Saul, the Yardstick That Became a Ruler

Welcome Dear Readers to this week’s edition of Gregory’s Bible Stories. Today Gregory learned about when Saul was anointed as Ruler of Israel.  Let’s listen in as Gregory tells us about the lesson.

gregorySaul, the Yardstick That Became a Ruler

Once there was a wealthy man named Kish who forgot to tie up his donkeys, and they all ran away.  So Kish sent his son Saul to find them. Saul Kished his father goodbye and set out on foot with his servant to the country of Ephraim which in those days was the donkey capital of the world.

Now, in biblical times, Saul was the sexiest man alive.  Not only was he handsome, but he was also a foot taller than everyone else in Israel.  Some biblical scholars believe his height was approximately two yardsticks tall, while other biblical scholars believe he was probably only six feet tall, while still other biblical scholars believe he was just wearing lifts. (Whatever it was, from Saul’s elevated vantage point, all he saw when he looked around was a sea of crooked yarmulkes.)

When Saul and his servant arrived at Zuph, they’d had enough of looking for donkeys.

Saul:  Let’s go back home or my father might stop worrying about donkeys and start worrying about us.

Servant:  Ha ha!  You actually made a little bit of a joke, Saul.

Saul:  What’s a joke?

Servant:  You know, it’s humor.

Saul:  You mean like body fluid humor such as blood, lymph or bile?

Servant:  No, I mean like humorous humor as in funny.  You’re a funny guy.

Saul:  Funny like I’m a clown?  Like I make you laugh? Like I’m here to amuse you?  How am I funny?  Funny how?

Servant:  No! Saul!  I guess what I meant was humor as in bile humor.  I always get those two mixed up!  Sorry Saul.

Saul:  Forget about it!  Now get over here and let me straighten up your yarmulke!

Servant:  Hey I just remembered something!

Saul:  I hope it doesn’t have anything to do with humor.

Servant:  No, there’s a seer in this town. If we give him a nickel, he can tell us where the donkeys are.

Saul:  I don’t want to give him a nickel.

Servant:  No I meant if I give him a nickel.

Saul:   Well what are we waiting for?  Let’s go!

As Saul and his servant were going up the hill to the town, they met some girls who were coming out to draw water:

Saul:  Excuse me.   Do you girls know if there’s a seer in town?

Girl #1:  A Sears?  No.  Our town’s pretty small.  We don’t even have a Walmart.

Saul:  Am I to understand that you mean you don’t have a wall around which your town is surrounded whereupon a mart lies within?

Girl: #1:  I guess.

Just then Saul and his servant ran into Samuel who was very important person in Israel, not quite a king, but way more than a mayor.  Samuel was the seer that Saul’s Servant said Saul would see (with or without six seashells by the seashore).

"Are you the seer?" "Yes, I'm the seer." "Well I'm just asking because your eyes are closed." "Yeah well at least I have eyes."
“Are you the seer?”
“Yes, I’m the seer.”
“Well I’m just asking because your eyes are closed.”
“Yeah well at least I have eyes.”

The day before God had told him Samuel that Saul would be coming and that Samuel was to anoint Saul as the ruler of Israel. So Samuel invited Saul to a big feast in which Saul was served the best piece of meat available at that time, a leg. (This was way before animals had breasts).

When the feast was over Samuel fixed up a nice place for Saul to sleep in his guest bedroom that also doubled as his roof.  The next morning Samuel took a jar of olive oil and poured it on Saul’s head.  “The Lord anoints you as ruler of his people of Israel,”  Samuel said, and then he gave Saul a great big ol’ Kish.

Not only am I anointing you the ruler of Israel, Saul, but this will do wonders for your dandruff.”

 And there you  have it, Dear Readers, what Gregory learned in Sunday School this morning.  Please come back next week at this same to find out what Gregory learns next.

Until next time . . . I love you

My Mighty Steed’s a Centipede

Oh roll of thunder hear my cry

I just got a dirt clod in my eye

A hundred feet they beat asunder

Atop my centipede of wonder

 

Never do I turn my head

For falling off’s my biggest dread.

Not that I’d have far to fall

For a centipede’s not tall at all

 

But his feet, my dear, are a hundred numbered

Yet he never finds himself encumbered

He ties his shoes so they don’t come loose

With a slip-knot, square-knot,  half-hitch noose

 

Centipede

Until next time  . . . I love you

 

 

 

Ten Ways to Tell if You’re Overdoing Thanksgiving

Hello Dear Readers!  I love Thanksgiving!  It’s one of my favorite holidays.  Every year I cook for my family and every year I look forward to it with great pleasure.  Maybe a little too much pleasure.  That’s why I’ve come up with this list of warning signs on how to tell if you are going to overdo Thanksgiving.

