What Happened to Halloween?

In actuality, evil may be a bit of an overstatement. I don't suppose I've run into anyone who thinks that Halloween is completely evil and that those who trick-or-treat or attend a Halloween party are engaging in some sort of sugar-induced Satan worshiping. What I have seen in the years since I last trick-or-treated, somewhere in the neighborhood of thirty years or so ago, is a dramatic increase in the number of families who don't take part in any Halloween festivities at all. I've heard several explanations from these families, some in person and some that I may have seen on the news or read about in the paper, as to why this is the case. Though there are many, they all seem to share a common theme that goes back to that particular family's religious beliefs.

Make no mistake, if that is your conviction then you are doing the right thing by standing firm in that conviction. In a society where conviction of any sort seems to have gone the way of the dinosaur, that is a refreshing change. So, kudos to you! My question is simply this: What has changed so much over the years that has made Halloween taboo for so many?

As a child, Halloween was a day I looked forward to with great anticipation every year. I started the process of choosing a costume several weeks, if not months, in advance! I remember being Superman(I loved that cape), some sort of monster with a green head, a mummy, a vampire, and a cowboy among many others. The churches I grew up in, in which my old-school, conservative, traditional, Bible preaching, teaching, and believing father was the pastor, even had Halloween parties for the children of the church. The kids(and lots of the adults) would dress up in the costume of their choice and there would be games, a costume contest, and lots of goodies. In one church, our Samford University educated minister of music and youth actually had the youth group sponsor a haunted house to help raise money! It was SCARY! Granted, this was 1979 and maybe he just hadn't yet been enlightened yet.

Out of all of my friends that I grew up with and spent many a Halloween trolling for candy and seeing who could put together the scariest costume, I can't think of a single one who became a devil worshiper or joined a cult. I'm not saying that it hasn't happened. I'm just saying I don't know about it if it has.

As I said before, if that's your conviction then I think that's great and you will get no argument from me telling me that you are wrong. I am just curious to hear from some of you who might feel differently than me about Halloween. Maybe you can fill me in on something I've missed. I don't want to wake up one day and find that I've shaved my head and joined the Moonies because I celebrated Halloween. Help me out.

The Sound

I love roller coasters. Let me rephrase that...I love roller coasters except for the initial climb up the first big hill. Heights and I have never gotten along terribly well which I suppose might make it odd that I love roller coasters so much. Nevertheless, several years ago Gigi and I spent a few days in Tampa and with Tampa being home to Busch Gardens, we decided it would be fun to spend the day there.

Among many great rides and roller coasters there, they have a coaster called Montu. It is one of the tallest, longest inverted coasters in the world and we couldn't wait to ride it. You can see in the picture above that it seats four passengers in each row. Your feet dangle in mid-air and your arms and upper body are largely immobilized due to the "thing" that comes down over your head and torso to keep you from flying off into the giraffe habitat or something. I always say these types of coasters, when I am strapped in, make me feel like a Tyrannosaurus Rex because the only part of my arms that can actually move are my wrists, thus giving me the feeling that I have really short arms, much like a T-Rex did. This will come into play in a moment.

We stood in line and when it came our turn to board, we found ourselves riding with two young men who appeared to be in their early to mid-twenties. The two of them boarded first, followed by Gigi, and then me. Remember that Gigi is seated between me and one of the young men. This will also figure into the story in a moment.

The ride starts and we make our way up the dreaded first hill. As we near the top, my acrophobia begins to give way to excitement. We finally top it and begin our descent into incredible thrills as we make our way through seven "insane inversions" as they are referred to on the Busch Gardens website. On just about any coaster there will be much screaming and gnashing of teeth. This ride certainly fit the bill. Gigi and I were yelling with excitement as were the two young men we were sharing this ride with.

That's when I heard it. The sound. A sound which still haunts me to this day. Somewhere around insane inversion number three the guy sitting next to Gigi, in the middle of a scream of pure, unadulterated joy, made a sound that can't be written with mere letters on a keyboard. The best way I can describe it is that it is akin to the noise you'd make if you ran through a cloud of gnats and sucked about 10 of them down your throat. A sort of half-choking, half-trying to expel something from your esophagus sound. It's unmistakable and one of the last places from which you want to hear that sound emanate is the guy sitting next to your wife on the Montu. Trust me on this one.

Before you get ahead of me, it wasn't the dreaded sound of regurgitation, thankfully. However, for someone like me, it might as well have been. Gigi would say after the ride was over that she saw it as it virtually weightlessly floated in front of her face toward me. I would not be so lucky. The "it" being referred to here was, for lack of a better term, a hunk of saliva. A gravity defying, slow moving projectile made of, well, spit. This projectile which harmlessly floated across Gigi would find a temporary home just below my left eye.

