FIVE MINUTES WITH TOM MOOTY
As Published in the Newport (TN) Plain Talk
Release Date – Feb 2, 2012
Column Number - 1205
“WHO ATE LUCY’S HALF OF THE PIE?”
My older brother, Freddy (“The Big Ugly”) is a little bit weird – well, a lotta bit weird, actually; but we won’t go there. Please forget I said that.
Anyway, he was in the eighth grade when Fred Marvin and Josephine Celeste decided to yank us out of our roots, load up the Studebaker, and move to Frogpond, a suburb of Eastport, a suburb of Newport.
Some of his weirdness (oops, I said it again) is found in the fact that he was always a bit backwards in the friend-making category. I mean, it took him eight years to make one friend, and he really didn’t want to leave that one friend; and so, he stayed behind with my Aunt Frank and Uncle Paul. (Yes, I said, “Aunt Frank”. Don’t ask!)
Oh, ok, since you asked: Mom’s family had four girls who were named “Tootle”, “Jo”, “Frank”, and “Bill”. A brother, Alvin Thomas (for whom I am named) came along in the pecking order at some point in time; but I always thought that having an “Aunt Frank” and “Aunt Bill” was really surreal (before I even knew what “surreal” meant. I just liked using that word).
Anyway, Freddy stayed behind with Frank and Paul until he graduated and then Fred Marvin and Josephine Celeste went to get him, and drug him kicking and screaming up the two lane behind the aforementioned Studebaker.
Did I mention that “Big Ugly” had a problem making friends because he was so backwards?
Well, one friend he made (two actually) were twins, Wiley and Lucy Morgan, who lived over on Woodlawn. Since Freddy is so very much older than I, that must mean that Wylie and Lucy are --- well, you know.
There was no cafeteria at Newport Grammar until 1950; so we poor unfortunate, lunch deprived students had to fend for ourselves in the necessary daily intake of calorie-laden nourishment. I mean, Josephine Celeste’s mater sammiges were really good, what with all the mayo slathered on both sides; but, as the poet said (or should have said), “Into every life some soup beans must come”.
Seems that Lucy and Wiley just lived right over across that big rocky crevasse that separated their house from the school; and little Wiley wanted to go home to mama’s home cooking.
There was a homemade pie on the window ledge (remember when they used to do that); and Wiley was famished from cramming so much learning into his cranial cavity; so he took out his pocket knife, wiped off all the dirt, fingernail crust, and toenail jam; and proceeded to cut that pie in half and started munching as he sauntered back to the salt mines.
The only problem was that he ran out of pie before he ran out of path; so, he made the decision to do the only manly option open to him and turned around to go back and get the other half of the pie (Lucy’s half?). This time he was ‘bout purt near out of time; and had to put the pedal to the medal to make it back in time.
To this date, Lucy doesn’t know who got her half of the pie; and, since this information was shared with in the strictest confidence, I for one will never tell; but that doesn’t mean you can’t.
Now, you see, you would never have known that such a nefarious, pie-swiping character was living in our midst if it were not for me!
Ok! That’s enough of that since my friend Wiley has long since been forgiven from such a heinous act of atrociousness (and all his other sins) by acceptance of the shed blood of Jesus Christ; but I cannot help but wonder if maybe at least one of you, my dear readers, might still have sins clinging to you like tenacious barnacles on a stagnant boat bottom.
There is one answer; and only one! His Name is Jesus The Christ; and He is ready, willing, and available to wash you clean of your sins and put your feet on the Rock; and take you to heaven when you die, or He returns (whichever comes first).
Don’t know how to make that transaction? I do! Wiley does! And we will surely share!
These columns are written by Tom Mooty, Pastor of Newport’s West End Baptist Church; and can also be found on the church website: www.webaptistchurch.org. All comments can be sent to tommooty05@comcast.net or P.O. Box 851, Newport.
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Tuesday, January 31, 2012
"Tebowing in Everyday Life"
FIVE MINUTES WITH TOM MOOTY
As Published in the Newport (TN) Plain Talk
Release Date – Jan 26, 2012
Column Number - 1204
“TEBOWING IN EVERYDAY LIFE”
I usually try to follow the leadership of the Lord in planning my sermon “menus” well in advance; knowing that nothing ever catches the Lord off guard; and if something comes up at the “last minute” that I might have to deal with; I have all assurance that God knew all about that in the “first minute”, and if I am supposed to deal with it, He already has it covered. That way, I do not have to spend desperate Saturday nights working on a “Saturday Night Special” sermon; because every word, every phrase, every nuance is of utmost importance and could very well mean gaining or losing eternity in heaven for someone!
And eternity is a loooonnnnnnggggg time; and I take that position very seriously!
The same thing should be said about these little column excursions into seeming utter chaos which you are new reading. I assure you, I have a point in mind; and if you hang in through all the fluff at the first, you will see the point paragraph at the last.
For the past three weeks, I have brought messages on Sunday mornings on the general titles of “Knowing Jesus”, “Showing Jesus”, and “Going For Jesus”; and this Sunday, we will compile all these thoughts together in one big wad with ”Tebowing Jesus”!
Simply speaking, if you “know” Jesus Christ, you will quite naturally “show” Him by “going” for Him – in the style and on the stage God gives you.
Some Christians have extremely huge “pulpits” or “platforms” from which to expound on “knowing, showing, and going” Jesus Christ.
While I must say, I do not agree with many of the huge media “ministries”; there are a few that provide a very useful place of “knowing, showing, and going” for Jesus Christ. It must be said these massive ministries can have enormous circles of outreach (but sadly, many of them have deteriorated into worldly, secular seed beds of “seed money” and “show business”)!
Many original colleges and universities in the United States were started as outreaches of religious ministries to provide Bible training (sadly, many of them have deteriorated into worldly, secular seed beds of unrest and disbelief).
Many original hospitals and clinics in the United States were started as outreaches of religious ministries to provide healing to the masses (sadly, many of them have deteriorated into worldly, secular seed beds of political correctness).