How to Tell if You’re Going to Overdo Thanksgiving
Woman looking pensive with leaves on her head

You’ve replaced the phrase “I love you” with the phrase “Olive you”.

You just got back from Potato Mashing Immersion Camp.

You’ve instructed your surgeon to break ground on that new stomach addition.

Architect looking at plans
“So the way I see it, we can knock out a wall between the belly and the button, and we should have room for an entire bowl of mashed potatoes and gravy.

In preparation for the big feast, you’ve managed to diet down to a size bite.

Even if you were to carry out pi to a million decimals, all forms of pi will be polished off by Friday.

“Of course I didn’t eat all the pumpkin pie! I ‘m an apple guy.”

You’ve taken to sleeping on a pillow of mini marshmallows.

Thanks to you and your voluminous Yam Stockpile the earth will be taking 6 days longer to orbit the sun.

Earth orbiting sun
“Gosh this week is really dragging by. What day is it?”
“Yamsday.”
“Still?”

You made an appointment with your dentist to get your teeth sharpened.

Your new gravy boat sleeps six.

“Move over!”
“No you!”

Your husband, Tom, is slightly worried about you because his name is Bill.

You’ve been preheating your oven since the 4th of July.

You refuse to read, watch or listen to  anything that isn’t about Jello.

“Honey! Come quick! Look!  There’s Bigfoot!”
“Is he in the form of a Jello mold?”
“No.”
“Is he carrying Jello?”
“No.”
“Then I’m not going to look.”

And the most obvious way to tell if you’re going to overdo Thanksgiving:

Your appendix has been officially called back into active duty for the stomach reserves.

“Ten Hut!”

 

Until next time . . . Olive you

My Brain, Peanuts, Remembers: Television

Hello Dear Readers!  Welcome to this edition of My Brain, Peanuts, Remembers.

Today’s Topic:  Television

Back in the 50’s, before there was nothing  good to watch on hundreds of satellite and cable TV channels,  we had to make do with nothing good to watch on only three measly little channels, ABC, NBC and CBS.

Ah the Simple Days!

Watching TV in the 50’s couldn’t have been simpler.  First of all, there was no remote to bother with.  We never had to spend upwards of a half hour rummaging around the Naugahyde davenport cushions trying to find the remote control.

Instead, my brothers and I would spend upwards of a half hour arguing over who should change the channel because they were the closest one to the television set.

I have one vivid memory of me and my little brother, Ricky, and my older brother, Peter, plastering ourselves against the back wall of our living room, each trying to make ourselves farthest away from the TV.  I can’t even imagine how many episodes of Ruff and Ready were wasted in this way.

Changing Channels

Changing the channel in those days was pretty simple.  You simply walked over to the TV and turned the dial until it would clunkily kachunk onto either 2 (ABC), 4 (CBS) or 6 (NBC).  The dial had way more numbers on it than 2, 4 and 6.  (It might have gone up to 11 now that I think about it.)

Obviously, TV manufacturers were the visionaries of the 1950’s. They kept their eyes focused on a day in the not too distant future when there might actually be more than snow to watch on all those other channels.

50's television snow
They saw the future and it didn’t look anything like this, thank god!

But in the 50’s, because there wasn’t that much on TV and because we were all so giddy about television viewing, we were all pretty much okay with watching snow.

My grandmother, who lived way out in the country and had no cable connection or antenna reception, claimed she got channel 13.  She’d proudly turn on her TV set and turn the dial to channel 13.  There  would be nothing but snow on the screen. But if you listened closely enough, you could occasionally make out the sound of voices although it was impossible to figure out what they were saying.

I remember visiting my grandmother and sitting in front of her TV set watching the snow and listening to the random voices.  Her TV set was pretty fancy.  It was in a blond wooden cabinet that had shuttered doors.  I’d sit in front of it, watching the snow and listening for voices while my grandmother would watch from her new white Naugahyde couch while she crocheted colorful afghans (the blankets not the people). My grandmother was totally on board with mid-century decor.

The Thrill of Saturday Morning Cartoons

My brothers and I would get up at the crack of dawn on Saturday mornings to watch cartoons.  But if we were too early, we would turn on the TV and watch the snow because all the stations quit broadcasting at midnight and didn’t resume broadcasting until about 7 a.m. in the morning.

