tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-80385188469818852022024-02-21T00:16:57.595-08:00Marvin's WorldMarvinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18084905495310217833noreply@blogger.comBlogger3125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8038518846981885202.post-11009865148870200452010-01-14T10:03:00.000-08:002010-01-14T10:05:35.298-08:00The Corny Things We Used To Say As Kids.....<p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt">I'm a child of the 60's.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt">I come from a simpler, more innocent era (sort-of).</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><img src="http://www.unicef.org.uk/donate/images/981084F.jpg"/></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"></p><div></div><div></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt">Anyway, I'm not quite sure how it came to be,</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt">but when I was a kid in school (elementary through 'junior high'), </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt">We had these sayings that <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal">everyone</i> just seemed to <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal">know.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></i></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><br/></span></i><div></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal">How </i>that was, I couldn't exactly tell ya.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>But we all KNEW 'em!</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><img src="http://freepages.genealogy.rootsweb.com/~elkridge/Grow_up_files/69%20hopscotch%203.JPG"/></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"></p><div></div><div></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt">Like some mysterious unwritten language, these phrases rolled off the tongue of every 5<sup>th</sup> grader as though they'd somehow been meticulously taught and rehearsed.<br/></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"></p><div></div><div></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt">(Certainly, if we'd been taught these things in an actual <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal">class</i> and been held responsible for <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal">remembering</i> them, we<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal"><u> never</u></i> would have.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"><img src="http://www.yorku.ca/human/csp/images/children-playing.jpg"/></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"></p><div></div><div></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt">Nonetheless, these expressions survived, transcending race, class, and even geography.</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"></p><div></div><div></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt">(I grew up in Los Angeles; My girl's from <place></place><state></state>Ohio, and we<i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal"> both</i> remembers the same sayings, as though they somehow traveled from kid to kid, across the continent!)</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"></p><div></div><div></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><img src="http://www.loc.gov/exhibits/young/images/y45-03c22105r.jpg"/></p><div></div><div></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"></p><div></div><div></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt">What sayings am I talking about?<br/></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt">Well, let's see….where should I start?<br/></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"></p><div></div><div></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"></p><div></div><div></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt">If someone was mad at you, they wouldn't say f--- you, they'd say "forGET you"!<br/></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt">And your response was something like…</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal">"Forget you,</b><div></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal">ForGOT you,</b><div></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal">Never thought ABOUT you,</b><div></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal">Gimmie a piece of paper, and I'll write all about you!"<br/></b><div></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"></p><div></div><div></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt">Or the other version:<br/></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal">"Forget you,</b><div></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal">ForGOT you,</b><div></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal">Never thought ABOUT you,</b><div></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal">Last time I saw you </b><div></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal">Was when the Boogie Man shot you!"