notinKansasanymore

John Schoenheit is one of the finest and most honest people I've ever met in my life. Or will ever meet.

That's a great idea! Isn't Fastbuck in Texas? Maybe we could get someone to influence a guest appearance. We have to gather our sheep.

After my HQ Chevy Citation finally died, I bought a brand-new, manual-transmission Saturn SL; it was a 1992. I drove it for 10 years, with no major problems. It was reliable, economical on gas, and cute; I have to say that I am a Nazi about getting regular oil changes; even old clunkers generally last pretty well for me, just for that reason, so I was certainly careful with this one, which was my first brand-new car. The only problem was that the seat cushion that one sits upon was sewn in such a way that the seams hit me funny; my hips used to get sore from sitting in it for a long time. When I married, my husband was too tall to fit into the vehicle, and had to scrunch down in order to see clearly; this led to a sore back when we'd take the car on long trips. Since he is only 6'2", this seems like inattentive design. Some mechanics, even GM ones, didn't have parts for it, and wouldn't even touch it; if you don't live near a Saturn dealer, you may have trouble with that. Most oil change places are just fine with it, though. This may have changed in the past 8 years; it seems to be a pretty major drawback, and I can't imagine GM letting that situation go for very long. The month that our family increased to being one more individual than the Saturn would seat, we sold it to a high school kid, who drove it pretty aggressively; the transmission promptly fell out. That's all I have to say about that. My in-laws have driven Tauruses forever; a new one when the old one is about to die. They buy them from Enterprise rent-a-car, because they've been maintained, and there are service records. If I were in the market for a car, I'd definitely check that source. Good luck with your new car.

Rocky, is it okay that we post to ourselves, so long as we don't answer ourselves? But if we're all of the one body, does that mean that we've been answering ourselves for all of these pages? I need the rivers of my understanding to flow together. Please ortho-tomountia my nous. There are two more weeks of class. I'm grading piles and stacks of stuff. Office hours are overflowing. Doesn't sound much like it, but this is the fun time. Simon, you are too quiet. Lurkers, the smoking lamp is lit. Bless Patrol, if you're reading this, you're one lucky duck. I'm going to stop and fold laundry now; I know that you really wanted to know that . . .. We need a reunion. Somewhere that has sunshine, waves, decent Mexican food, and a dance floor. Or maybe, just . . . where ever they'll have us. Every summer, we say that we need a reunion, but we never have one. Dare you.

Whoa there, Fellowshipper! That's a bit more . . . Southern . . . approach than I had in mind. I mean no disrespect to Southerners; you know that I have not a single Yankee in my own heritage . . . Ah, Tom Strange-in-a-nice-way-not-a-weird-way, point taken. Have you guys ever heard that song about a broken road? The chorus has a line: "God bless the broken road that led me straight to you." That's how I feel about the convoluted journey of years and events that brought mr.Nika across my path. It couldn't have been written in a book; nobody would have believed it. But somehow, hearts find a way.

I don't think Slavit made it all the way through his list, because he never asked me out to anything. I'd remember, seeing as I had a rather large crush on the fellow while we were in residence. It was the brain, and the tallness, and the quirkyness. It wasn't just Gene; I was interested in a few of the brainy ones. With my history, it's really no wonder at all that I'm married to a tall, dark, handsome Chemistry professor, who's a bit on the eccentric side! "Eccentric" is a compliment, right?

There I was, on the back of my hooch, and that snake was standing there. And as the hooch began to pull out of the station, the snake said, I believe in your gorp, but I do not believe in your Jesus! And the one-eyed snake reached out his hand (which was really a neat trick) and the last thing I saw as that hooch pulled out of the station was the snake, with both hands filled with gorp high above his head, praising. And the snow began to fall, so thickly that I could not see the gas pumps at the station. So I went back into my hooch, and bundled up, and slept for three days and three nights, whereupon the Lead twigleader came to bring me back to the real world. Lead was a rather idyllic respite from being in residence; I really liked it.

Ex70's, Congratulations! I knew that you reminded me of my brother. He is also a shooter; he likes the NRA target pistol events. Has some of those weird-handled things that look like Aliens have landed. The first time he ever met my husband, even though Mr.niKa and I were already married, my brother made it a point to show off his guns. It was a pure Texas moment. My brother also lived in the Houson area for a time; I'll bet that you knew one another. Again, congratulations. Few people realize how time consuming and expensive a hobby that really is; it takes commitment on a few different levels. Well Done!

Separate cars? It all depends upon where you put the comma. If you separate those cars in the wrong way, you get a whole different meaning. Back in the day, we didn't get to ride in fancy-schmancy cars. "Here's $20. Pick your hitching partners. Your objective: a yellow schoolbus in Tinnie, New Mexico." ("But, George, how will we find one school bus in a whole town?") "Don't worry; the school bus is BIGGER than the whole town!" We hitch-hiked UPHILL, BOTH WAYS, and we LIKED it. What was wrong with us?

Let's have a dance! We need Gene Slavit to spin some records. Does Dana still have his "condemnation" costume? (like we'll ever let him forget THAT one) We need Harvey on the guitar, and Cathey and Adrianne on vocals. Me, I'll just do a little Johnny B. Goode, and then sit back for some retemories and a cup of coffee - just the bottom half. Share amongst yourselves, unless you haven't yet taught your tree. I have to get back to grading papers - there's no rest for the wicked.

Hey, I may root for Oklahoma, but I still have to stand up for Oklahoma State. Craig played Elsewhere. Kansas State? And for the record, I agree with Kit. As long as there is life, there is hope. Heck, there's probably even still hope for . . . me.

