I Think His Name is Oscar...

Earlier this week, Wednesday afternoon, I was sitting in the living room when I heard the screen door open then heard a quiet knock, the kind of knock our friend and piano teacher Rhonda makes when she comes to the door. Half expecting it to be her, I opened the door to see a young man with slightly dark skin, maybe America Indian, maybe Hispanic.
He was selling home security systems, and I told him after about 90 seconds of his presentation that I didn't think we'd need one. He asked why, and I said, "Because I'm here most of the time."
Then I turned the conversation away from what he was selling by asking if he was from around here. He was from Utah. Told him we'd been there and told him what resort we stayed at in the mountains. Told him we visited Salt Lake City. He asked what I thought of Utah and I said, "It's a nice place to visit, but I wouldn't want to live there."
That could've insulted him I suppose, but he asked, "Why? Too many Mormons?" And I agreed that they do have a lot of Mormons, though honestly never got around to telling him that wasn't the reason. Turned out he's Mormon (what are the chances?) and we talked some about our different belief systems. Told him we visited the Tabernacle while we were there, then he impressed me by showing me a card that allows him entry into the Mormon Temple. They don't let just anybody in the Temple. My understanding is it's a handful of folks, which would suggest he's got some pull in the Morman faith.
We shook hands, parted ways, but I thought I'd probably see him again. I had told him how I had met with Jehovah's Witnesses for 22 months and had Bible study with them weekly in my home for about two hours. That intrigued him.
After Vacation Bible School that night, Alice came home, and I went by Domino's and ordered a pizza. While I waited for it to get ready, my cell phone rang and it was Alice, sounding a little nervous and asking when I'd be home. I told her I was waiting on my pizza, but I'd be there as soon as I could.
She said there was a man sitting on our porch and she didn't know him. I asked what he looked like. She described the Morman boy I had talked to earlier in the day. I said, "Tell him maybe I should get a security system, if strangers are gonna be making themselves at home on my porch." She relaxed after that and asked him if he wanted something. He said he was just waiting for his ride and wanted to get out of the sun. I think she told him he could use our porch for that anytime...
The following day, Thursday, I was in the laundry room loading the washer when I heard the doorbell. I opened it up and there stood the Mormon boy with a friend, someone who was on his first day on the job selling security systems.
They asked if I would fill their water bottles. I did, and we talked some. The new boy was from Seattle. They wolfed their water down, so I filled their bottles again, talked a little more, then gave the Morman boy my home phone number.
He said he'd call before he left town and see if I wanted a security system. I said I wouldn't, but that I did care about their welfare, and if they needed anything to call me.
Where I'm hoping this is headed is a Bible study this summer with him and whatever friends he wants to bring along. I've got two water bottles in the freezer right now, just in case they come back again tomorrow. I think they will...

Dave Exits the Stage and a Late Night Era Ends

When David Letterman hosts his final show tonight, it will be the end of a television era. Letterman has been in late night TV for 33 years, and he's the last of the old guard.
I discovered Letterman when he made his first appearance on Johnny Carson's Tonight Show, and I watched his short-lived morning program in the late '70s. When Dave got a show following Johnny's on NBC, I was watching. At the time I was in college. As he leaves the airwaves tonight, my youngest daughter is in college.
Dave was once a likeable, goofy, funny late night friend. He's become a little too left-leaning in his politics over the past few years for me, and way too mean about it. It's time for Dave to go, but what's left is a handful of young guys meant to play to a younger audience. That may work for some, but for me it's hard to sift through the Jimmys and the James and conclude who's the best.
For a long time I've watched late night TV for the guests, not for the host. When Johnny Carson was still alive and still in the game, I watched for the host. When Dave first came along I watched for the host. When Arsenio was on the air I watched for the host. Nowadays the host is the background and the guests are center stage, so I won't watch anyone of them every night, and I'll watch when the guest is so good I don't wanna miss it. Late night TV has forever changed, and not for the better in my opinion.

Uncle Ed

I knew him as my uncle Ed.

I also knew him as a friend of my dad’s. They attended the same youth group at Second Baptist Church in Montgomery, Ala.

I knew him as a brother to James, who is also my uncle.

When my dad, a county missionary south of Montgomery, was invited home to eat with a family of the church where he was leading the singing for a revival, Magnolia Baptist, he met my mother. She had sisters. He introduced his friends to them. They all got married.

I knew him as an Alabama high school football coach. He also spent some time as an official.

He worked for the state and his job was making sure the school buses were safe. He took that job seriously, to the point of investigating the crash at Carrollton, Ky., when a church bus was hit head-on by a drunk travelling the wrong way on the interstate.

Later he would drive buses for tour companies.

I knew him as a husband to my Aunt Joyce, my mother’s sister, and a father to their only child, my cousin Angelia. He called his wife "Honey." I thought that was her name when I was little, and might've called her "Aunt Honey" a time or two.

I knew him as a rancher, with a nice spread outside Prattville where he kept his cattle.

I knew him as one of many members of my mother’s side of the family that we’d get to see on that day of feasting known as Thanksgiving, if we saw them no other time of the year. And often it was at his house.

I knew him as one of the loudest, most boisterous fans ever of the Alabama Crimson Tide.

And I knew him as a man of God.

Like my dad in his last few days, my Uncle Ed was in-and-out between Heaven and Earth. He told his daughter on Wednesday that he had seen Jesus.

He went to be with his Savior a little over 24 hours ago. He’s free from the pain of the cancer that took him, in a land where the Bible says we’ll know no pain or sorrow. But he’ll be sorely missed by those of us left to carry on here until it’s our turn to go to Glory.

See you there Uncle Ed…