If you've ever been spit upon, either accidentally or on purpose, even if it's only a tiny drop during an innocent conversation, you know that the brain immediately signals the hand to remove the offending foreign DNA sample as quickly as possible. My brain sent this signal out posthaste and my hand sprang into action. It was at that point that I realized that my tiny, little T-Rex arms could not reach my face. In fact, no combination of neck-stretching, hand/wrist distorting movements could remove this vileness from my cheek. I can only tell you that the the first two or three insane inversions on the Montu were exciting. The rest of them turned out to be quite disgusting as best I remember.

I spent the better part of three minutes, which is 7 hours in spit years, on a roller coaster with a stranger's expectoration hitching a ride on my face. In my world, sinks rank only slightly higher than toilets in the hierarchy of the various fixtures found in public restrooms. I can't even begin to imagine what takes place in and around a sink in the average public restroom. But as I disembarked from Montu and practically sprinted for the nearest bathroom, that sink was an oasis of anti-bacterial soap and hot water as I buried my face in it.

If I've been on a coaster of that sort since that fateful day, I don't remember it. I've heard that sometimes our mind blocks out particularly difficult or distressing things that may have occurred in our past. Maybe that explains my uncertainty. I can tell you this much, though: If I ever do have occasion to ride such a coaster again, it will not be without a hazmat suit. What listing would those be under on Ebay?

Great Concert This Week in Wetumpka!!!

If you have been paying attention, you probably noticed the countdown clock over on the right side of this page. If you are a fan of Christian music, or just good music in general, you're going to want to make sure and be at the Wetumpka Performing Arts Center this Sunday night at 7:30.

The Robbie Seay Band, Bethany Dillon, and Caleb will be in concert right here in Wetumpka, bringing their nationwide Songs of Hope Tour to our fair city! For us to have a concert of this magnitude right here at home is huge!

If you are a Christian music fan, you're probably familiar with RSB and Bethany Dillon. You may not have heard of Caleb yet but I guarantee you that you will soon! Caleb consists of Caleb and Will Chapman who happen to be the sons of one of Christian music's icons, Steven Curtis Chapman. I promise you that you won't want to miss this opportunity to see these incredibly talented artists.

Tickets are only $10.00 and you can buy them at Bridgeway Wireless on Main Street in Wetumpka or by calling Trey Caton at 334-514-8739. Better get them now as there aren't many left!

Go here for more information: Songs of Hope Tour

Don Whorton, 1944 - 2009

I don't specifically recall the first time I met Don Whorton. I was in my late teens and had already become very interested in all things political. I'm sure I listened to Rush Limbaugh frequently and I was a registered Republican. Don's future(at the time)son-in-law, Ricky Roberts, and I would occasionally talk politics and Don never missed an opportunity to take a little jab at me for being a Republican. In fact, I'm certain that from the time he figured out that I was a Republican, he never called me by my name again. For the last twenty years or so he referred to me exclusively as George. As in George H.W. Bush, the Republican president at the time I met Don. I can't begin to count the number of times he said to me, "One day I'm gonna' take you to Washington and show you what it's all about!" This was, of course, before he ran for and was elected to the Elmore County Commission as a Republican.

Don was never one to shy away from politics. Unlike many politicians, though, I believe that Don sought public office because he genuinely wanted to make life better for those he served. I think he succeeded. There were times when it was a bumpy ride but that is to be expected in politics. Good times or tough, he conducted himself, both personally and professionally, in a manner that all public servants should. In a way that his constituents could be proud of. He never came across as self-important or arrogant. He came across as a regular guy who cared about the issues that the citizens of Elmore County faced and wanted to help them deal with those issues. He came across that way because that is what he was, a regular guy. A humble dairy farmer with a servant's heart. We should all aspire to reach such lofty heights by way of humility. It wasn't always easy on him and his family, but he always persevered and did what he believed to be the right thing.

Don passed away this morning after a long illness and my prayers and thoughts are with his family, who are among my dearest friends. To Janice, Carol, and Beth, I would say simply this: Take comfort in the fact that your husband and father was a good, upright man and Elmore County is a better place because he chose to live, serve, and raise his family here. I am proud not only to have called him my commissioner, but my friend as well. He will be greatly missed.

Who Wants a Trophy?

Have you held the door open for a lady walking into a restaurant?

Maybe given a child a quarter to get a piece of gum from the gum-ball machine?

Or, perhaps you have slowed down considerably to keep from hitting that squirrel who can't decide which way to go to get out of the way of your car?

If so, then I have good, no, GREAT news!

You have an excellent chance at winning the Nobel Peace Prize!

You might ask, "What are the qualifications?"

To which I would answer, "Apparently, there are no qualifications." Or, "Pretty much the same as the qualifications to be the President of the United States."

Heck, at least Jimmy Carter built a bunch of houses for people. Mr. Obama...well...he...umm...organized his community! That's it! He organized  his community, drank a beer with a cop, and smoked lots of cigarettes! Other than these things, his most notable accomplishments have been unsuccessfully, thus far, trying to ramrod a ridiculous, government run health care plan through congress, traveling around the world apologizing for the United States being the best, most benevolent country on the planet, and calling for a college football playoff. Oh, and did I mention that he drank a beer with a cop?

