After being told our seats for the
Gaither concert were on the mezzanine, not the main floor, I explained our
options to Miss Virginia and Barbara, none of which seemed doable at the
time. The elevator option would have required far more walking than I felt
Miss Virginia could handle in the relatively short time we had to get to
our seating before the show started. And, while walking downstairs for the
elderly is easier than walking upstairs, I considered the danger of one falling
down stairs far riskier than one falling up stairs.
Of course, had there been a couple of strong young men, willing and able,
I might have considered them locking arms to form a seat for Miss Virginia,
and asking them to carry her up to our row of seats. In my mind I could picture
myself carrying her piggy-back up the stairs, but I doubted either of us
was up for the task. Upon due consideration, Miss Virginia decided to try
walking up the stairs.
We exited the main floor and made our way to the stairwell area nearest our
seats. I didn’t count the steps, but there must have been twenty or
more separated by a short landing. Miss Virginia took her time and made it
up the main stairs using the railing and the support of Barbara and me. