Gummi Road Kill

Kraft halts production of contoversial roadkill-shaped candy
By CHRIS NEWMARKER


TRENTON, N.J. (AP) - Production of candy shaped like roadkill has come to a screeching halt. The decision, announced Friday by Kraft Foods Inc., was the result of an outcry by New Jersey animal rights activists who said the candy encouraged children to be cruel to animals.
"We take comments from our consumers really seriously and, in hindsight, we understand that this product could be misunderstood," said Kraft spokesman Larry Baumann.

That's just a brief snipit from a report the Associated Press delivered yesterday (click on the title of this entry to read the entire story). My question is this, who is standing up for Gummi rights? One of the core precepts in the land of Gummi is to enjoy the freedom to be shaped into whatever form you choose (or is deemed profitable). Apparently Kraft Foods Inc. must have spines made of Gummi if they would back down that easily on such an important issue.

In a similar vein, wouldn't it be a good thing for animals to know that we're making fun of them for always getting run over? Is it just possible that they might realize that it's not a good idea to keep running across the street? Maybe we should occassionally throw a piece of Gummi Road Kill out our car windows as sort of a warning symbol to the animal kingdom, (ie. "If you cross this road, you'll become this.")

I would like to dedicate this blog entry to Paul Cronenwett for once helping me scoop a dead squirrel that I had run over into a garbage bag. I'll post the details of that story tomorrow, unless Paul or the New Jersey animal rights activists find a way to shut me down.

Hairlines

For most men, a normal and expected part of aging is the fact that our hairlines begin to recede. I know an older man who once commented that he noticed that a scar on his forehead had moved downward toward his eyes. After a second look, he realized that the scar stayed in place, but his hairline had moved back considerably.

Well, I think I have found the exception to the typical hairline rule. Judge Andrew P. Napolitano, a regular commentator and host on the Fox News Channel, has a hairline that appears to be going in the other direction. Instead of receding, it seems that with time, his hairline is inching closer and closer to his nose.

I have been watching Fox News for several years now, and I have witnessed this gradual progression of Judge Napolitano's hair. I imagine that within a few years, he is going to have to part a crease in his hair over each eye just so he can see in front of him.

In the spirit of Mr. Napolitano's hairline, I have decided to challenge you, loyal readers of "Stump the Pastor" to find me a picture of someone with a hairline that begins even further down their face than his. I don't know if what I'm asking is even possible, but for curiosity's sake, I thought I would ask and see what you came up with.

He will be waking up soon

About two hours ago, I finished clearing my driveway of several inches of heavy wet snow. Overall, this winter has been mild, so I'm not going to complain (even though both my snow blower and I are looking forward to Spring).

Still, there is one downfall I can think of that will naturally come with the onset of Spring. Last Fall, a large bear started visiting my house every evening to tear apart my garbage. Some times, he would come as early as 9:00pm.

I came face to face with him once as I tried to retrieve a bag that he dragged into the woods across the street. Fortunately, I was armed with a pocket flashlight and a broom handle. He was smart enough not to try anything stupid (and I was smart enough to scurry back into my house and hide).

Somewhere, sleeping in the woods behind my house, is a large bear who has endured this winter on a belly-full of my garbage. Soon, he will be waking only to bring his wrath back to my garbage cans. This year, I'll be ready.

In case you're wondering, the pictures are shots of his muddy footprints on my driveway.

Name that Miata

Exactly one week ago from this moment, I sat at this computer and poured through AutoTrader listings, looking at Mazda Miatas. I have been searching for an older vehicle that could serve as a good commuter car, with the hopes that it would save me some "cheddar" at the gas pump. I was also hoping to find something that would, at the same time, be enjoyable to drive.

I have always liked Mazda Miatas, so I wondered if I could find an older one in my price range. I called about one I found near Philly. It had already sold. So I looked some more and found a nice one with relatively low miles, but it was located in Baltimore, MD. Well.....I took a drive down to MD on Wednesday evening, test-drove the car for a few blocks, and bought it.