The Nobel Prize, for whatever credibility it had left after awarding the prize to such notables as the aforementioned Jimmy Carter and the inventor of the internet, Al Gore, is now without any credibility at all. President Obama has done absolutely nothing other than spew a bunch of hot air into the atmosphere, which should anger all of his "green" friends. He is nothing more than a celebrity who was banking on his personality and likability to convince such despots as Mahmoud Ahmadinejad and Hugo Chavez to stop doing bad things. "Hello, may I speak to Mahmoud? Mahmoud, how are you? It's Barack. Obama. Barack Obama, the President of the United States? Yeah, hey. Look, I just wanted to call and ask you if you would mind not doing all the bad stuff  you've been doing. I'm a pretty well-connected guy and can get you tickets to a Springsteen concert if you promise to not shoot Israel with some sort of really powerful bomb. Sweet! Thanks! I can trust you, right? I'm just kidding, I know you're a stand-up guy. Tell the Ayatollah I said wassup! Right, O-B-A-M-A. My middle name is Hussein. Yeah!  I knew you'd like that! Have a good one. Bye."

I have several baseball and football trophies from when I was a kid that I'm going to give away as awards and I'm going to call them the Hanky Prizes. I'm going to give them to some of my friends who've done nice things for me over the years. I know they'll be excited! After all, now I can say that the Hanky Prize has every bit as much prestige as the Nobel Prize!

Take a Look at The Wetumpka Herald Today!

Just when you thought it was safe to go back to a Wetumpka City Council Meeting...Councilman files complaint against fire chief

Little Green Fingers

Some time ago, we discussed here whether or not fish had shoulders. We won't rehash that one now. If you have no idea what I'm talking about, click here. Now I have another similar question regarding frogs. Do they have hands?

I'm sure I have spoken here in the past about my disdain for small, quick, jumpy creatures that can get on me before I realize what has happened. This usually results in a sort of guttural growl of panic that escapes my lips immediately followed by the dance I'll refer to as the "GET IT OFF ME" dance. There is much flailing of limbs and a fair amount of gnashing of teeth until I'm certain that whatever was on me has been shaken or violently knocked off  by one of said flailing limbs.

Back to the frog. The neighborhood that I live in is right next to the river. In and around the river there are lots of frogs. LOTS of frogs. Anytime there is a good rain, these multitudes of frogs decide that it is a good time to go for a walk, or hop, into the streets of my neighborhood. If you drive around my neighborhood after such a rain, you will be serenaded by the sound of popping under your tires. Who knew frogs literally popped like balloons when you run over them. How I've missed that all my life, I don't know. A bit macabre, I know, but it gives you an idea of how many frogs are out and about.

About two weeks ago, I decided to go out for a run around 8 p.m. or so, probably about a half-hour after one of these rain storms ended. It was when I was walking down the driveway on the side of my house with my headphones on and the cord dangling down about mid-thigh that I felt it. It didn't really register at first. But on the third or fourth time I realized that something heavier than the cord from a set of headphones was bumping against my leg. I looked down and much to my chagrin I saw a frog, not a tree frog, but the other kind of frog, a regular frog I suppose, hanging from my headphone cord by his little frog hands. At least they looked like hands. He looked up at me as he swung back out away from my leg for what would prove to be the final time. It was at that moment that we made eye contact. Probably the way that the guy who does the catching on the flying trapeze does with the catchee when he realizes they are about to have an unfortunate parting of the ways. Except there was no safety net for Kermit. There was only the side of my house as my right arm sent him flying into the bricks. It didn't sound like it felt good. If you take your hand and slap the back of your thigh, then you'll have a pretty good idea of the sound a frog makes when he flies awkwardly into a brick wall.

I'm not necessarily what you would call a "big" man, though I am bigger than average and I used to weigh in at a rotund 240 lbs. A friend and I were once discussing what we like to think we'd do if we were ever on an airplane and someone tried to hijack it the way the 9/11 hijackers did. His comment was along the lines of "If I start crying then the hijacker better watch out because the only thing more dangerous than an angry big man is a scared big man." I thought it to be a rather profound statement with at least some basis in truth. If you don't believe me, ask the frog what he heard, saw, and felt on that fateful day. He'll probably say that he was simply trying to do some chin-ups when he heard something that sounded Chewbacca choking on a peanut shell and before he knew what was happening, he had taken off like a rocket, smashed into a wall, and found himself lying half-conscious on the ground while being beckoned to "come toward the light."

I don't know if Mr. Frog survived his wild ride or not but I've learned that those of us who fear these horrific creatures must be especially vigilant following a rainstorm. Now I'm just hope I don't have a wart outbreak on my thigh.