So every night at midnight, all three stations would broadcast a recording of The Star Spangled Banner and then sign off.  Everybody was a lot more patriotic in those days.

Maybe because there was a cold war going on, and you never knew if tonight would be the night that Nikita Khrushchev would get tanked up on vodka and accidentally pass out on the atomic bomb button that was aimed directly at your hometown.

It’s little wonder that TV programmers figured it was probably a good idea to send everybody off to bed with a good dose of patriotism.

Anyway, on Saturday morning, my brothers and I would watch the snow until the thrill of the test pattern came on:

IndianHeadTestPattern16x9 (1)
Not only is this impressive, did you know one of the colors is magenta?

Once the test pattern came on things really got exciting.  It meant we were almost to the beginning of actual television broadcasting and one minute closer to watching the cartoon adventures of Ruff and Ready!

The test pattern was accompanied by a long tone like you would hear during an emergency broadcast warning.  Then an announcer would come on and explain what the colors of the test pattern were.  One of the colors was magenta. Every week my brothers and I wondered what color magenta was.

MagentaIcon
Okay just googled magenta,. and even google isn’t sure what color magenta is.

Sometimes while we were waiting for the cartoons to start, my brothers would scrape the frost off the freezer box in the refrigerator and eat it like a snow cone. I never cared much for the frost on the pre-defrost-free refrigerator freezers.  I always felt it had a funny aftertaste. But my brothers seemed to enjoy it.

freezer frost
Peter and Ricky viewed this freezer frost as the snow cone half full.

Ah yes!  TV in the 50’s.  I often ask myself if there’s anything today that compares to that long-ago  thrill of hearing the theme song to Ruff and Ready while eating freezer snow cones . . . and the answer, Dear Readers, is yes . . . practically everything!

 

Until next time . . . I love you

Gregory’s Bible Stories: Naaman’s Seven Baths

Welcome Dear Readers to this week’s edition of Gregory’s Bible Stories. Today Gregory learned about a commander of the army of Syria, Naaman, who was having a little trouble with his skin.  Let’s listen in, shall we?

gregoryNaaman’s Seven Baths

One biblical day about a fifth of the way through the bible, there lived in the holy land, a man named Naaman. As the commander of the Syrian army and as a close friend of the king of Syria, Naaman had it made in the shade or would have, anyway, had there been any trees.

But there was one tiny detail that tortured Naaman day and night.  You see Naaman suffered from a horrible case of biblical dry skin , a dreaded old-testament skin condition for which there was no cure.  (This was way before hand lotion was invented.)

Naaman’s dry skin condition took its toll on his life both at home and at work. Even the simplest tasks would cause him to look down at his scaly arms and legs in despair.  Whether he was relaxing at home in his hobby room organizing his slaves by height and weightor whether he was at work slicing off heads or impaling enemies, Naaman was finding it more and more difficult to enjoy the little things in life.

Then one day Naaman brought home a cute little stray Israelite slave girl for his wife who was really into taking in stray slaves.  In fact, she was known around the neighborhood as the Crazy Slave Lady.

Anyway, one day the little slave girl told Naaman’s wife that she knew of a prophet who might be able to help Naaman with his dry skin:

Naaman’s Wife:  Norman!  Good news.  I just found out that a prophet named Elisha can cure your dry skin!

Naaman:  Honey!  My name’s not Norman, it’s Naamon!

Naaman’s Wife:  It is?

So Naaman immediately went to the king of Syria and told him the news.

Naaman:  Yeah, so I just found out that there’s a prophet in Samaria who can help me with my problem.

King of Syria:  What problem is that, Norman?  Your two left feet?

Naaman:  No not that problem.

King:  Oh you mean the problem of that strange odor that is always emanating  from your personage?   Or are you referring  your propensity to whistle off-key?

Naaman:  No, I’m talking about my dry skin problem!

King:   Gross!

Naaman:  Yeah well, all I need now is a letter from you introducing me to the king of Israel along with ten thousand pieces of gold and ten changes of fine clothes and I think we can pretty much kiss my dry skin problem goodbye.

Later that day in Israel:

Naaman:   Hello King of Israel! Here’s a letter from the King of Syria introducing me, Naaman, to you.  How do you do?

King of Israel:  Hi Norman.

Naaman:  It’s  Naaman.

King of Israel:  The letter says, Norman.

Naaman:  Whatever.  Can you cure my dry skin or not?

King of Israel: Hm. . . I’m not sure.   Listen why don’t you have a seat over there in dry skin waiting area, Norman, while I consult with my wise men on this matter of great importance. Oh and help yourself to the figs, Norm.  You don’t mind if I call you Norm, do you?