Great publication empires have been started by religious ministries to provide reading materials to advance the cause the Christian Ministry (sadly, many of them have deteriorated into worldly, secular seed beds of watered-down, non-offensive pablum).
Everyone knows about young Dwight Lyman, who was struggling to eke out a living working as a shoe cobbler. He was uneducated and destined to become nothing more than a statistic until the mostly illiterate seventeen year old was led to the Lord by his Sunday School teacher, Edward Kimball; and founded the Moody Colportage (“publishing”) Company; Moody Bible Institute, Moody Memorial Church, and the Moody Evangelistic Association. Of course, his full name was D.L. Moody!
We all have “pulpits” from which we are to “know, show, and go” for Jesus Christ! Mine is not the same as yours and vice-versa; yours might be larger than mine and vice-versa; but we all have someone who needs to hear the message of Jesus The Christ!
Quarterback Tim Tebow of the Denver Broncos has a massive, world-changing “pulpit”: not a church, column, or broadcast – no, he has a football field; and his simple act of kneeling to thank the Lord Jesus for His blessings has caused millions of people to at least give a second look at The Lord – because they can see something that is real and unique in this young man’s life.
Thus, a new word has emerged on the scene: “Tebowing”; and its originator didn’t even graduate from “preaching school”. Imagine that!
These columns are written by Tom Mooty, Pastor of Newport’s West End Baptist Church; and can also be found on the church website: www.webaptistchurch.org. All comments can be sent to tommooty05@comcast.net or P.O. Box 851, Newport.
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As Published in the Newport (TN) Plain Talk
Release Date – Jan 26, 2012
Column Number - 1204
“TEBOWING IN EVERYDAY LIFE”
I usually try to follow the leadership of the Lord in planning my sermon “menus” well in advance; knowing that nothing ever catches the Lord off guard; and if something comes up at the “last minute” that I might have to deal with; I have all assurance that God knew all about that in the “first minute”, and if I am supposed to deal with it, He already has it covered. That way, I do not have to spend desperate Saturday nights working on a “Saturday Night Special” sermon; because every word, every phrase, every nuance is of utmost importance and could very well mean gaining or losing eternity in heaven for someone!
And eternity is a loooonnnnnnggggg time; and I take that position very seriously!
The same thing should be said about these little column excursions into seeming utter chaos which you are new reading. I assure you, I have a point in mind; and if you hang in through all the fluff at the first, you will see the point paragraph at the last.
For the past three weeks, I have brought messages on Sunday mornings on the general titles of “Knowing Jesus”, “Showing Jesus”, and “Going For Jesus”; and this Sunday, we will compile all these thoughts together in one big wad with ”Tebowing Jesus”!
Simply speaking, if you “know” Jesus Christ, you will quite naturally “show” Him by “going” for Him – in the style and on the stage God gives you.
Some Christians have extremely huge “pulpits” or “platforms” from which to expound on “knowing, showing, and going” Jesus Christ.
While I must say, I do not agree with many of the huge media “ministries”; there are a few that provide a very useful place of “knowing, showing, and going” for Jesus Christ. It must be said these massive ministries can have enormous circles of outreach (but sadly, many of them have deteriorated into worldly, secular seed beds of “seed money” and “show business”)!
Many original colleges and universities in the United States were started as outreaches of religious ministries to provide Bible training (sadly, many of them have deteriorated into worldly, secular seed beds of unrest and disbelief).
Many original hospitals and clinics in the United States were started as outreaches of religious ministries to provide healing to the masses (sadly, many of them have deteriorated into worldly, secular seed beds of political correctness).
Great publication empires have been started by religious ministries to provide reading materials to advance the cause the Christian Ministry (sadly, many of them have deteriorated into worldly, secular seed beds of watered-down, non-offensive pablum).
Everyone knows about young Dwight Lyman, who was struggling to eke out a living working as a shoe cobbler. He was uneducated and destined to become nothing more than a statistic until the mostly illiterate seventeen year old was led to the Lord by his Sunday School teacher, Edward Kimball; and founded the Moody Colportage (“publishing”) Company; Moody Bible Institute, Moody Memorial Church, and the Moody Evangelistic Association. Of course, his full name was D.L. Moody!
We all have “pulpits” from which we are to “know, show, and go” for Jesus Christ! Mine is not the same as yours and vice-versa; yours might be larger than mine and vice-versa; but we all have someone who needs to hear the message of Jesus The Christ!
Quarterback Tim Tebow of the Denver Broncos has a massive, world-changing “pulpit”: not a church, column, or broadcast – no, he has a football field; and his simple act of kneeling to thank the Lord Jesus for His blessings has caused millions of people to at least give a second look at The Lord – because they can see something that is real and unique in this young man’s life.
Thus, a new word has emerged on the scene: “Tebowing”; and its originator didn’t even graduate from “preaching school”. Imagine that!
These columns are written by Tom Mooty, Pastor of Newport’s West End Baptist Church; and can also be found on the church website: www.webaptistchurch.org. All comments can be sent to tommooty05@comcast.net or P.O. Box 851, Newport.
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Saturday, December 24, 2011
"ONE SAYS THIS; ONE SAYS THAT"
As published in the Newport (TN) Plain Talk
Release Date: Dec 1, 2011
Column Number: FM 1148
Unless you have been living under a rock somewhere on the back side of Frogpond, Tennessee; you have probably heard of the fiasco that is currently unfolding.
“What fiasco?” you may ask. Hey, pick one! There are plenty to go around.
The fiasco I’m talking about today is the one where one person says “this” and the other person says “that”.
You knowhatimean?
The lyrics by Gershwin/Gershwin say: “you say potato, I say potahto; you say tomato, I say tomahto” (actually you may say tomato or tomaho or whatever, but I say “mater”; but that is column fodder for yet another day).