</b><div></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"></p><div></div><div></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"></p><div></div><div></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><br/>Or how about</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"></p><div></div><div></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal">"I hate to be mean, </b><div></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal">But you need Listerine,</b><div></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><div></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal">Not a sip,</b><div></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal">Not a swallow,</b><div></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><div></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal">But the whole dang bottle!!!"</b><div></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"></p><div></div><div></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"></p><div></div><div></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><br/>Or….</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal">Teacher teacher, I declare</b><div></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal">I see someone's underwear!</b><div></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal">I see <city></city><place></place>London, </b><div></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal">I see <country-region></country-region><place></place>France,</b><div></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal">I see someone's underpants!</b><div></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"></p><div></div><div></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"></p><div></div><div></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><br/><br/>If someone said, "SO WHAT!"</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal">The response was, </b><div></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal">"So! So! Suck your toe</b><div></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal">All the way to <country-region></country-region><place></place>Mexico!"</b><div></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"></p><div></div><div></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"></p><div></div><div></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><br/><br/><br/>And the very THOUGHT that someone might actually SAY a BAD WORD was enough to crack us up…</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"></p><div></div><div></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal">Miss Lucy had a tugboat</b><div></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal">The tugboat had a bell</b><div></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal">Miss Lucy went to heaven</b><div></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal">But the tugboat went to HELL-O Operator, give me number 9</b><div></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal">And if the line is busy, show me your be-HIND the refrigerator</b><div></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal">There was a piece of glass</b><div></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal">My sister sat right on it, </b><div></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal">and it stuck her in the ASk me no more questions</b><div></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal">Tell me no more lies…</b>..(etc….you get the picture) </p><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"></p><div></div><div></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"></p><div></div><div></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><br/><br/><br/>Girls playing patty-cake or jumping rope?</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt">Aw, they had a whole DIFFERENT set of chants!</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"></p><div></div><div></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><br/>Like:</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"></p><div></div><div></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><strong>Eenie meenie sicileenie ooh ahh combaleenie </strong></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><strong>ochie cochie liverochi </strong></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><strong>C-O-D<br/>Take a peach, take a plum, take a stick of bubblegum<br/>No peach, no plum, just a stick of bubblegum….<br/></strong></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"></p><div></div><div></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt">And</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"></p><div></div><div></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><b>Say, Say oh playmate... come out and play with me. and bring your dollies 3, climb up my apple tree... slide down my rainbow... into my cellar door... and we'll be jolly friends for ever more...ore...ore....!