Going Down Memory Lane: the Burp Well Building

I remember those days well. My Wofford friends and I would walk from wherever our classes were that day to the Burwell building and the cafeteria (as I recall we called it Burp Well). It was a ritual, check your mailbox before going upstairs to the cafeteria. In the days before cell phones and email, the US Mail was it besides an expensive phone call. Back then, as we looked in our tiny mailboxes and nothing there, the response was "all I got was a rock" a line from one of the Charlie Brown/Peanuts Halloween television shows. The last time I opened my Wofford mailbox was 24 years ago before I graduated. I have no way of knowing how many people have had that mailbox in 24 years. I could not tell you how many locks, electronic devices, and other password or combination accessible items I have opened in that time.

I do know that memory and the work of the brain is a remarkable thing. Certainly there are chemical and electronic processes that happen that spark something here or there in our brains and trigger memories. What I don't understand is how it works sometimes and other times it doesn't. Why is it we can remember stupid song lyrics from 30 years ago and not our spouse's birthday?

Yesterday (from what I remember) was a good day. I had work and home responsibilities as usual. I realized in the afternoon that I forgot a parishioner's surgery yesterday morning---first time that has happened. Earlier in the day, I went to Wofford as part of my Board of Higher Education and Campus Ministry duties. The meeting was on the first floor of Burp Well. I went to the Post Office. I saw a sign that said mailboxes were free---had they always been that way? I walked to my old mailbox nothing was inside---"all I got was a rock."

I could not tell you what the combination was. Could I open the box? My fingers went to the combination dial...

Memories come and go. Some we cannot get out of our heads and others we cannot hold onto no matter how hard we try. Here's hoping your memories are good ones today.

$12.50

Last night, the boys wanted to eat something before they went to the movies. We stopped at the Taco Bell here in Gaffney; I paid the young lady at the register and she gave me the change. I flipped the quarters in my hands as I have done for almost ten years. One was shiny, new...maybe it could be...

For almost ten years, I have been looking closely at the change in my hands. It started when I got this cardboard map of the United States in 1999. It has the states in different colors and a pocket in each state about the size of a quarter. You may have guessed by now that I worked to collect the state quarters that the US mint began to issue ten years ago. I showed my young sons the map at that time; here was their timeless response: "Daddy, we could buy a lot of Pokemon cards with that much money!"

I know some collectors went to the bank to get their quarters on schedule and others would buy them rolls at a time. That was not my method. I got my quarters from change I got in everyday transactions (all but one, thanks Mr. Bob). Each time, I would go home with my treasure and put it in the map. These quarters have been the only thing I have collected since I sold my comic book collection to help out with my seminary expenses a long time ago.

Last night, I got my change at Taco Bell. I flipped the shiny quarter in my palm over and saw it was the "Hawaii" quarter. The lady at the register thought I hit the lottery. She gave me another Hawaii quarter so I would put one in the collection and use the other. Nice lady.

I now have the 50 state quarters---$12.50.

I am not sure what I will collect next... Pokemon cards??

Small Towns, Large Values

The busiest intersection in Hemingway, South Carolina

This past Wednesday night, I went to Wahalla, South Carolina, to visit my niece, nephew, and sister-in-law, upon the death of Kent, my sister in law's father. This is a family that has seen more than their share of tragedy in the past three years with the deaths of three very special people. My brother, Eric, always liked Wahalla; I could see why at the funeral home Wednesday night. Wahalla is a small enough town where most people know each other and treat each other like family. There was a presence Wednesday that spoke to that. I feel comfortable that my family there will be cared for daily by their church and community in ways that would make Eric, Kent, and Joan proud.

I am finding Gaffney to have that same kind of atmosphere. It is a bigger town than Walhalla but the values of community are still present. I guess I am partial to small towns. I grew up in Hemingway, which shaped me a great deal into the person I am today. I have lived in Spartanburg, Atlanta, Baton Rouge, and Charleston; but in those places the school or the local church served to convey those community values. Small town certainly face problems today--- plant closings and economic challenges, the school systems aren't as well funded and sometimes attitudes are not open to healthy change.