Vice President Quayle got into a heap o’ trouble when he corrected a spelling student (from the card the school had given him) who had spelled the word “potato” instead of “potatoe”. I thought it was humorous that the press agitated itself into a frenzy about that; because I had just returned from Idaho on a mission trip (you do know the starchy, tuber from the perennial Solanum of the Solanaceae family for which Idaho is famous, don’t you) and they had the word “potatoe” right on their license plates. Potato, Potahto!
We have all recently heard anxious wannabe news people standing in crowded airports and proclaiming “The Day before Thanksgiving is the busiest travel day of the year”; and then they are back on Sunday standing in crowded airports and proclaiming “The Sunday after Thanksgiving is the busiest travel day of the year”. “Tomato, tomahto”.
We have all been “treated” to the expertise of the sports commentators who proclaim that “that play was the play of the game”. “The play of the game” is coming up right here! No pressure on that place kicker; but this is the “play of the game”.
Or how about “That shot was the shot of the year”; whether it was a golf shot, a basketball shot, a mumblypeg throw, a curler’s slide, a javelin throw, a hammer hurl, a vaulter’s “stickit”, a synchronized swimmers’ design, or a shooter’s shot – it was the (whachamacalit) of the year!
Many people hung on every word that was uttered in private or in secret, in open court or in side bar, in interviews or in news releases of the “Trial of the Century” (actually mis-carriage of justice) several years ago in Los Angeles. I think the Lindberg kidnapping trial personnel might have grounds to disagree; or the Alger Hiss hearings; or the Scopes “Monkey Trial” jury; or the Teapot Dome hearings; or the Nuremberg War Crimes trials; or maybe Sacco and Vanzetti; or Michael Jackson and his doctor buddy. President Johnson’s impeachment trial, President Clinton’s impeachment hearings, and President Nixon’s impeachment votes might just be in the running.
But, the OJ fiasco was officially crowned the “trial of the century”. Potato, potahto!
Gershwin/Gershwin went on to talk about “either and ither”; “neither and nither”; pyjamas and pyjahmas”; “vanilla and vanilla”; “bananas and banahnas”; “Havana and Havahnah”. Whatever! Press “one” for English!
Now the thing is whether or not we can say “Merry Christmas”. It’s no big thing (correctly pronounced in the Frogpond Universal Dictionary – “thang”) for me. Ima Sign (our electronic sign at West End) says, “It’s Merry Christmas! You can have happy holidays anytime”.
Seems our neighbors (naighbers) can’t get it scoped in; and they are going with the more politically correct “Winterfest” (which they start before Winter). Don’t want to offend anyone, you know!
Do we have a standard? Is there anything upon which we can depend?
Yes! Glad you asked! The Bible is God’s Inerrant, Infallible Word; and is the “ONLY THING” that will stand when your world is burning down around you! Better hang your hat on that Hook, my friend.
In a world of nothing but changes; you need something upon which you can depend! The Bible, God’s Word, is a wonderful Guidebook by which you can LIVE; but It cannot be beat as a Guidebook by which you can DIE!
Christian, it’s “Game On”; Let’s get cracking”!
Tom Mooty currently serves the West End Baptist Church as Senior Pastor. He writes this column for the Thursday edition of the “Newport Plain Talk”; and appreciates all comments. He can be heard on Sundays over WLIK at 11:00; and is the published co-author (with Michele Washam) of “Protecting Those You Love in an X-Rated World” (Bridge-Logos). Mooty has plans to enlarge his ministry into further publishing and broadcasting. Contact Mooty at tommooty05@comcast.net or at P.O. Box 851; Newport, TN 37822.
-- 30 --
Release Date: Dec 1, 2011
Column Number: FM 1148
Unless you have been living under a rock somewhere on the back side of Frogpond, Tennessee; you have probably heard of the fiasco that is currently unfolding.
“What fiasco?” you may ask. Hey, pick one! There are plenty to go around.
The fiasco I’m talking about today is the one where one person says “this” and the other person says “that”.
You knowhatimean?
The lyrics by Gershwin/Gershwin say: “you say potato, I say potahto; you say tomato, I say tomahto” (actually you may say tomato or tomaho or whatever, but I say “mater”; but that is column fodder for yet another day).
Vice President Quayle got into a heap o’ trouble when he corrected a spelling student (from the card the school had given him) who had spelled the word “potato” instead of “potatoe”. I thought it was humorous that the press agitated itself into a frenzy about that; because I had just returned from Idaho on a mission trip (you do know the starchy, tuber from the perennial Solanum of the Solanaceae family for which Idaho is famous, don’t you) and they had the word “potatoe” right on their license plates. Potato, Potahto!
We have all recently heard anxious wannabe news people standing in crowded airports and proclaiming “The Day before Thanksgiving is the busiest travel day of the year”; and then they are back on Sunday standing in crowded airports and proclaiming “The Sunday after Thanksgiving is the busiest travel day of the year”. “Tomato, tomahto”.
We have all been “treated” to the expertise of the sports commentators who proclaim that “that play was the play of the game”. “The play of the game” is coming up right here! No pressure on that place kicker; but this is the “play of the game”.
Or how about “That shot was the shot of the year”; whether it was a golf shot, a basketball shot, a mumblypeg throw, a curler’s slide, a javelin throw, a hammer hurl, a vaulter’s “stickit”, a synchronized swimmers’ design, or a shooter’s shot – it was the (whachamacalit) of the year!
Many people hung on every word that was uttered in private or in secret, in open court or in side bar, in interviews or in news releases of the “Trial of the Century” (actually mis-carriage of justice) several years ago in Los Angeles. I think the Lindberg kidnapping trial personnel might have grounds to disagree; or the Alger Hiss hearings; or the Scopes “Monkey Trial” jury; or the Teapot Dome hearings; or the Nuremberg War Crimes trials; or maybe Sacco and Vanzetti; or Michael Jackson and his doctor buddy. President Johnson’s impeachment trial, President Clinton’s impeachment hearings, and President Nixon’s impeachment votes might just be in the running.
But, the OJ fiasco was officially crowned the “trial of the century”. Potato, potahto!