There are a few things I need (or should I say "want") to do to it before I'll be satisfied, but I've got to say, what a fun car. I'm in the process of trying to pick out a nick-name for it, as if it was a new baby. No ideas yet. Post your ideas for a name, I'd love to hear them. (Although I should tell you that it is a guarantee that every name that is posted will not be used).

I imagine that a sporty red Mazda Miata is not the typical vehicle that you would expect a Conservative Evangelical pastor to ride around in, but I'd like to suggest several reasons why every pastor of the same social and theological persuasion as myself should get one.

1. I had a quarter-tank of gas, so I filled it today. It took 6.9 gallons.
2. It's fun to make busy-bodies think you won the lottery (even though it's an inexpensive 15 year old car).
3. The trunk is just big enough to hold 120 copies of Sunday's bulletin.
4. It irritates legalists to know that the speedometer reads up to 140 (exactly 75 mph over Pennsylvania's speed limit)
5. You get ticketed when you use the clergy parking space at the hospital because no one believes that a "real" pastor would drive one of these.

Sink and swim

Last time, I promised that I would tell you about a prank I pulled on my mother a little more than ten years ago.

During a college break, I travelled home to visit my family. It had been a while since I had visited, so I wanted to make my presence known in a memorable way. My mother worked at a nursing care facility all night, from 11pm - 7am. Our front door entered the kitchen of our home, and typically, my mother would do something that involved using the sink soon after she arrived home.

I had the idea that it would be fun to place a rubber band around the handle to the sink sprayer so that it would remain in the on position. Then I aimed it toward the front/center of the sink where you would typically stand.

Soon after returning from work, my mother walked toward the sink, turned it on, and was completely soaked. She couldn't figure out what was going on as water began spraying all over her. It was classic. The best part of it all was the fact that she didn't remember that I was home visiting and she instantly woke my sisters with her screaming.

I still feel that is one of the best ways to start the day.

Water

When you get tired, do you find yourself strangely tempted to do something off the wall and completely out of the norm?

This evening, after a busy Sunday, my wife, my sister and I were sitting around my kitchen table enjoying a nice coversation. I was drinking a bottle of spring water and commented to my wife, "I have this strange urge to dump this water on you." I teased her with that thought for a few minutes and finally, once she had huddled into a ball, I tossed the cap, full of water, toward her. Unfortunately, the water spilled from the cap before it reached her. So I pretended to pick the cap up and as I knelt down, I "accidentally" spilled water on her.

Then I looked toward my sister and spit a mouthful of water in her direction. She returned the favor by filling a cup and dumping it on my head. I then chased her through my living room with the bottle of spring water and dumped it down her back.

Now my carpet is wet and I'm walking around barefoot because my socks were absorbing too much moisture.

Tomorrow, I'll be letting you know about a prank involving water that I pulled on my mother back when I was in college. You'll have to try it and let me know if you get the same result. Make sure you tell your unsuspecting victim that, "Pastor John gave me the idea."

Seven Places

Last night, I was driving in my truck alone, trying to decide what to listen to. I tried talk radio first, but discovered that the regular program was pre-empted to cover Penn State basketball. They do that too much.

So I plugged in my ipod and began scanning the selections. Lots of good things to choose from, yet nothing was satisfying my desire to sing loudly and pretend I was playing both guitar and drums while I drove.

At that point, I reverted to my recent favorite album. I bought Seven Places, "Hear Us Say Jesus" back in November and at first, I was disappointed in it because it didn't sound enough like their first album "Lonely for the Last Time." But by the third time I listened to it, I realized I had purchased an album that I would probably listen to for the rest of my life.

