in Pontotoc are making the extra dollars while they can.

Once the new station is open, I intend to fill up there as often as possible. No doubt the folks who sell gasoline in Pontotoc will lower their prices to be in line with the new competition, but I for one won't be too forgiving of the gouging that has transpired over the past several months. That's not to say I won't ever buy another tank of gas inside the city limits, but it'll be a cold day when I do. When you consider that Supervalu pays for all the gas I burn in the Taurus I drive, then you'll get an idea of the impact and strength of the last sentence.

Bodock Beau Laugh A Little

The editor was telling me about something that happened to him as he was leaving Young's Laundry and Car Wash last Saturday. He allowed that two young men in an SUV pulled alongside him as he opened his car door. They asked if Hwy. 15 would get them to Oxford.

They had those round Ole Miss funnels clamped at the top of the windows on each side of the vehicle. Our esteemed editor took the time to give them proper directions to his alma mater and seemed a little embarrassed that a couple of Ole Miss fans couldn't find their way to the Oxford campus.

I told him they were probably a couple of Mississippi State fans in disguise. There's no way a true Rebel could have been that drunk or that lost.

All that was before the game. Now, I'm not so sure. After all, I didn’t give Arkansas a prayer in whooping up on Ole Miss.

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A cabby picks up a nun. She gets into the cab, and the cab driver won't stop staring at her. She asks him why is he staring and he replies, "I have a question to ask you but I don't want to offend you."

She answers, "My dear son, you cannot offend me. When you're as old as I am and have been a nun as long as I have, you get a chance to see and hear just about everything. I'm sure that there's nothing you could say or ask that I would find offensive."

"Well, I've always had a fantasy to have a nun kiss me."

She responds, "Well, let's see what we can do about that: #1, you have to be single and #2 you must be Catholic."

The cab driver is very excited and says, "Yes, I am single, and I'm Catholic too!"

"OK" the nun says "Pull into the next alley"

He does and the nun fulfills his fantasy with a kiss that would make a hooker blush. But when they get back on the road, the cab driver starts crying.

"My dear child, said the nun, why are you crying?"

"Forgive me sister, but I have sinned. I lied, I must confess, I'm married and I'm Jewish."

The nun says, "That's OK, my name is Kevin and I'm on my way to a costume party."

Submitted by Dena Kimbrell

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A priest is walking down the street one day when he notices a very small boy trying to press a doorbell on a house across the street. However, the boy is very small and the doorbell is too high for him to reach.

After watching the boy's efforts for some time, the priest moves closer to the boy's position. He steps smartly across the street, walks up behind the little fellow and, placing his hand kindly on the
child's shoulder leans over and gives the doorbell a solid ring.

Crouching down to the child's level, the priest smiles benevolently and asks, "And now what, my little man?"

The boy replies, "Now we run!"