Gershwin/Gershwin went on to talk about “either and ither”; “neither and nither”; pyjamas and pyjahmas”; “vanilla and vanilla”; “bananas and banahnas”; “Havana and Havahnah”. Whatever! Press “one” for English!
Now the thing is whether or not we can say “Merry Christmas”. It’s no big thing (correctly pronounced in the Frogpond Universal Dictionary – “thang”) for me. Ima Sign (our electronic sign at West End) says, “It’s Merry Christmas! You can have happy holidays anytime”.
Seems our neighbors (naighbers) can’t get it scoped in; and they are going with the more politically correct “Winterfest” (which they start before Winter). Don’t want to offend anyone, you know!
Do we have a standard? Is there anything upon which we can depend?
Yes! Glad you asked! The Bible is God’s Inerrant, Infallible Word; and is the “ONLY THING” that will stand when your world is burning down around you! Better hang your hat on that Hook, my friend.
In a world of nothing but changes; you need something upon which you can depend! The Bible, God’s Word, is a wonderful Guidebook by which you can LIVE; but It cannot be beat as a Guidebook by which you can DIE!
Christian, it’s “Game On”; Let’s get cracking”!
Tom Mooty currently serves the West End Baptist Church as Senior Pastor. He writes this column for the Thursday edition of the “Newport Plain Talk”; and appreciates all comments. He can be heard on Sundays over WLIK at 11:00; and is the published co-author (with Michele Washam) of “Protecting Those You Love in an X-Rated World” (Bridge-Logos). Mooty has plans to enlarge his ministry into further publishing and broadcasting. Contact Mooty at tommooty05@comcast.net or at P.O. Box 851; Newport, TN 37822.
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WHEN CLAUS MISSED FROGPOND
As published in the Newport (TN) Plain Talk
December 22, 2011
Column Number: FM 1151
“WHEN MR. CLAUS MISSED FROGPOND”
Sunday evenings after church at the Cracker Barrel are always interesting times. There are some things that are very predictable: my “Atkins-legal” double egg and double bacon order (yes, I’m down 35 and counting, thank you), Larry and Lisa’s unpredictable ordering (if it is his time to pay, it is water for both of them; if it is my time, it is steaks for both of them), Jack’s predictable “No thank you”, Gracie’s predictable baked potato; and – wait for it – a table visit from my long-time buds, Charles McNabb and M.E. Edwards.
By the way, my three years in “Freshman Bonehead English 101” didn’t enable me to come anywhere close to being able to outline that last sentence. Yours?
Charles is always predictably carrying on some delightful foolishment; and M.E. predictably always has some interesting tertiary tidbit to tantalize us; whether it is an old black-and-white photograph, or an “Enka” story, or maybe something from the days-gone-by in Parrotsville. (Since there had only been fourteen presidents when M.E. was in school, they weren’t too difficult to memorize).
Anyway; (or to use the most-hated word of the year – “whatever”)! Moving right along; M.E. wanted me to write a column under the title of our title today. So, I shall endeavor to endure to enact an encouraging endowment to enable you to encircle the subject.
Actually, I cannot remember a time when Santie Claws missed a landing at Frogpond International Airport – at least to at least one of my friends at least. You have to remember that that was way before GPS, “Tom-Toms” and Garmons; smart phones and most dumb phones; and 24/7 newscasts (are you kidding me: that was even before black-and-white television – and color? Forgetaboutit)!
Whether it was a pair of skates with which we could ruin the floor of Mary Mims’ basement; or a bat and ball with which we could break out the windows of any neighbor in hitting range; or a bicycle with which we could try our luck coming down Grammar School Hill or the High School “Walkway-to-Downtown” (the sudden stop at the end of both of these torture devices was generally worth a visit to Fred Marvin’s and Josephine Celeste’s first aid station (which was well stocked with a box of band aids, a little dropper bottle of Mercurochrome, and a jar of Vicks’ Salve.
“Mercurochrome”? Wonder what was in that? Looks like Mercury and Chromium to me – both of which are hazardous waste now, aren’t they? I can’t wait for a commercial from some ambulance-chasing lawyer who intones that I have been injured by prolonged use of mercurochrome; I am due a settlement of a gazillion green American dollars.
On second thought, maybe that is what happened to me! Where’s my ambulance-chaser?
You see, I was Fred and Josephine’s “baby” – translation – “youngest”. “The Big Ugly” and “The Music Man” were six and four years, respectively older than me. So Fred Marvin had to have somebody with whom to “play the game”; so I was elected. I remember I checked out my bicycle which they had hidden over at the Masters’ house across Fifth Street several days before the big day.
Fred Marvin had lung problems which led to Emphysema which led to COPD which led to Heaven; but while he was with us, he had a lot of problems breathing. One Christmas Eve, I heard him carrying my set of barbells (I think they are called free weights now) up from the basement. He was breathing so loudly, he sounded like an obscene phone call. I wanted so desperately to help him; but they loved to play the game; so who was I to spoil their fun – even though I knew, and they knew I knew; and I knew they knew I knew.
My gift was usually wrapped in the color comics section of the Sunday Newspaper. I think that was because “The Big Ugly” thought that was cute or something. Seems kind of juvenile, now that I think about it.
Whatever! It was always a fun time of the year; with lights and colors and sights and sounds; and sometimes, even a visit from Santa Claus when he could get directions to Frogpond. Remember, that was before the printing press so maps were non-existent and the Frogpond Post Office (with its zero mile marker) had burned the year before!
One Personality that was always there; but especially showed up at Christmas was The Lord Jesus Christ! He was the Object of our Church Services and Christmas Carols; and He did not need a map to find the hearts of a lot of the kids that grew up in Frogpond. It would really be interesting to know just how many of those kids accepted Jesus Christ as personal Savior while a resident of Frogpond, Tennessee.
So, to be politically incorrect for the umpteenth time – Merry Christmas, everyone – or Merry CHRISTmas! (It IS named for Him, you know!)