South Carolina is a state of small towns and rural villages, but not for long. As less people farm, and more textile operations close, the children of the small towns flock to the larger cities for jobs and educational opportunities. My hope is that with these changes we can still find ways to relate and care for one another as it was done in the past in places like Wahalla, Hemingway, and Lowndesville.

How hard can it be to find an alarm clock?

Last week, I wrote about needing an alarm clock. Turns out Mamma Deacon needed one too; her alarm clock stopped working after the 1,000,000,000th time she hit the snooze alarm in five years. We go to Wally World to purchase alarm clocks---with battery backups. We got two with a strange neon blue glow.

Glow really is not the right word---supernova would be better. Twin blue supernovas in our bedroom. It looked like the police were testing their light bars. We passed one of the clocks off on Airman We. He has wrapped it in a t-shirt and put it on the other side of his room.

Yesterday, I went online and purchased an alarm clock. It is the Cadillac of alarm clocks---three daily alarms available, each alarm allows you to wake to a different radio station. It has a "declining snooze" which ought to make Mamma Deacon happy.

Time keeps on slippin' and its supernova bright.

Time keeps on slippin'...I think

We are trying to get ready for Advent and Christmas at church. That time of anticipation and preparation. Speaking of time, every time piece I own is malfunctioning or missing. I replaced the battery for the atomic clock in my office and for some reason it is stuck on California time. I have misplaced my watch (somewhere in the house, I think). This morning, by bedside digital alarm clock (with nice big numbers) is missing some pieces of the numbers. My boys and I agree, it now looks like some countdown clock from an Alien vs. Predator movie.

I am now dependent on the DVD player, my cellphone, the microwave oven and the computer for my time keeping. Which is interesting because none of those clocks read the same.

Time. We live and move by it. Advent is about that time in three tenses... what was, is, and will be. There will be other times to blog about advent. If I can find the time!

I am still here

Hello To all who bookmark this blog and those still looking for a triple bunkbed!!

I do still live and breathe. Sorry for the long break from blogging, but I have been getting my schedule balanced. When I am not doing the church thing, I am still keeping up with Mamma Deacon, Lt. WE (he got an ROTC promotion), The Athlete, and LPCoolJ. There has been football, cross country, and church youth groups added to the schedule. Mamma Deacon is now on the border between the Rock Hill and Spartanburg districts and her distance driving is not quite as bad.

The Athlete and I are serious Wofford football fanatics---to the point where Mamma Deacon would prefer to not be in the same room as we are when we watch Wofford on TV. The T-Dogs are having a good year with a possible spot in the playoffs (yes, Wofford and the FCS are not part of the fickle sportswriter and computer selection bowl championship series that name their champions on the sports page rather than settling it in a playoff format). LPCoolJ is trying his skills at wrestling, so that will be fun.

I went to an Order of St. Luke convocation in October and I have started to pray the daily office which has helped me balance what is important. I have been walking and watching what I eat, to some benefit I might add.

The key to getting my balance seems to be figuring out the rhythms of Buford Street UMC where I pastor. The church has had some staff issues as well as breaking ground on a new family life center since I got there. We had a full staff for almost a week until the unexpected death of our minister of music. Learning the people and the system in the midst of all this has been a long adjustment. But I am getting there.

Thanks to all who have been patient as I have gone through this process and understood how my blog couldn't be a high priority.

By the way, if you are one of the three dozen people a week who come to this blog via a google inquiry for triple bunk bed (and you have read this far today): the bunkbed was sold.

Peace.

Something some of us knew all along

Wofford played USC last Saturday night. I took the Athlete to the game. It was fun being the only Wofford fans in the entire section. The silence of the 70,000+ Gamecock faithful after Wofford takes the lead was memorable (and awesome). Unfortunately, Wofford lost 23-13.

I take some consolation in this quote Coach Spurrier made after the game.

“Coach Ayers never has to worry about the effort level of those kids. They all play their hearts out every play. It’s fun to watch them play, to tell you the truth. We’re trying to get to that level. We’re trying to play like Wofford around here.”
Coach Steve Spurrier, The University of South Carolina