</b> (this one even had its own MELODY!)<br/><br/></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"></p><div></div><div></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"></p><div></div><div></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt">Or if we had to choose who would go first, or who would be 'IT' in a game,<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>we'd all stand in a tight circle, put our feet together, and we'd do the "eenie-meenie-miney-moe" thing. Which also had some different versions, like…</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"></p><div></div><div></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><br/><strong>Eeenie meenie miney moe.<br/>Catch a tiger</strong> (or something <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal">else, </i>depending on the neighborhood!) by the toe</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><strong>If he hollers, let him go</strong></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><strong>Eeenie meenie miney moe.</strong></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><strong>My mother told me to pick the very best ONE!</strong></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"></p><div></div><div></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt">Or…</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><strong>Engine engine number nine</strong></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><strong>Going down Chicago Line</strong></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><strong>If the train should jump the track</strong></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><strong>Do you want your money back?</strong></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><strong>Y-E-S spells yes, and you IT.</strong></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><strong>Or</strong></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><strong>N-O spells no, and you are not it!<br/><br/></strong></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"></p><div></div><div></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"></p><div></div><div></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt">And finally, from UrbanDictionary.com:</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"></p><div></div><div></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"><strong>Moded:</strong></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"></p><div></div><div></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 3pt 0in 6pt"><font size="undefined" style="FONT-SIZE: 8.5pt; FONT-FAMILY: Verdana"><em>This word is most appropriately used when someone is proven wrong in an embarrassing manner. It is not simply a matter of making a mistake, or being embarrassed, but is most properly used when someone has vehemently defended a position and been proven wrong.<br/><br/>It is also most appropriately used during a battle of insults when someone offers a better retort to someone's initial attack. </em></font><div></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 3pt 0in 6pt"><div></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 3pt 0in 6pt"><font size="undefined" style="FONT-SIZE: 8.5pt; FONT-FAMILY: Verdana"><em>A word used to put someone in their place after they've been proved wrong</em>.</font><div></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 3pt 0in 6pt"><i><font size="undefined" style="FONT-SIZE: 8.5pt; FONT-FAMILY: Verdana">1st guy:"Look at that tight Lexus rolling down the street"<br/>2nd guy:"You're stupid! That's a BMW"<br/>3rd guy to 1st guy:"Ohh you just got moded!!!"</font></i><div></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"></p><div></div><div></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"></p><div></div><div></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"></p><div></div><div></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt">Ahhhh….</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt">Those were the days!</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt"></p><div></div><div></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt">So do you remember any of these?</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="MARGIN: 0in 0in 0pt">Are there some I've left out?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> (you KNOW there are!!! </span>C'mon…..help a bruthah out!) <img src="http://x.myspace.com/images/blog/smileys/thankful.gif"/><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span></p></p><div></div></p><div></div></p><div></div><em></em></p><div></div></p><div></div></p><div></div></p><div></div></p><div></div></p><div></div></p><div></div></p><div></div></p><div></div></p><div></div></p><div></div></p><div></div></p><div></div></p><div></div></p><div></div></p><div></div></p><div></div></p><div></div></p><div></div></p><div></div></p><div></div></p><div></div></p><div></div></p><div></div></p><div></div></p><div></div></p><div></div></p><div></div></p><div></div></p><div></div></p><div></div></p><div></div></p><div></div></p><div></div>Marvinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18084905495310217833noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8038518846981885202.post-28949190943154284162010-01-14T09:55:00.000-08:002010-01-14T09:57:58.248-08:00My First Car!