Tom Mooty currently serves the West End Baptist Church as Senior Pastor; and writes this column for the Thursday edition of the “Newport (TN) Plain Talk”. Mooty appreciates all your comments (especially the good ones). He is a published author and can be contacted at tommooty05@comcast.net or at P.O. Box 851; Newport, TN 37822.
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December 22, 2011
Column Number: FM 1151
“WHEN MR. CLAUS MISSED FROGPOND”
Sunday evenings after church at the Cracker Barrel are always interesting times. There are some things that are very predictable: my “Atkins-legal” double egg and double bacon order (yes, I’m down 35 and counting, thank you), Larry and Lisa’s unpredictable ordering (if it is his time to pay, it is water for both of them; if it is my time, it is steaks for both of them), Jack’s predictable “No thank you”, Gracie’s predictable baked potato; and – wait for it – a table visit from my long-time buds, Charles McNabb and M.E. Edwards.
By the way, my three years in “Freshman Bonehead English 101” didn’t enable me to come anywhere close to being able to outline that last sentence. Yours?
Charles is always predictably carrying on some delightful foolishment; and M.E. predictably always has some interesting tertiary tidbit to tantalize us; whether it is an old black-and-white photograph, or an “Enka” story, or maybe something from the days-gone-by in Parrotsville. (Since there had only been fourteen presidents when M.E. was in school, they weren’t too difficult to memorize).
Anyway; (or to use the most-hated word of the year – “whatever”)! Moving right along; M.E. wanted me to write a column under the title of our title today. So, I shall endeavor to endure to enact an encouraging endowment to enable you to encircle the subject.
Actually, I cannot remember a time when Santie Claws missed a landing at Frogpond International Airport – at least to at least one of my friends at least. You have to remember that that was way before GPS, “Tom-Toms” and Garmons; smart phones and most dumb phones; and 24/7 newscasts (are you kidding me: that was even before black-and-white television – and color? Forgetaboutit)!
Whether it was a pair of skates with which we could ruin the floor of Mary Mims’ basement; or a bat and ball with which we could break out the windows of any neighbor in hitting range; or a bicycle with which we could try our luck coming down Grammar School Hill or the High School “Walkway-to-Downtown” (the sudden stop at the end of both of these torture devices was generally worth a visit to Fred Marvin’s and Josephine Celeste’s first aid station (which was well stocked with a box of band aids, a little dropper bottle of Mercurochrome, and a jar of Vicks’ Salve.
“Mercurochrome”? Wonder what was in that? Looks like Mercury and Chromium to me – both of which are hazardous waste now, aren’t they? I can’t wait for a commercial from some ambulance-chasing lawyer who intones that I have been injured by prolonged use of mercurochrome; I am due a settlement of a gazillion green American dollars.
On second thought, maybe that is what happened to me! Where’s my ambulance-chaser?
You see, I was Fred and Josephine’s “baby” – translation – “youngest”. “The Big Ugly” and “The Music Man” were six and four years, respectively older than me. So Fred Marvin had to have somebody with whom to “play the game”; so I was elected. I remember I checked out my bicycle which they had hidden over at the Masters’ house across Fifth Street several days before the big day.
Fred Marvin had lung problems which led to Emphysema which led to COPD which led to Heaven; but while he was with us, he had a lot of problems breathing. One Christmas Eve, I heard him carrying my set of barbells (I think they are called free weights now) up from the basement. He was breathing so loudly, he sounded like an obscene phone call. I wanted so desperately to help him; but they loved to play the game; so who was I to spoil their fun – even though I knew, and they knew I knew; and I knew they knew I knew.
My gift was usually wrapped in the color comics section of the Sunday Newspaper. I think that was because “The Big Ugly” thought that was cute or something. Seems kind of juvenile, now that I think about it.
Whatever! It was always a fun time of the year; with lights and colors and sights and sounds; and sometimes, even a visit from Santa Claus when he could get directions to Frogpond. Remember, that was before the printing press so maps were non-existent and the Frogpond Post Office (with its zero mile marker) had burned the year before!
One Personality that was always there; but especially showed up at Christmas was The Lord Jesus Christ! He was the Object of our Church Services and Christmas Carols; and He did not need a map to find the hearts of a lot of the kids that grew up in Frogpond. It would really be interesting to know just how many of those kids accepted Jesus Christ as personal Savior while a resident of Frogpond, Tennessee.
So, to be politically incorrect for the umpteenth time – Merry Christmas, everyone – or Merry CHRISTmas! (It IS named for Him, you know!)
Tom Mooty currently serves the West End Baptist Church as Senior Pastor; and writes this column for the Thursday edition of the “Newport (TN) Plain Talk”. Mooty appreciates all your comments (especially the good ones). He is a published author and can be contacted at tommooty05@comcast.net or at P.O. Box 851; Newport, TN 37822.
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Thursday, December 1, 2011
"THE SAUSAGE GRINDER"
As published in the Newport (TN) Plain Talk
Nov 24, 2011
Column Number: FM 1147
Unless you have been living under a rock somewhere on the back side of Frogpond, Tennessee; you have probably heard of the fiasco that is currently unfolding in Washington DC.
“What fiasco?” you may ask. Hey, pick one! There are plenty to go around.
Someone said that Congress is just like sausage: It might look ok until you see what is in it; and how it is made!
Is there anyone out there in Fiveminuteville that really thought that “super committee” was going to succeed? I mean, really, now; did you think they could put aside all the “sausage ingredients” long enough to do what was genuinely correct for “we the people”?
It’s really sad that a few good men and women who might be populating the hallowed halls of “our” government buildings are grouped in with all the “sausage ingredients” that insist that somehow they have a “mandate” to bilk and milk “we the people” for every last penny so they can send it to someone who does not like us, and will turn against us in a heartbeat. Or maybe they use my money to buy another vote by building another bridge to nowhere.
Sad? That word doesn’t cover it; not at all!
And then, there is that silly television commercial that has been running for years. You know the one!
