The Corny Things We Used To Say As Kids.....

I'm a child of the 60's.

I come from a simpler, more innocent era (sort-of).

Anyway, I'm not quite sure how it came to be,

but when I was a kid in school (elementary through 'junior high'),

We had these sayings that everyone just seemed to know.

How that was, I couldn't exactly tell ya. But we all KNEW 'em!

Like some mysterious unwritten language, these phrases rolled off the tongue of every 5^th grader as though they'd somehow been meticulously taught and rehearsed.

(Certainly, if we'd been taught these things in an actual class and been held responsible for remembering them, we never would have.

Nonetheless, these expressions survived, transcending race, class, and even geography.

(I grew up in Los Angeles; My girl's from Ohio, and we both remembers the same sayings, as though they somehow traveled from kid to kid, across the continent!)

What sayings am I talking about?

Well, let's see….where should I start?

If someone was mad at you, they wouldn't say f--- you, they'd say "forGET you"!

And your response was something like…

"Forget you,

ForGOT you,

Never thought ABOUT you,

Gimmie a piece of paper, and I'll write all about you!"

Or the other version:

"Forget you,

ForGOT you,

Never thought ABOUT you,

Last time I saw you

Was when the Boogie Man shot you!"

Or how about

"I hate to be mean,

But you need Listerine,

Not a sip,

Not a swallow,

But the whole dang bottle!!!"

Or….

Teacher teacher, I declare

I see someone's underwear!

I see London,

I see France,

I see someone's underpants!

If someone said, "SO WHAT!"

The response was,

"So! So! Suck your toe

All the way to Mexico!"

And the very THOUGHT that someone might actually SAY a BAD WORD was enough to crack us up…

Miss Lucy had a tugboat

The tugboat had a bell

Miss Lucy went to heaven

But the tugboat went to HELL-O Operator, give me number 9

And if the line is busy, show me your be-HIND the refrigerator

There was a piece of glass

My sister sat right on it,

and it stuck her in the ASk me no more questions

Tell me no more lies…..(etc….you get the picture)

Girls playing patty-cake or jumping rope?

Aw, they had a whole DIFFERENT set of chants!

Like:

Eenie meenie sicileenie ooh ahh combaleenie

ochie cochie liverochi

C-O-D
Take a peach, take a plum, take a stick of bubblegum
No peach, no plum, just a stick of bubblegum….

And

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....! (this one even had its own MELODY!)

Or if we had to choose who would go first, or who would be 'IT' in a game, 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…

Eeenie meenie miney moe.
Catch a tiger (or something else, depending on the neighborhood!) by the toe

If he hollers, let him go

Eeenie meenie miney moe.

My mother told me to pick the very best ONE!

Or…

Engine engine number nine

Going down Chicago Line

If the train should jump the track

Do you want your money back?

Y-E-S spells yes, and you IT.

Or

N-O spells no, and you are not it!

And finally, from UrbanDictionary.com:

Moded:

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.

It is also most appropriately used during a battle of insults when someone offers a better retort to someone's initial attack.

A word used to put someone in their place after they've been proved wrong.

1st guy:"Look at that tight Lexus rolling down the street"
2nd guy:"You're stupid! That's a BMW"
3rd guy to 1st guy:"Ohh you just got moded!!!"

Ahhhh….

Those were the days!

So do you remember any of these?

Are there some I've left out? (you KNOW there are!!! C'mon…..help a bruthah out!)

My First Car!

A friend at work recently purchased a new car.
Before too long, we were all engrossed in conversation, with everyone talking about their very first car.


Your first car is something special, something you never forget. And everyone's story about their first automobile is almost always unique and interesting.


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 jealous, but that just never made a whole lot of sense to me. And in retrospect, it seems like having a brand new car as a first car would've taken away some of the fun and adventure of the whole experience.


My first car: The 1974 Ford Mustang V6.

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!





It sounds pretty cool, having a Mustang as your first car.

And it was.

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 goofiest-looking Mustangs ever made! (C'mon, just look at this thing!!!)




I think even Ford was hesitant to honor this car with the legendary name, because it was officially called "The Mustang II".






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 rollin' in style!






Jeez, I must've spent a fortune on Armor-All, trying to keep all that vinyl from oxydizing! (Whose idea was it to put vinyl on the roof of a car anyway???)


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!



If you were really cool, you had the Cobra model with the sport package or the removable top!






But....I wasn't that cool.









But I fitted my ride with the best am/fm cassette stereo I could afford (which, of course I installed myself), hung my Class of 1980 tassle on the mirror, and I was truly a force to be reckoned with!




My road song was The Wanderer by Donna Summers. And rightly so, because this car and I went everywhere!




Back then, gas was still under $1.00/gallon...


...So there was little stopping me from answering whenever the road called.




It wasn't incredibly fast, but it was my freedom. And I loved it.


Unfortunately, my little road warrior gradually became less and less able to overcome the fact that it was, indeed, well...a Ford. And it began to succumb to numerous mechanical problems.




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 anytime, anywhere, 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!!!




Even after replacing the module, the car continued to suffer from one mechanical ailment after another.







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.

...and bought what?



Another Ford!


...A 1979 Mercury Capri!



(Some guys just never learn! )


But that's a story for another time.



Anyway, thank you for taking this walk down Memory Lane with me.


I'd love to know:

1. What was YOUR first car?

2. What was your FAVORITE car?

3. What was the WORST CAR YOU EVER OWNED?




Let me hear YOUR story!




-Marvin

WHY SO LOUD??? Struggling To Understand The Pentecostal Experience

WHY SO LOUD???
STRUGGLING TO UNDERSTAND THE PENTECOSTAL EXPERIENCE



I am a born-again Christian.

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”.



Merriam-Webster’s online dictionary defines it this way:


1Pen·te·cos·tal

Pronunciation:

..ˌpen-ti-ˈkäs-təl, -ˈkȯs-..

Function:

adjective

Date:

circa 1663

1 : of, relating to, or suggesting Pentecost

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.





I considered this description to be fairly consistent with what I’ve been taught, and consistent with my belief system.

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.

The worship music is wonderful, and I appreciate the sermons which focus on God’s Word.

What I don’t yet understand is the delivery.

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.



So, my question is quite simple: “Why so loud”?



Would worship be less robust at a lower volume? Would God’s Word be any less powerful?



I’ve given this issue a lot of thought.



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.



Why so loud?



I recognize the fact that we as humans need some type of outlet.

Perhaps this is similar to ‘primal scream therapy’? I don’t know.

( 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 )

Is this what people feel they need after a hard week? Could there be a better way?



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.



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?



Why so loud?



(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.)



Likewise, pastors encourage members of the congregation to shout in order to get their breakthrough.

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.



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.



My physical dilemma, however, is at least as great a challenge as the spiritual.



I happen to be a sound man. I make my living adjusting audio levels; sensing, discerning, and adjusting sound. Perception is key.

I am also a musician. My abilities to distinguish one tone from another and to identify the individual notes in a chord are critical.

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”?



I recognize that there is a cultural dynamic in operation here, which is much, much bigger than I am.

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.



But I am hoping that someone, somewhere can please help me understand….why so loud?