<font face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" size="4">A friend at work recently purchased a new car. </font><br/><font face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" size="4">Before too long, we were all engrossed in conversation, with everyone talking about their very first car.</font><font face="Arial" size="4"></font><font face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" size="4"><br/><br/><br/>Your first car is something special, something you never forget. And everyone's story about their first automobile is almost always unique and interesting. <br/><br/><br/>When I was in high school, I had a few friends whose parents bought them brand new cars even before they had their drivers' licenses. Perhaps I was a little bit <em>jealous,</em> but that just never made a whole lot of sense to me. And in retrospect, it seems like having a <em>brand new</em> car as a first car would've taken away some of the fun and adventure of the whole experience.<br/><br/><br/>My first car: The <font size="6">1974 Ford Mustang V6.</font><font size="6"></font><br/><br/>It cost $1,400.00 in the year 1980, and I couldn't have been happier! There are few bonds more powerful than that between a teen and their first automobile!<br/> <br/><br/><br/><br/> <br/>It sounds pretty cool, having a Mustang as your first car. <br/><br/>And it was. <br/><br/>But the first thing you need to understand about the evolution of the Ford Mustang, is that the models from 1974 to 1978 were probably the <em><strong>goofiest-looking</strong></em> Mustangs ever <em>made!</em> (C'mon, just <em>look</em> at this thing!!!)</font><font face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" size="4"><br/><br/><img src="http://static.howstuffworks.com/gif/1974-1975-1976-1977-1978-ford-mustang-13.jpg"/><br/> <br/><br/>I think even <em>Ford</em> was hesitant to honor this car with the legendary name, because it was officially called "The Mustang II".<br/><br/><br/><img src="http://static.howstuffworks.com/gif/1974-1975-1976-1977-1978-ford-mustang-16.jpg"/><br/><br/><br/> <br/>A true departure from its earlier incarnations, the Mustang II was more like a Pinto...or a Maverick than any of its high-performance predecessors. Mine had a blue vinyl top. I later had a sunroof installed...yep, I was <em>rollin' in style!</em> <img src="http://x.myspace.com/images/blog/smileys/giggly.gif"/><br/> <br/><br/> <br/><img src="http://z.about.com/d/mustangs/1/0/r/0/-/-/1974FordMustang-c.jpg"/><br/><br/> <br/>Jeez, I must've spent a<em> fortune</em> on Armor-All, trying to keep all that vinyl from oxydizing! (<em>Whose idea was it to put vinyl on the roof of a car anyway???)</em><br/> <br/><br/>And no mag wheels for me! No, sir! I flaunted those ever-stylish fake wire-spoke hubcaps with the authentic Ford logo in the center!<br/><br/><img src="http://www.gasolinealleyantiques.com/transportation/images/Automobilia%20Page/cat-76mustang.jpg"/><br/><br/>If you were <em><u>really </u></em>cool, you had the <em>Cobra </em>model with the <em>sport package</em> or the <em>removable top!</em><br/><a target="_blank" href="http://www.msplinks.com/MDFodHRwOi8vd3d3LmFtYXpvbi5jb20vZ3AvcmVkaXJlY3QuaHRtbC9yZWY9Y21fcGxvZ19pdGVtX2xpbms/aWU9VVRGOCZsb2NhdGlvbj1odHRwJTNBJTJGJTJGd3d3Lm56bXVzdGFuZy5jb20lMkZCdXlzZWxsJTJGMzY3LTAxLmpwZyZ0b2tlbj0zRDAzM0M0QjAwOUZGM0ZDNDJCMDdBQTAxQzNDNjhEMEU5QjlDQjkz"><img src="http://www.nzmustang.com/Buysell/367-01.jpg" align="right"/></a><br/> <br/><a target="_blank" href="http://www.msplinks.com/MDFodHRwOi8vd3d3LmFtYXpvbi5jb20vZ3AvcmVkaXJlY3QuaHRtbC9yZWY9Y21fcGxvZ19pdGVtX2xpbms/aWU9VVRGOCZsb2NhdGlvbj1odHRwJTNBJTJGJTJGd3d3Lm56bXVzdGFuZy5jb20lMkZCdXlzZWxsJTJGMzY3LTAxLmpwZyZ0b2tlbj0zRDAzM0M0QjAwOUZGM0ZDNDJCMDdBQTAxQzNDNjhEMEU5QjlDQjkz"></a> <br/> <br/><a target="_blank" href="http://www.msplinks.com/MDFodHRwOi8vd3d3LmFtYXpvbi5jb20vZ3AvcmVkaXJlY3QuaHRtbC9yZWY9Y21fcGxvZ19pdGVtX2xpbms/aWU9VVRGOCZsb2NhdGlvbj1odHRwJTNBJTJGJTJGd3d3Lm56bXVzdGFuZy5jb20lMkZCdXlzZWxsJTJGMzY3LTAxLmpwZyZ0b2tlbj0zRDAzM0M0QjAwOUZGM0ZDNDJCMDdBQTAxQzNDNjhEMEU5QjlDQjkz"></a> <br/> <br/>But....I wasn't that cool.