It features that combination lawyer-watchdog who glibly intones that if I have years of unfiled tax returns lying around, he will take care of that for me.
Notice that phrase please; “unfiled tax returns”; and not just one; no, years of them!
That guy is supposed to be able to “take care of that for me”. Years of unfiled tax returns! Gimme a break!
Best thing to do is just gather up all those unfiled tax returns to make them filed tax returns – or go somewhere where they have more simple tax laws. You know; the ultra short form – the post card!
It reads like this: Question: “What is your income?” Directive: “Send it in!” Comment: “We will put it in our sausage grinder and send it to our “sausage ingredients” to spend it on bigger and better “sausage grinders” than you!”.
I hope all these supposed new Internal Revenue Agents that are supposed to be hired to keep up with all the supposed simpler rules and regulations (which have not yet been written) of the new health care rules and regulations – whew! - I hope they will write letters to that guy who is hawking his “expert” services to all who have years of unfiled tax returns lying around.
Frankly, times are hard, and we cannot afford his types trying to get reductions for people who are too lazy or dishonest to file.
I got a phone call the other night – you know, one of these automated calls that told me that “my government” had made money available to reduce my house payment, and I qualified, and I should … the call ended when I hung up. I thought that stuff was one of the major ingredients of the congressional “sausage grinding”.
If I sound bitter, I assure, I am not! I love my nation; I love my country! I am so very thankful that I was fortunate to be born here in this country instead of God’s choice of 120 others. I am so very thankful that the Joseph Mooty family came to Charleston, South Carolina several hundred years ago and stood in line, signed the papers, obeyed the rules and became American citizens.
I am thankful for many things; but the biggest of them is that God has allowed me by His Grace to become one of His Children. That is really something for which a kid from Frogpond, Tennessee can thank God.
Sure, we have problems – lots of them – the big “sausage grinder” in Washington is just one of them; but we are still the greatest nation ever! God bless America; and God bless you, dear reader!
Tom Mooty serves as Senior Pastor of Newport’s West End Baptist Church; and can be reached with your comments at tommooty05@comcast. Check all of the posts on both of the blog pages; and come back - as the ole sarge used to say - "with great frequency".
-- 30 –
Nov 24, 2011
Column Number: FM 1147
Unless you have been living under a rock somewhere on the back side of Frogpond, Tennessee; you have probably heard of the fiasco that is currently unfolding in Washington DC.
“What fiasco?” you may ask. Hey, pick one! There are plenty to go around.
Someone said that Congress is just like sausage: It might look ok until you see what is in it; and how it is made!
Is there anyone out there in Fiveminuteville that really thought that “super committee” was going to succeed? I mean, really, now; did you think they could put aside all the “sausage ingredients” long enough to do what was genuinely correct for “we the people”?
It’s really sad that a few good men and women who might be populating the hallowed halls of “our” government buildings are grouped in with all the “sausage ingredients” that insist that somehow they have a “mandate” to bilk and milk “we the people” for every last penny so they can send it to someone who does not like us, and will turn against us in a heartbeat. Or maybe they use my money to buy another vote by building another bridge to nowhere.
Sad? That word doesn’t cover it; not at all!
And then, there is that silly television commercial that has been running for years. You know the one!
It features that combination lawyer-watchdog who glibly intones that if I have years of unfiled tax returns lying around, he will take care of that for me.
Notice that phrase please; “unfiled tax returns”; and not just one; no, years of them!
That guy is supposed to be able to “take care of that for me”. Years of unfiled tax returns! Gimme a break!
Best thing to do is just gather up all those unfiled tax returns to make them filed tax returns – or go somewhere where they have more simple tax laws. You know; the ultra short form – the post card!
It reads like this: Question: “What is your income?” Directive: “Send it in!” Comment: “We will put it in our sausage grinder and send it to our “sausage ingredients” to spend it on bigger and better “sausage grinders” than you!”.
I hope all these supposed new Internal Revenue Agents that are supposed to be hired to keep up with all the supposed simpler rules and regulations (which have not yet been written) of the new health care rules and regulations – whew! - I hope they will write letters to that guy who is hawking his “expert” services to all who have years of unfiled tax returns lying around.
Frankly, times are hard, and we cannot afford his types trying to get reductions for people who are too lazy or dishonest to file.
I got a phone call the other night – you know, one of these automated calls that told me that “my government” had made money available to reduce my house payment, and I qualified, and I should … the call ended when I hung up. I thought that stuff was one of the major ingredients of the congressional “sausage grinding”.
If I sound bitter, I assure, I am not! I love my nation; I love my country! I am so very thankful that I was fortunate to be born here in this country instead of God’s choice of 120 others. I am so very thankful that the Joseph Mooty family came to Charleston, South Carolina several hundred years ago and stood in line, signed the papers, obeyed the rules and became American citizens.
I am thankful for many things; but the biggest of them is that God has allowed me by His Grace to become one of His Children. That is really something for which a kid from Frogpond, Tennessee can thank God.
Sure, we have problems – lots of them – the big “sausage grinder” in Washington is just one of them; but we are still the greatest nation ever! God bless America; and God bless you, dear reader!
Tom Mooty serves as Senior Pastor of Newport’s West End Baptist Church; and can be reached with your comments at tommooty05@comcast. Check all of the posts on both of the blog pages; and come back - as the ole sarge used to say - "with great frequency".
-- 30 –
"FIZEU"
As published in the Newport (TN) Plain Talk
Nov 3, 2011
Column Number: FM 1144
Ok, don’t hit me again! I’ll talk! I’ll tell you what that title means!
Actually, the sample is taken from an extremely complex extinct language. It is an original manuscript of an ancient dialect which was spoken by the inhabitants of Frogpond, Tennessee. The priceless document was discovered by an archeological dig being operated by ex-mayor, Lester Starnes at the actual site of the actual frogpond.
It appears to be coupled with a particle or word fragment that is found in several different spellings, the most frequent being: “ID” or “AHD”.
