Not a good sign

Okay, that’s not a good sign, is it. On the television show “Rowan and Martin’s Laugh In” some generations ago — while we were at Naval War College, Newport, Rhode Island in fact, so it was 1968 - 1969 — I don’t remember which character played him, an elderly, quite elderly, professor dragged his feet shuffling to the lectern, began reading his lecture, immediately started dozing, and dropped his head onto the lectern table, snoring dead sound asleep. Just so, this morning, looking forward to Shell Island Sunday when I hold down our two services at HNEC while everyone else is eating fried chicken on the beach, I sat down in my Chair by Sea and began drafting my sermon — it’s a homily actually — for those faithful who remain behind to worship and praise the Lord in the Last Surviving Remnant of the One True Church. Finished, I read it through once, noted that it is half again too long and has to be cut at least one-third, and fell asleep. Rousing drowsily, I made my way to the bed, and waked when Linda shook me saying “It’s after noon and your hotdog is ready.”

Not a good sign, eh, that people will be shouting Amen, preacher, tell it.

But at least I've got my barks ready.

DThos+ dozing through +Time+