If I had to give you one album recommendation, this would be it. The lyrics are spiritually encouraging and thoughtful. The choruses are energetic and fun to sing along. The music makes me want to drive too quickly and drum dents into my steering wheel. All that way around, it is by far one of the best albums I have ever heard. And I'm not making that assertion lightly.

I have decided that I am going to try to contact Seven Places to see if they would grant me a five minute interview that I can post here on "Stump the Pastor." I would really love to talk to them and learn a little more about what goes into the crafting of their songs.

On another note, while I was singing "Even When," song 3 on the album, Matt Macking called my cell phone and interrupted my singing. It took me two songs to get back into the groove again, but the remainder of my one man concert (hosted in the world's best venue, my Toyota Tacoma), proceeded without any further interruption.

One cingular lie

It's been a little while since I have posted any of my original poetry. Below is a selection I drafted this evening to summarize the day's events.

One Cingular Lie

O Cingular, you lied to me
And told me that your plan
Would cost as much as AT&T
Switch now while you still can

More minutes they promised, and rollover too
Plus a camera-phone that's practically free
Then while I wasn't looking
They reached in my coat
And pilfered my wallet from me

I confirmed that my plan wouldn't cost any more
Than my current plan forced me to pay
They said that's correct, just sign here in blood
As my freedom dripped fastly away

When reviewing their site after shaking their hand
I noticed the fine printed star
My new plan would cost me ten dollars more
Plus my birthright and both of my cars

Prepare for war, O Cingular
Your system is in for a shock
I'm calling my landline each evening at 9
And not hanging up 'till 6 o'clock

I'll use each free minute accorded to me
I'll tie-up your network each day
You lied to me once, now I feel like I'm stuck
But it's you Cingular who will pay

Spring countdown

After a few weeks of bitter cold temperatures (and one frozen pipe in my office that burst and filled the room with several inches of water), I have come to the point where I am itching for the arrival of Spring. It was 52 degrees today, which isn't typical for early February in Pennsylvania. The foot of snow that covered my front yard has completely melted, thus proving to me that I really did once have grass.

I want to drive with my windows down. I want to plant a row of pine trees on my property line. I want to play basketball. I want to wait in line to buy an Italian Water Ice at Josie's. I want to feel motivated to accomplish more in the course of a day than successfully updating my blog.

When Spring arrives, my body and mind revives.

Only two months of winter weather until this season is done. I'm just going to hide under my desk until then. Please don't disturb me unless Josie's opens or another pipe breaks.

President Tilden

I am in the process of reading an interesting book on the American Presidency. It's about 1000 pages long, but I haven't succeeded in putting it down yet.

The story of Samuel J. Tilden amazes me. Many people don't realize it, but he was the man who was actually elected president in 1876. Here's how it all went down....

Samuel J. Tilden
From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia.

Samuel Jones Tilden (February 9, 1814 - August 4, 1886) was the Democratic candidate for the US presidency in the disputed election of 1876, the most controversial American election of the 19th century.

When two sets of returns were sent to Washington from the states of Florida, Louisiana, South Carolina and Oregon, the two houses of Congress agreed to the appointment of an extra-constitutional body, the Electoral Commission. Though Tilden appears to have won the popular vote, there were enough Commission votes from the Republican-controlled states in the Reconstruction South to throw the election into the United States House of Representatives. The House awarded the presidency to Rutherford B. Hayes after he promised to end Reconstruction.

What this article didn't tell you is that the Electoral Commission was made up of 15 people, (5 Democrats from the House, 5 Republicans from the Senate, 3 Republicans and 2 Democrats from the Surpreme Court). The whole thing was a setup and the Commission knew they were going to choose Rutherford B. Hayes even before they met. Hayes himself did not expect to become president (he was an honest man). But 56 hours before the inauguration, Congress certified Hayes as the winner and he became the next president.

I admire Rutherford B. Hayes for many reasons, but Samuel J. Tilden was RIPPED OFF!

Comb please

What would you say if this guy asked to borrow your brush?