MULTI-TASKED

This photo perfectly displays the multi-task discussion that permeates our household from time to time.

It took me years to figure out why I did not like to make the Wal-Mart run with my wife. I should have known after having shopped with her so many times. For example, when she looks for a dress, she rifles so fast through the ones hanging up that I don't know how she even tells whether she likes them or not. I've also seen her stop in the middle of a rack and change course and feel the material in a blouse on another rack ninety degrees away.

So that's what she would do to me at Wal-Mart. I'd be concentrating on finding my Shave Secret shaving oil while she'd spin me around to ask if I wanted Dry Idea or Degree deodorant. She also never considered that there are other shoppers. And they are also armed with carts. End result: dizziness, for me. By the way, I'm not multi-tasked. Never was. Or if I was, it was solely one directional.

So how does she explain her multi-tasking? In her job she dealt with a farm, a newspaper, a golf course, residential and apartment houses, an oil company, an oil-related company, a hotel, a restaurant, a bank, et.al. I know I'm forgetting some others. Her point is that when she picked up the phone, she didn't know which area she would be forced to address. And I'm not talking about just answering the phone and re-directing the problem: for the most part, for many years she had to solve the problem. Plus, when she got home, she had kids and a single-tasked husband to attend to. No wonder she's enjoying retirement.

While she still juggles the multiplicity of various tasks, I'm still single (some would say simple) minded. We still go to Wal-Mart together. I just slow down, don't make all the trips with cart down all those aisles. I especially avoid the detergent/fabric freshener aisle because of the overpowering smell. I don't try to turn the cart on a dime. I now know my limits.

But what I don't understand is why Caroline can't multi-task tv shows. Put a remote in my hand and I can watch four baseball games, one pre-season football game, one golf tournament, and two movies and follow them all. Not my wife. I think her multi-tasking ability is for work and mine for play.

THE CARNY

Every year around July 4, the carny came to town. Now the ferris wheel may not have been as large as the one pictured, but it was to me. There may have been no more than three rows of carnival barkers and maybe ten rides, but it seemed like so much more.

The Rocko-Plane was the best ride. You had some control. Oh sure even in the Tilt-A-Whirl you had some control, but the Rocko-Plane allowed full astronaut-like manuevering. Lots of little bellies filled with Malone's taffy, corn dogs, and cotton candy got good and sick after, or in some cases, during the ride.

I loved it when you got a nice carny worker who allowed you to ride longer. Maybe he was eating or smoking or talking, but you knew when you got those extra precious seconds that were so important.

When you spent your last quarter on a syrupy sno-cone, or one last chance to knock down those pins with a softball to win a bear for your girl or mom, you could still head to the skating rink and watch the others skate. Or you could walk around the miniature zoo complete with one old tired looking kinda mangy lion. Or you could walk around the park lake. Or you could walk around the old bandstand, but some hoody looking guys were always there, so you had to be careful. There were also free big slides and a shell for musicians, kind of a half-dome. There were a couple of swimming pools, though one was not much more than a wading pool. There was a baseball field complete with wooden stands that rose forty rows or so with partial overhead covering.

Of course, the highlight was the fireworks shot from the park lake. We thought they were great though they probably paled in comparison. A low lit display of the American flag always ended the Fourth of July. And, you know, it's funny. I never remember it raining then.

Man, that park was cool. We played football and tennis and basketball there, too. All without adults watching. They don't make parks like that anymore.

WHO'S TO BLAME?

My favorite baseball team's not very good anymore. Of course I'm talking about the St. Louis Cardinals.

It seems to me like they need a kick in the seat of the pants. All except Mr. Pujols, David Eckstein, and Chris Carpenter. Perhaps I might add Chris Duncan, Adam Wainwright, and Scott Spezio. But for the rest, including Mr. LaRussa and Dave Duncan, no more excuses.

First of all, the NL is bad. Period. You don't have to be very good to win a division title if you play in the senior circuit. Gaping holes in line ups were exposed during interleague play. Bullpens cough up leads, starters only go 5 or 6 innings and that pleases their bosses. ERA's are escalated.

For the Cardinals, their strength, starting pitching has unraveled. Even heralded rookie Anthony Reyes looks very hitable. Again, only Carpenter gives you a good feeling. Marquis is schizophrenic, Suppan pedestrian, Ponson unreliable, Mulder injured, perhaps done for the good guys.

The bullpen, shaky at best when the season started has also imploded. Led by Izzy (speaking of hitable/schizo/pedestrian, and unreliable all rolled into one), set up by Looper (can you spell overpaid), middle relief (misnomer for 2006) of Hancock, Thompson (now Kinney), Wainwright (thankfully) and lefties Flores and Johnson(there's that word again--unreliable). It's not a pretty sight.

Then there's a feeble offense. No consistent number 2 hitter. And that's glaring. Maybe the best slot in baseball--ahead of El Hombre. No consistent clean up hitter. Streaky and oft injured Rolen, aging Edmonds (sometimes when he plays shallow and can't reach a routine fly I'm reminded of the look on Michelson's face on number 18 at the US Open). Then there was Juan. See Izzy. Not much of an outfield I'm afeard.

I ignored second base on purpose. Who do I criticize? Miles, Luna? And with Junior Spivey in the wings? The Grudz (and no I can't spell his name) was the fix there, but someone overthunk in the off season and let him go.

At catcher we have a solid defenseman, who hit .180 for most of the first half. Still no back up, we wear him down.

And the schedule's not a good thing--7 home games remaining in the month of July. With our road record that doesn't bode well.

So who's to blame? I didn't do it has a ring to it. Will the Cardinals win the division? The wild card? The World Series?

I'd say maybe one of the first two, but as for the big prize, well wait till next year.
And a heckuva overhaul.

HURRAY FOR THE RED, WHITE , AND BLUE

The hiatus has been a technologically caused one. In San Diego for the week helping our daughter move, we found her new digs didn't haven't a telephone jack in the computer room. She improvised a hook up in her bedroom floor where all I would have to do is sit spraddled legged in the floor and look up to her cedar chest at the monitor. I chose hiatus.

Our Western trip was great, topped off by great cookouts and weather. But one of the highlights certainly was the sermon preached by her pastor, Scott Furrow. I told him after the service how much I enjoyed the sermon. I didn't tell him I would blog about it.

In the new Superman movie, Superman stands not for "truth, justice, and the American way," as he did back in the day. Today, he stands for "truth, justice, and all that stuff." Omission by innuendo is still omission. Or rejection. The last two sentences were mine, so you're getting a Furrow/TQ version on the July 2 sermon at First Baptist Church of San Diego.

Our Time is still the American Way, Superman movie-goers. And what's wrong with the American Way in 2006? Plenty. We act as though we are the busiest people in the history of the world. We don't have time for God. We better make time. We must return to the basics. Did you know that with the exception of Cornell, all the other Ivy League schools were seminaries? Founded to study religion and prepare those students for the clergy. I don't know the number of Ivy Leaguers that even attend a weekly church service, but I'm afraid it's low.

Some say the Civil War tide turned at Vicksburg, Mississippi. They must have believed it, for in Vicksburg they refused to celebrate July 4 for 84 years after the war. Not until 1947 when General Dwight Eisenhower went to Vicksburg on Independence Day did they began celebrating again. They waited for a great man to show them the right way, the American Way.

America is waiting again. Our time is right now. Our great man far exceeds Mr. Eisenhower. He is the Lord God Almighty. He has blessed America, again and again. Rather than Him returning to us, we have to return to Him.

If you were not in a worship service last week, that's ok. Our God is a forgiving God. Let's help turn the tide. Let's get American back to God. One at a time.