MIND THE CAT A friend and encourager all our years in Apalachicola, George Chapel was a brilliant man with a photographic memory who had a mind for history and the gift for telling it, writing and speaking. With two affectionate and attentive cats here, one must be ever mindful of George's stories of the Rt. Rev. Reginald Heber Gooden, Bishop of Panama in the years when George grew up in the Canal Zone. Among them was the time Bishop Gooden called at the home of a lady who was a prominent and active member of the diocese. Ushered graciously into her sitting room, the bishop sat down in a chair only to squash the tiny dog of his hostess. Many years later when George hosted Bishop Gooden's visit to Apalachicola, the bishop confirmed that this was indeed a dark part of his history. Combining the Gooden Disaster with the MIND THE GAP signs one sees at every exit of the London Tube, it's a good idea here at the Spinks house to take a look before taking a seat. +++ ++...

Once years ago when Kristen was very young, her brother said he had seen millipedes in their basement. Kristen phoned me in tears, “Papa, can I spend the night with you? I’m just not a bug person.” This made me very happy and I went next door and got her, but forever after I was accused of planting millipedes in their basement to make her want to come stay with me.  Not centipedes, millipedes are as harmless as roly-poly bugs to whom they are related. But I know how it is to be just not a ___ person . I’m just not a spider person. I’m just not a public person either. For that reason I haven’t over the years been a presence on Facebook. I’m just not a Facebook person. Wonderful people, folks present and folks from long past, invite me to be Facebook friends and I accept though I never post. And I’ve almost never checked Facebook to see what was going on unless someone said my nephew Michael had posted new pictures of a Chevelle or Corvette he was restoring -- Mike’s more than ...

Not Ol' Blue Eyes Luke 10:38-42 (NRSV) Jesus Visits Martha and Mary 38 Now as they went on their way, Jesus entered a certain village, where a woman named Martha welcomed him into her home. 39 She had a sister named Mary, who sat at the Lord’s feet and listened to what he was saying. 40 But Martha was distracted by her many tasks; so she came to him and asked, “Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to do all the work by myself? Tell her then to help me.” 41 But the Lord answered her, “Martha, Martha, you are worried and distracted by many things; 42 there is need of only one thing. Mary has chosen the better part, which will not be taken away from her.” +++   +++   +++ In Luke’s story, our gospel reading for next Sunday, Proper 11, Jesus on his way to Jerusalem stops at the home of Martha and Mary. What may come to mind is the home of Lazarus and his sisters Martha and Mary, in Bethany just outside of Jerusalem; but that’s in...

Invocation, Not Proclamation Life is good proclaims this morning’s coffee mug. And on the other side, Do what you like. Like what you do . It’s a good coffee mug, thick and heavy, sturdy, stable, exactly like mugs I drank coffee from a thousand mornings in warships at sea. Except for the writing, it’s a Navy mug. Good one. Hard to knock over. Hard to break, not fragile. On chilly mornings it keeps my coffee warm longer. America, America, God shed his grace on thee , prays a national hymn, and crown thy good with brotherhood ... and mend thine every flaw . It’s a prayer, not a proclamation. The word shed is not past tense, proclaiming what God has done and gone. Shed is an invocation parallel with crown and mend -- we’re praying about America, for God to work with us ... ... (may) God shed his grace on you ...  ... (may) God crown your good with brotherhood ...  ... (may) God mend your every flaw ... God has not done it to America and gone, ...

Whatever the subject, it is a good thing in life to have a healthy contempt for the "wisdom" of “experts.” Somebody pulled our high school down and what we have left are postcards and paintings. The building could have been saved, at least the front wing.  But as Carol Burnett screamed at her mother Vicki Lawrence, “You ran off the only man I ever loved, and,” pointing to her husband Harvey Korman, “look what I got stuck with.” The old pictures bracket my 1949-1953 years at Bay County High School, as it was in those days before Mosley, Rutherford and Arnold. Now it’s Bay High School without the word County . The most popular picture shows a 1957 Chevrolet parked out front. The same ’57 Chevy is also parked in front of a popular picture of Cove School. The artist isn’t quite old enough, eh? The old picture above shows cars from the middle to late 1930s. I can’t get close enough to identify all three of them, but the black sedan on the right is a Silver St...

Dates One deals with life as life presents itself, and to whom would one complain anyway, and thank you kindly for the pinched graphic.  Life is life, and it’s the way it is, take it or leave it, and for the most part most of us will take most of it. Seared into memory are some dates we would rather not carry, but Time is an unshakable concept of the human brain and with a calendar to mark it. Happily remember wedding anniversary and birthdays. Remember the first moment seeing each of my children when they were barely minutes old. Remember being allowed to hold one.  Remember my retirement dates, February 1, 1978 and October 1, 1998. Remember a few death dates, the day President Roosevelt died. The day my grandmother died, my first personal experience with human death; the dates my parents died. The bright white light over the table, white room, white clothing of doctor and nurses when I was two years old for tonsillectomy, don’t remember the date but brilliant...

Stored in my mind, taking up space where Bible verses ought to be memorized but are not, are pictures, memories of cars that friends, neighbors, relatives and acquaintances had during my growing up years. Or just cars that I noticed. There are dozens, hundreds, kajillions of them. Some used to show up around Cove School dropping off or picking up kids during the 1940s. And I rode in some of them.  Robert’s mother had a Dodge sedan, seems to be it was blue, that I remember riding home from the Ritz Theatre in. I think it was a 1937 Dodge, Robert may remember. The Carmichael family had one like it, and so did the Sheffields two doors down from us. Mrs. Sheffield used to stop at the bottom of the driveway and let us all pile on the running board to zip up to the garage. One day I stepped off while the Dodge was still rolling and the right rear tire rolled over my foot. I thought I was killed, but 30 seconds later it was all forgotten by everyone but my mother. Scotty...