Naaman:  Sure go right ahead you stupid . . .

King of Israel:  Sorry Norm, I didn’t catch that.

Naaman:  Good figs!

The King began pondering what to do by wailing, moaning and tearing at his clothes as is the standard biblical procedure for making decisions, and finally decided to do what he always did when dealing with people with dry skin issues — send them to the prophet Elisha’s house.

When Naaman arrived, Elisha sent out his servant to deliver his usual dry skin advice:

Naaman:  Hi, I’m Naaman.  I’m here to get my dry skin cured by Elisha?

Elisha’s Servant, Gehazi:  Oh yeah, he’s been expecting you Norman.   He told me to tell you to take seven baths in the Jordan River.

Naaman:  Seven whats?

At this exact moment all of  Naaman’s servants took the opportunity to explain to Naaman not only what a bath was– but also, what it meant to brush one’s teeth (or tooth in Naaman’s case).

When Naaman was finished scrubbing up, his dry skin was completely gone!  So Elisha’s servant, Gehazi, talked Naaman into giving Elisha six thousand pieces of silver and two changes of fine clothes for the bathing suggestion — which made Elisha mad because he never charged for personal hygiene advice as he felt the fresh air it created was reward enough.

But because Gehazi took money for Elisha’s advice, Elisha punished Gahazi by giving him dry skin which Gehazi was later able to cure by cutting strips of the fine clothing he received, soaking them in ointment and wrapping them around his arms and legs — a cure for dry skin which is known today as the Gehazi Strip.

And there you have it Dear Readers, what Gregory learned in Sunday School today.  Please check back next week to find out what he will learn next.

Until next time . . . I love you

Naaman and the seven baths

A Visit From the Toaster Reviewer Gal!

Welcome Dear Readers!  Today the Toaster Reviewer Gal was kind enough to drop by the blog and leave a copy of the cover letter she wrote for a Toaster Reviewer job she is hoping to get.  Let’s take a look at it, shall we?

Position Applied for:  Toaster Reviewer 

Dear Hiring Manager:

Your posting on LinkedIn for a Professional Toaster Reviewer recently caught my eyes, perked up my ears and blew my nose (jk).   I think you will find that I am an exceptional candidate for the position of Toaster Reviewer.

While I have been temporarily out of work for the last three years (don’t ask), I have still managed to stay on top of my game in the field of toaster reviewing.

You see, I currently own and operate a Hamilton Beach SmartToast Extra-Wide Slot 2 Slice Toaster with Tongs, upon which I keep my Toaster  Reviewing skills as sharp as a butter knife by making toast each morning and recording all my thoughts and feelings about my toasting adventures in my journal entitled,  “Scraping to Desired Lightness” (which is currently making the rounds at various publishing houses on the island of Guam, btw).

As an accomplished Toaster Reviewer, many of my reviews can be found on many high-level consumer review toaster websites such as:

Google Toast (www.googletoast.com)

So You’re Going to Have a Piece of Toast (www.soyou’regoingtohaveapieceoftoast.com)

Unplug the Smoke Detectors Kids!, Mommy’s Makin’ Toast! (www.goop.com).

But my accomplishments do not end there.  I also offer exceptional attention to detail and come to the position with my private list of some of the most powerful toaster-review adjectives in the Toaster-Reviewing industry today–which I have gleaned over the course of my career as an international Professional Toaster Reviewer Career Gal!

As a Professional Toaster Reviewer Career Gal, I have written these e-books, which are, unfortunately, only available on Amazon Guam, but still!

Toaster Book one

 

Toaster Gal Book two

Toaster book 3

My accomplishments and qualifications are further detailed in my hard copy resume which is on it’s way to you via the Guam postal service.  Please disregard the burned edges, frankly the Hamilton Beach SmartToast Extra-Wide Slot 2 Slice Toaster with Tongs, still has some bugs that need working out in my professional opinion as a Professional Toaster Reviewer Gal (see above).

In closing, I am as thrilled about being a part of your Professional Toaster Reviewer team as you must be at receiving this cover letter from me.  (That’s  a Haiku, btw!)

Please contact me at my earliest convenience, and I look forward to our mutual admiration.

Sincerely,

Everybody’s Favorite Toaster Reviewer Gal!

And there you have it, Dear Readers, and I don’t know about you but I think she’s got a pretty good chance. Especially if there’s an opening in Guam!

Until next time  . . . I love you