<br/> <br/> <br/> <br/> <br/> <br/> <br/> <br/><img src="http://static.howstuffworks.com/gif/1974-1975-1976-1977-1978-ford-mustang-14.jpg"/><br/> <br/>But I fitted my ride with the best am/fm cassette stereo I could afford (which, of course I installed myself), hung my <em>Class of 1980</em> tassle on the mirror, and I was truly a force to be reckoned with! <br/> <br/><img height="171" width="361" src="http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3023/2895984309_d46c6dd752.jpg"/><br/><br/><br/>My road song was<em> <strong>The Wanderer</strong></em> by Donna Summers. And rightly so, because this car and I went <em>everywhere! <br/></em><img height="393" width="389" src="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/128/338569701_dcb7ce1ff6.jpg"/><br/><br/> <br/> <br/>Back then, gas was still under $1.00/gallon...<br/><img src="http://whereisbarney.com/tabloid_nuke_tour/cheap_gas_1.jpg"/><br/><br/>...So there was little stopping me from <em>answering</em> whenever the road called.<br/> <br/><br/><br/> <br/>It wasn't incredibly fast, but it was my <u><em>freedom</em></u>. And I loved it.<br/> <br/></font><br/><font face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" size="4">Unfortunately, my little road warrior gradually became less and less able to overcome the fact that it was, indeed, well...<em>a Ford. </em> And it began to succumb to numerous mechanical problems.<br/> <br/><img src="http://www.motorcitystreetrodders.net/images/tiredcar.gif"/><br/> <br/><br/>The most interesting of these was an issue with the onboard computer module (back then they called it the "brain box"), which caused the engine to completely shut off <em>anytime, anywhere,</em> with absolutely no warning whatsoever. At 65mph on the freeway, the engine suddenly dies and with it go the power steering and power brakes! Yikes!!!<br/> <br/><a href="http://www.msplinks.com/MDFodHRwOi8vYXV0by5ob3dzdHVmZndvcmtzLmNvbS9icmFrZS1waWN0dXJlcy5odG0="><img height="259" width="400" src="http://static.howstuffworks.com/gif/brakes-stopped-working-1.jpg" alt="Stop sign, brakes" class="article" style="WIDTH: 232px; HEIGHT: 130px"/></a><br/><br/></font><br/><font face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" size="4">Even after replacing the module, the car continued to suffer from one mechanical ailment after another. </font><font face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" size="4"><br/><br/> <br/><img height="196" width="239" src="http://farm1.static.flickr.com/3/6337138_75fbd69e15.jpg"/><br/><br/> <br/> <br/><br/>After no small amount of time spent under the hood, several episodes of getting stranded, and many opportunities to 'get out and push', I finally sold my little Mustang.</font><br/><font face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" size="4"></font> <br/><font face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" size="4">...and bought what? </font><br/><font face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" size="4"></font> <br/><font face="Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif" size="4"> <br/><br/>Another Ford! <br/><br/> <br/>...A 1979 <em><strong>Mercury Capri!</strong></em><br/> <br/> <br/><img height="562" width="724" src="http://www.ascmclarencoupe.com/Literature/DealerOnly/1979CapriPhotoRelease.jpg" style="WIDTH: 472px; HEIGHT: 385px"/><br/>(Some guys just never learn! ) <img src="http://x.myspace.com/images/blog/smileys/intimidated.gif"/><br/> <br/><br/>But that's a story for another time. <br/> <br/><br/> <br/>Anyway, thank you for taking this walk down Memory Lane with me. <br/><br/> <br/>I'd love to know:<br/><br/>1. What was YOUR first car?<br/><br/>2. What was your FAVORITE car?<br/><br/>3. What was the WORST CAR YOU EVER OWNED?<br/> <br/> <br/><br/> <br/> Let me hear YOUR story!<br/> <br/><br/> <br/> <br/>-Marvin</font>Marvinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18084905495310217833noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8038518846981885202.post-24562095198818653872010-01-14T09:49:00.000-08:002010-01-14T09:54:40.369-08:00WHY SO LOUD??? Struggling To Understand The Pentecostal ExperienceWHY SO LOUD???<br />STRUGGLING TO UNDERSTAND THE PENTECOSTAL EXPERIENCE<br /><br /><br /><br />I am a born-again Christian.<br /><br />I received Christ in a fellowship of believers commonly categorized as “Charismatic”. This was also where I received The Holy Spirit and was introduced to speaking in tongues. For this reason, I’ve always considered myself (and my first church) to be “Pentecostal”.<br /><br /><br /><br />Merriam-Webster’s online dictionary defines it this way:<br /><br /><br />1Pen·te·cos·tal<br /><br />Pronunciation:<br /><br />..ˌpen-ti-ˈkäs-təl, -ˈkȯs-..<br /><br />Function:<br /><br />adjective<br /><br />Date:<br /><br />circa 1663<br /><br />1 : of, relating to, or suggesting Pentecost<br /><br />2 : of, relating to, or constituting any of various Christian religious bodies that emphasize individual experiences of grace, spiritual gifts (as glossolalia and faith healing), expressive worship, and evangelism.<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><br />I considered this description to be fairly consistent with what I’ve been taught, and consistent with my belief system.