–Ernest Haycox  (The Earthbreakers)

 

Mornin’ to yuh, Pard.  Yep, been doin’ a heap of deep-thinkin’ this week.  My land, when yuh think yuh’ve seen it all, then wham–yuh ain’t.  Yuh know the world used to be like the ol’ merry-go-round at the carnival, but now it’s more like the tilt-o-whirl.  It’s not only spinnin’, but it’s spinni’ this a-way and that a-way, and jerkin’ the daylights out of yuh at the same time.

       But let’s take a moment to savor the elixir before us.  Ahhh, good an’ strong.  Hopefully it’ll help us see straight after bein’ on this topsy-turvy world.  Hang on for what I’m ’bout to tell yuh will shake the bones of ol’ Baden-Powell.  With the advent of WOKE, there is no longer the Boy Scouts of America.  Yep, they’ve become ashamed of that name, for the reason of plain stupidity.  It will now be called, Scouting America.  How ’bout that?  Don’t that shake yur gizzard some?  WOKE, why don’t we really call it was it is–the lies of the devil.  

       I need another swaller after that to kinda settle the bile.  But here’s something else.  In the name of “culture” and WOKEISM, West Point will now be teaching all freshmen about the “evolution of cross-dressing in the military.”  Yuh think I’m jokin’?  Wish I were.  Yep they say they need to be teachin’ regardin’ “gender norms.”  My mercy, that’s easy enough–male and female.  That’s all there is about gender; they way God made them.  Yuh see, people are tryin’ to be little gods, and they’re gettin’ themselves and tryin’ to get others all confused.  But let me tell yuh something else about the current situation that we are seein’ in our fightin’ forces; those that are supposed to be defendin’ us.  

       Here we go…  Last year the Navy appointed a drag queen for help in recruitment in order to attract a “talented” and “diverse workforce.”  Yuh talk ’bout jumpin-frioles!  Thinkin’ to be wise they become fools.  Lord, help us through the jungles…!

       One thing for sure, keep yur heart right before the Lord, another is to ride straight, sit tall in the saddle.  An’ as ol’ Paul wrote, “Be alert, stand firm in the faith, be brave and strong…oh, and one more thing–don’t forget to check yur cinch ‘fore yuh mount up.

       Vaya con Dios.

                    –Lynnette Bonner  (Songs in the Night)

 

I wanted the coffee to be extry strong this mornin’ for the things I’ve got t’ tell yuh.  Sit yurself down, take a couple of long swallers so’s yur gizzard is fully awake and the stomach is coated for the bile that might come its way.  First of all, glad yuh could make it over.  That ol’ hoss of yurs must have canoes for feet or he can paddle like a duck.  Whooee, have we had the rain.

     But on to what I wants to tell yuh.  Ready?  Here goes, an’ this is almost quotin’ directly:  There must be a reinterpretation of the Gospels to the Christian faith of God.  It must be based on popular common sense.  Who said it, yuh ask?  Why the grand hoopla himself over in the Vatican–the pope.  Now if that don’t gall yuh, and here’s somethin’ else–what is popular common sense?  Must be speakin’ ’bout the Woke crowd, the progressives.  Hmm, settin’ up the work for the False Prophet who will cheer on that evil man that is to come.

     Now if’n that ain’t enough to rile yuh some, listen to this, happened last week.  The United Methodist Church has changed its mind.  It overturned overwhelmingly, the article said its ban on ordaining gay clergy.  They will allow same-sex marriages in the church.  Well, ain’t that enough to pop yur bubble gum!   A bunch of church officials may change their minds but the Lord Almighty doesn’t change.  He is the same yesterday, today, and forever.  Mercy me, what if the good Lord was always changin’ His mind.  Perhaps only every century or so.  Why He might think that us poor ol’ fence posts might not be needed in the Millennium, and if’n yuh have too many knots on yur noggin’ yuh might no longer fit in.

     With all this rain, yuh think we might at least run through our noggin’s the thought of the days of Noah.  As it was in the days of Noah…  Pard, oh, yuh need a refill of this thick sludge.  Don’t blame yuh, drink all yuh want to settle down the bile.  Don’t be a-bowin’ to none of this junk.  Salami, Salami, Baloney–as the wise ol’ stooges would say.

     Hey, Pard, I was close to right.  I see yur ol’ mount is wearin’ waders.  Stay on high ground, ’cause there ain’t no dry ground right now.  Be safe if’s yuh have to go out, and best be checkin’ that cinch a couple of times; it might slip with the wetness.

       Vaya con Dios.

                    –Lou Bradshaw  (Hickory Jack)

 

Greetin’ to yuh, Pard.  Glad yuh stopped by.  Coffee’s hot, strong, and ready for yuh to guzzle.  Been doin’ plenty of contemplatin’ this week.  Thoughts just seem to float through my mind, and sometimes they zip and I cain’t quite get holt of them.  Lot’s of disturbin’ things happenin’ in the world; reckon they’ll continue as long as the Lord tarries His comin’.  Boy, howdy, won’t that be a day!

       Was readin’ some this past week.  Once in a while I glean something; not much to chew on, but I do move it ’round some on my molars.  Saw where our “distinguished” President is goin’ to sign some of our rights over to WHO.  Seems like that pandemic of the virus still resonates in his mind, if that’s possible.  This little deal gives the director-general of WHO the “power to declare a public emergency in any member nation–even over the objections of a member nation.”  Whooeee, think of all the possibilities.  But we know, the whole thing’s about power.  The implications are staggerin’ though.  Don’t wear a mask–yur a danger.  Don’t get a shot–yur a threat and could be thought of as a domestic and international terrorist.  My, and the scenarios continue.  Best be ready, Pard.  The days of evil are just beginnin’; we need to be prayin’ that last prayer in Revelation, “Even so, Lord Jesus, come.”