“Fizeu id” makes no sense at all; but of course, it fit in very nicely among the indigenous population of Frogpond.
Noted linguist, Gary Hammonds, who has the distinction of being the very first doctoral candidate from Frogpond University gave me a lot of help in deciphering the cryptic scribbling. Dr. Hammonds, whose doctoral thesis was entitled, “I don’t nohow to talk too purty good” actually remembered frequently hearing the mysterious words being used in conversations on the whittlin’ benches around the Frogpond Courthouse; and was able to come up with a translation.
Hammonds remembered the phrase was used thusly: “Fizeu ahd do hit thisaway”; and was able to translate the ancient line of dialog into: “If I were you, I would do it this way”.
Viola! It now makes good sense; and archeologist Lester Starnes can now sleep at night.
There are always the delightful people who are always looking over your shoulder with groans and heavy breathing as you whittle yet another masterpiece; and they say, “Fizeu, ah’d do hit thisaway”, as they point out the way they would do it differently.
But, you know, the simple truth is that “Fizeu” is a faulty premise; you are not me; I am not you!
I have heard of identical twins taking each others’ places with tests or other various “sticky wickets” we face every day.
My Tennessee Tech roommate came to Newport one time and people mistook him for me; called him by my name. And he was not nearly as good looking as I used to be!
I have heard of people doing a thriving business filling in for students in big impersonal college classrooms, taking notes, taking tests, writing papers, etc.
But, while you might indeed be able to do a better whittling project than me; you still cannot “be” me; and I cannot “be” you.
Especially in the realm of the spiritual!
You will face the Judge of the Universe yourself; and no one can ever take your place!
The simple question is, are you ready to face Him?
Tom Mooty serves as Senior Pastor (Medicare Minister) of Newport’s West End Baptist Church; and can be reached with your comments at tommooty05@comcast.net. Check back to our two blogs frequently; who knows; you might happen to find something new! (Who knew?)
-- 30 –
Nov 3, 2011
Column Number: FM 1144
Ok, don’t hit me again! I’ll talk! I’ll tell you what that title means!
Actually, the sample is taken from an extremely complex extinct language. It is an original manuscript of an ancient dialect which was spoken by the inhabitants of Frogpond, Tennessee. The priceless document was discovered by an archeological dig being operated by ex-mayor, Lester Starnes at the actual site of the actual frogpond.
It appears to be coupled with a particle or word fragment that is found in several different spellings, the most frequent being: “ID” or “AHD”.
“Fizeu id” makes no sense at all; but of course, it fit in very nicely among the indigenous population of Frogpond.
Noted linguist, Gary Hammonds, who has the distinction of being the very first doctoral candidate from Frogpond University gave me a lot of help in deciphering the cryptic scribbling. Dr. Hammonds, whose doctoral thesis was entitled, “I don’t nohow to talk too purty good” actually remembered frequently hearing the mysterious words being used in conversations on the whittlin’ benches around the Frogpond Courthouse; and was able to come up with a translation.
Hammonds remembered the phrase was used thusly: “Fizeu ahd do hit thisaway”; and was able to translate the ancient line of dialog into: “If I were you, I would do it this way”.
Viola! It now makes good sense; and archeologist Lester Starnes can now sleep at night.
There are always the delightful people who are always looking over your shoulder with groans and heavy breathing as you whittle yet another masterpiece; and they say, “Fizeu, ah’d do hit thisaway”, as they point out the way they would do it differently.
But, you know, the simple truth is that “Fizeu” is a faulty premise; you are not me; I am not you!
I have heard of identical twins taking each others’ places with tests or other various “sticky wickets” we face every day.
My Tennessee Tech roommate came to Newport one time and people mistook him for me; called him by my name. And he was not nearly as good looking as I used to be!
I have heard of people doing a thriving business filling in for students in big impersonal college classrooms, taking notes, taking tests, writing papers, etc.
But, while you might indeed be able to do a better whittling project than me; you still cannot “be” me; and I cannot “be” you.
Especially in the realm of the spiritual!
You will face the Judge of the Universe yourself; and no one can ever take your place!
The simple question is, are you ready to face Him?
Tom Mooty serves as Senior Pastor (Medicare Minister) of Newport’s West End Baptist Church; and can be reached with your comments at tommooty05@comcast.net. Check back to our two blogs frequently; who knows; you might happen to find something new! (Who knew?)
-- 30 –
Tuesday, November 22, 2011
ANOTHER CASE OF MISPLACED PRIORITIES
Published in the "Newport (TN) Plain Talk"
Release Date: Nov 17, 2011
Column Number: FM 1146
Unless you have been living under a rock somewhere on the back side of Frogpond, Tennessee; you have probably heard of the fiasco that is currently unfolding in University Park, Pennsylvania.
Yeah, you know the place; but you probably only know it as the home of Penn State University – the venerated home of the Nittany Lions and their venerated – almost granted sainthood – coach, “Joe Pa”.
Thousands of Penn State students hit the streets on Wednesday night – doing their thing – over turning cars (why do mobs always feel they have to overturn cars and destroy private and public property?), chanting Joe Pa’s name, and selling “Support Coach Paterno” wristbands. It has been reported by Wayne Allyn Root that these were not hoodlums; these were “educated, middle class, salt-of-the-earth Pennsylvania college kids attending a well-respected university”.
Yes, I believe in the legal precept that a person is innocent until proven guilty; and I have no knowledge of whether or not the “incidents” actually happened – but it seems to be a foregone fact that “Joe Pa” did nothing to find out either – and he could have stopped it!
Of course, you will hear and read of former athletes from Penn State making their statements in support of “Coach Joe Pa”. After all, wasn’t he a winner? Didn’t he put Penn State on the map with multitudes of years of – what? What did he do? Oh yes, he was a winning football coach; and therefore, all is forgiven!
To someone’s credit, the riots on the streets on Wednesday were followed by candles on the campus on Friday – as the alleged victims – the little boys who were allegedly assaulted by a longtime assistant coach were remembered. One can only hope that the second group who found their way on Friday night was composed of many of the same students who had lost their minds on Wednesday night.