<br /><br />So I was in for a serious shock when I began visiting fellowships of the ‘Church Of God In Christ’ denomination, where I was exposed to an altogether different Pentecostal experience.<br /><br />The worship music is wonderful, and I appreciate the sermons which focus on God’s Word.<br /><br />What I don’t yet understand is the delivery.<br /><br />For some reason, there seems to be a perceived connection between high energy, holiness, and high volume. Please understand: I appreciate high energy. But the kind of high volume I’m talking about is piercing, painfully overdriven sound. The kind of sound that leaves your ears ringing 45 minutes after you’ve left the church. This is not an exaggeration; This is absolute fact.<br /><br /><br /><br />So, my question is quite simple: “Why so loud”?<br /><br /><br /><br />Would worship be less robust at a lower volume? Would God’s Word be any less powerful?<br /><br /><br /><br />I’ve given this issue a lot of thought.<br /><br /><br /><br />In all honesty, I find the extreme high volume and shouting to be a huge distraction. As I try to focus on worshipping, singing, listening to the message, and seeking the spiritual connection that I need, my connection is suddenly shattered, as if someone just fired a shotgun in a library. Like a jolt to my system, the over-the-top intensity rips my attention away from where I know it should be. By the time church service is over, my hearing is noticeably compromised, and I'm homeward bound with a splitting headache.<br /><br /><br /><br />Why so loud?<br /><br /><br /><br />I recognize the fact that we as humans need some type of outlet.<br /><br />Perhaps this is similar to ‘primal scream therapy’? I don’t know.<br /><br />( psychotherapy in which the patient recalls and reenacts a particularly disturbing past experience usually occurring early in life and expresses normally repressed anger or frustration especially through spontaneous and unrestrained screams, hysteria, or violence —called also primal therapy )<br /><br />Is this what people feel they need after a hard week? Could there be a better way?<br /><br /><br /><br />I’ve often heard the argument that, “We partied loud and hard when we were in the world, so we should be just as enthusiastic when we’re praising The Lord.” I love worshipping The Lord just as much as anyone, but I was never much of a partier, so it’s difficult for me to relate to this analogy.<br /><br /><br /><br />I suppose I’m just naturally a low-key person. And as such, I don’t understand why a sermon should be screamed at believers. I can “get it” just as easily if someone speaks to me in a normal tone of voice. Why do you have to yell at me to get your point across?<br /><br /><br /><br />Why so loud?<br /><br /><br /><br />(It may be my personal internal defense mechanism, but I find that I can only tolerate a screaming pastor for a short amount of time. After that, I automatically tune out what he’s saying.)<br /><br /><br /><br />Likewise, pastors encourage members of the congregation to shout in order to get their breakthrough.<br /><br />Is this scriptural? Is it genuine? Is it merely emotionalism? Please understand: I have neither the right, nor the intention to judge one way or another. I simply want to understand.<br /><br /><br /><br />Lately, when I’m on my way to church, I find myself praying for greater discernment. I pray for God to open my eyes and help me to see what He wants me to see. I ask Him to help me to ‘rightly divide’ it all; to receive what He wants me to receive, and to leave the rest (in case I encounter anything that is not of Him). I ask Him to help me to stay focused, and not allow anything to remove me from His presence, even for a moment. This is my spiritual quest.<br /><br /><br /><br />My physical dilemma, however, is at least as great a challenge as the spiritual.<br /><br /><br /><br />I happen to be a sound man. I make my living adjusting audio levels; sensing, discerning, and adjusting sound. Perception is key.<br /><br />I am also a musician. My abilities to distinguish one tone from another and to identify the individual notes in a chord are critical.<br /><br />So I’m not quite sure what to do with the physical, irreversible damage I’m causing to my ears each time I attend a service. Should I assume that God won’t allow my hearing to be harmed? Should I wear earplugs and risk offending every member of the congregation? Should I dismiss this entire denomination as “simply not my cup of tea”?<br /><br /><br /><br />I recognize that there is a cultural dynamic in operation here, which is much, much bigger than I am.<br /><br />It was here before I was born. It’ll be here when I’m gone. The truth of the matter is: there are great multitudes of people who have absolutely no problem with churches whose sound levels rival any major airport.<br /><br /><br /><br />But I am hoping that someone, somewhere can please help me understand….why so loud?Marvinhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/18084905495310217833noreply@blogger.com0