Karie! Welcome! We knew one another well; I might have even ironed your wedding dress. There were a few of us who weren't getting hitched that day, who went to Top Floor Wierwille to put finishing touches on things. I have often wondered how you and Chuck were doing, and hoped for the best. It's great to hear that you're still happily married. You have a blog? I have to investigate. Welcome, welcome! The first round of ice cream with popcorn on top is on me! love, nika

But Fellowshipper, it's not NOW where you are. It's tomorrow. So, if you are all gone tomorrow, where the heck are you today?

I was marked, but not avoided, by VPW himself once, because of clothing. It seems now to be only a preview of what TWI 2 had in store for folks. When I was on staff, I was in the Word Over The World Auditorium Choir. In addition to spending part of every Sunday getting my hair done up like a Lawrence Welk singer on acid, and putting on a live-to-tape television program, we spent one or two evenings each week in rehearsal. During one of these rehearsals, when the auditorium was still smelling of brand-new carpet and paint, VPW came to sit in the middle of the auditorium and watch our rehearsal. He was making comments, and generally giving advice; he had a microphone. I was wearing a new pair of nice purple pants; they were not a bright purple; they were more of a plum color. I was standing on the back row of women, because I'm tall. The women in front of me must have shifted, or something, because all of a sudden, over the loud speakers, comes VPW's gravelly voice: "You. In the back. Purple pants." I was stunned that he had singled me out. So was everybody else; you could have heard a pin drop. The women in front of me shifted a little more, so that he could see me clearly. They were very courteous. "Yes, sir?" I replied. "Are those new pants?" he asked. "Yes, sir." "Those are the ugliest pants I've ever seen in my life." Talk about total silence. I turned, I'm sure, three kinds of red. Then, he went back to business, as though he hadn't just done something unutterably rude. We all went back to rehearsing. I just wanted to die. Did I answer that he was rude? Uncaring? Or use more colorful language than my pants? No, of course not. He was the man of God. There must be something devilish about my pants. Know what? Nobody else said one word about it, either. Not one person said, "that was really mean of him." Nobody mentioned it at all. It was as though everybody pretended it had never happened. He was a mean, crotchety old man who ran roughshod over people, hated women, and enjoyed the superiority that he felt when he made other people uncomfortable. I never wore those new pants again. OF COURSE people in TWI confront one another over wearing old shoes. Look at their example! A corrupt tree cannot bear good fruit.

It is possible to be BOTh courageous AND on a fruitless endeavor. Just ask any of us who have been there. No matter how devoted these kids are, they're not going to be able to fix TWI. A much better use of their time (not to mention their youth) would be for them to go to a REAL SEMINARY somewhere, and learn to be REAL PASTORS and MINISTERS, and lead real churches. Any capitals are used for emphasis, and not to indicate that I'm shouting. I'm not shouting. But speaking as someone who gave my youth to TWI, I hope that they don't make the same mistake. Corps - if you're reading this thread, learn from our mistakes. Our mistake was in trusting TWI with OUR LIVES. You only get one time around; make some real difference with it. That's not going to be with TWI.

We're all gone now.

Eagle, thanks! Two posters actually sent me Doug's e-mail, and I've sent him a message.

Oh, dang. Just when I've donated my Klingon Verb Conjugator to Goodwill. Happy Friday, folks.

Every few years, I look up and - dang - realize I've lost track of that boy again. Anybody got a line on him? Thanks. Don't bother with Google; tried it.

I'm not even going to touch the "midnight" line. I'm just imagining sand between my toes, and warm sunshine. mr.niKa FINALLY returned yesterday, from two weeks doing science in New Zealand. Things are much easier in the niKa household today.

Oh, Tommy - the sacrifices you make for your sister in Christ! The sea breeze, the sound of the waves; you're so thoughtful. Rocky, you were very nice to try to talk me through that horrible mess. I'm having a Girl Scout cookie in both your honors. Caramel Delight. love, niKa

Rats with wings - do you mean pidgeons? I can hear the surf vicariously through you, Tommy - turn it up - -

Ah - I love weather reports! You're the sweetest, Rocky. New day, fresh perspective, it's Tuesday, so this must be Oklahoma. Good day, everyone. There's a songbird outside, right now. Don't have any mockingbirds yet, but I love those. Maybe they're still in Florida, or wherever smart birds go.

Sorry, folks. Been a bit now, I've got my head more on my shoulders. If there was anything to be done about it, that would be different, but there's not. I can practically feel the prayers, reaching to calm. Those of you who read the posts and prayed, thank you very much; it helped a lot. Please continue to pray for the mom and the dad, and the grandma, the great-uncle who feels like a grandpa, and me, I'm the great-aunt. So, that sweet little lamb. May she rest in peace.

I need to be able to love more. I can love the baby, and the little mamma, and I've never even met either of them; they're far away, and I didn't go for the baby's birth. The thought of this nephew, whom I last saw at my father's wake, who amid the hushed, loving voices of my elderly aunts and uncles and my grieving mother, was loudly bragging about the glories of his most recent bar fight, and I just can't finish this sentence to make any sense. I need to be able to reach over this revulsion to be able to pray for him, too. Okay, that's maybe too much to share. Rocky and Tommy, thank you. Let's talk about the weather, or something. A pair of woodpeckers was checking out nesting sites in my yard today. Also robins and cardinals. The trees are budding. Her name was Lilly. She had dark hair.