From all I know; from all I have heard; from all I have read, Coach Joe Paterno is a man who spent a lifetime molding the lives of young men at Penn State University. But now; all that is being said about the winningest coach in college football is that he didn’t lift a finger to help the little boys (other than reporting the incident to his like-wise-do-nothing superiors); then apparently never mentioning it again.
Hey! It’s football! And what is more important than that? Of course, a couple of years ago, lots of people were holding Miley Cyrus up as a role model for young girls. It would be a major big time bummer if (perish the thought) personalities like Coaches Bobby Bowden or Pat Summit or Quarterback Tim Tebow fall by the wayside like so many others who have influenced so many thousands of followers. Let’s join in prayer for these “lightning rods”.
I love the commercial that sometimes runs during football games (yes, I do get to watch some of them) where the tag line is that most of the students at (whatever) University will turn “pro” in some other field than athletics.
I have felt the exact same way in the past when the exact same “sweep-under-the-carpet” procedure was used by priests, bishops, and cardinals of the Roman Catholic Church; or the financial evidence of extravagant lifestyles of televangelists; or the reckless abuses of power of those in government; but in each case, apparently none of these people who had the authority to call a screeching halt to what was going on, called a screeching halt to what was going on.
I wonder if any of these people who could have stopped this, stopped to think, “What if that little ten-year old boy was my ten-year old boy?”
Have we lost our minds? We certainly have lost our way!
Frankly, we better get our priorities back in line with those of Almighty God; if we ever expect Almighty God to pay attention to our cries for help when we find ourselves being overwhelmed by evil forces – like all those numerous little boys must have felt.
Where have all the role models for our little ten-year old kids gone? Obviously those students on Wednesday night were following the examples of what they see on MTV or Beavis and Butthead or the Kardashians or whatever! Come on Christian, let’s give our ten-year kids something to imitate, an example to follow – and know that if they do; they will be on the right path to eternity!
Because that is exactly the path we are all on – eternity!
Tom Mooty serves as Senior Pastor of Newport’s West End Baptist Church; and can be reached with your comments at tommooty05@comcast. See the church website at www.webaptistchurch.org.
-- 30 –
Release Date: Nov 17, 2011
Column Number: FM 1146
Unless you have been living under a rock somewhere on the back side of Frogpond, Tennessee; you have probably heard of the fiasco that is currently unfolding in University Park, Pennsylvania.
Yeah, you know the place; but you probably only know it as the home of Penn State University – the venerated home of the Nittany Lions and their venerated – almost granted sainthood – coach, “Joe Pa”.
Thousands of Penn State students hit the streets on Wednesday night – doing their thing – over turning cars (why do mobs always feel they have to overturn cars and destroy private and public property?), chanting Joe Pa’s name, and selling “Support Coach Paterno” wristbands. It has been reported by Wayne Allyn Root that these were not hoodlums; these were “educated, middle class, salt-of-the-earth Pennsylvania college kids attending a well-respected university”.
Yes, I believe in the legal precept that a person is innocent until proven guilty; and I have no knowledge of whether or not the “incidents” actually happened – but it seems to be a foregone fact that “Joe Pa” did nothing to find out either – and he could have stopped it!
Of course, you will hear and read of former athletes from Penn State making their statements in support of “Coach Joe Pa”. After all, wasn’t he a winner? Didn’t he put Penn State on the map with multitudes of years of – what? What did he do? Oh yes, he was a winning football coach; and therefore, all is forgiven!
To someone’s credit, the riots on the streets on Wednesday were followed by candles on the campus on Friday – as the alleged victims – the little boys who were allegedly assaulted by a longtime assistant coach were remembered. One can only hope that the second group who found their way on Friday night was composed of many of the same students who had lost their minds on Wednesday night.
From all I know; from all I have heard; from all I have read, Coach Joe Paterno is a man who spent a lifetime molding the lives of young men at Penn State University. But now; all that is being said about the winningest coach in college football is that he didn’t lift a finger to help the little boys (other than reporting the incident to his like-wise-do-nothing superiors); then apparently never mentioning it again.
Hey! It’s football! And what is more important than that? Of course, a couple of years ago, lots of people were holding Miley Cyrus up as a role model for young girls. It would be a major big time bummer if (perish the thought) personalities like Coaches Bobby Bowden or Pat Summit or Quarterback Tim Tebow fall by the wayside like so many others who have influenced so many thousands of followers. Let’s join in prayer for these “lightning rods”.
I love the commercial that sometimes runs during football games (yes, I do get to watch some of them) where the tag line is that most of the students at (whatever) University will turn “pro” in some other field than athletics.
I have felt the exact same way in the past when the exact same “sweep-under-the-carpet” procedure was used by priests, bishops, and cardinals of the Roman Catholic Church; or the financial evidence of extravagant lifestyles of televangelists; or the reckless abuses of power of those in government; but in each case, apparently none of these people who had the authority to call a screeching halt to what was going on, called a screeching halt to what was going on.
I wonder if any of these people who could have stopped this, stopped to think, “What if that little ten-year old boy was my ten-year old boy?”
Have we lost our minds? We certainly have lost our way!
Frankly, we better get our priorities back in line with those of Almighty God; if we ever expect Almighty God to pay attention to our cries for help when we find ourselves being overwhelmed by evil forces – like all those numerous little boys must have felt.
Where have all the role models for our little ten-year old kids gone? Obviously those students on Wednesday night were following the examples of what they see on MTV or Beavis and Butthead or the Kardashians or whatever! Come on Christian, let’s give our ten-year kids something to imitate, an example to follow – and know that if they do; they will be on the right path to eternity!
Because that is exactly the path we are all on – eternity!
Tom Mooty serves as Senior Pastor of Newport’s West End Baptist Church; and can be reached with your comments at tommooty05@comcast. See the church website at www.webaptistchurch.org.
-- 30 –
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