       Pard, this ol’ boy could declare that my coffee is a danger to yur health.  Goodness, the thought is unnervin’ almost.  Too strong, yuh have to weaken it.  Need to add some sweetin’ to make yur gizzard happy and tolerable.  Make cinos, not strong coffee.  Whooee, think of all that could take place.  Best enjoy this brew whilst we got the chance for yuh never know.  Why the ol’ buzzard could declare that the batch of coffee beans contain some kind of parasite–one that makes yuh sit up straight and take notice and not cowtail to his power.  Enjoy Pard, I don’t even mind yur slurpin’.  

       Whilst yur doin’ that, I’ll pour another cup then share a story.  This comes from an ol’ preacher-man and it’s about an ol’ cowboy hat.  He said that backslidin’ is like this:  Yuh can sit down on yur hat once and straighten it right up.  But keep on sittin’ on it, an’ the more yuh do it, the less likely yur to gettin’ it back into proper shape ever again.  He’s right, it takes work to keep yur hat fit and proper lookin’.  Mess it up, an’ well, yuh understand what I’m a-sayin’.  People who were once sold out taste a little of the world, hmmm, sorta like sippin’ a cino if that’s possible, now put a little smudge on their hat.  Oh, they can still wear it, but it’s sullied up some, and sits on yur head a little lopsided.  One side is bent over, yet yur proclaimin’ that it’s still a good fit.  The ol’ boy finished his message with this:  “It’s time for you and I to keep alive a Godly fear and carefulness in our daily Christian walk.”

       Hear me, Pard, yuh right tall in the saddle.  Don’t take no guff from ol’ slewfoot, and be wary and watchful of the trail.   Remember, sittin’ on yur hat is ’bout the same as not checkin’ yur cinch.  One makes yuh look silly, the other might give yuh a knot on yur noggin’.  Keep yur gun oiled and Bible handy.

          Vaya con Dios.

                      –D.C. Adkisson  (Redemption)

 

Come on in, Pard, and delight yurself in some of this hot joy-juice that’s a-brewin’.  Hot and strong…I made it.  Yuh can use the pump if’n yuh need to dilute it, but come on, man-up.  Ahh, that delectable taste and purtiful aroma…just the thing to get a body goin’ on a Saturday mornin’.  Plenty of doin’s today.

     What’s that?  “Windy”  Yuh say I was too windy yesterday?  Part, yuh have to understand that sometimes a body can’t get all that needs sayin’ down on one page.  Sometimes it take a bit more.  What?  I need to conserve trees?  Pard, yur tryin’ to pull my leg.  I don’t use enough paper to ruin a forest.  I do my best to keep the Echo down to one page, but sometimes there are things that need to be said.  I know, I know, ol’ Dresselhaus has a better way with words than I do an’ he can get his said shorter, but sometimes a feller has to lengthen his thoughts.  Yuh didn’t like it?  It could have been worse–it could have audio an’ yuh could have heard this ol’ fence post a-singin’ Never Alone.  That’d be worse than usin’ more paper for shore ‘nough it’d right start a stampede.

      I see yuh smilin’, the coffee suit yuh this mornin’?  Say, while I’m a-talkin’ I want to tell yuh something.  Listen, an’ listen tight.  This ain’t the same ol’ range.  This hyar deconstructionism, or postmodernism is sure done terrible things to society.  It don’t matter much where yuh go yuh can see the results.  Dress as yuh please, instead of dress for the occasion or to be moderate, or to be pleasin’ to the heavenly Father and those around yuh.  It don’t matter, yuh say?  Bah!  Dress might not make the man, but it shore ‘nough does show his attitude.  It isn’t deconstruction, it’s plan ol’ sloppiness.  I remember the ol’ sayin’ “dull knife, dull boy.”  Dress like a slob, yuh just might be one on the outside, but even worser on the in.  Pard, stay sharp, keep yur gun oiled an’ ready.  Polish yur boots for Sunday meetin’, and if’n the occasion calls for Sunday best, don’t be wearin’ flip flops, shorts, and a jersey to be showin’ yur hairy armpits.  After all, Pard, who wants to be seein’ yur mangy toes with those curled up nails from wearin’ those tight boots?

      Yuh, see I said that with a smile, not to downplay the truth of it.  Oh, say, if’n yur ’round Coldspring this evenin’ stop by Calvary Baptist Church.  They’re havin’ a chili cookoff.  Yep, I’m a-makin’ some chili, though not my regular recipe.  I’m makin’ chili from a recipe by the ol’ bard–Gene Autry.  Yep, it has a little different flavor.  Nope, I don’t put my ol’ boot in it, nor let Aloysius swim through it, but there’s somethin different, an’ I say that with a smile.  Come on by if’n yuh get the chance.

      With that bein’ said, if’n yuh swing by, be checkin’ yur cinch before leavin’ home, I want yuh to make it.  The weeks ahead of yuh, the Lord has things to be did, an’ if yur noggin’ is busted because of yur foolishness, why the work might just not get done or someone else will have to be doin’ it for yuh.

                 Vaya con Dios.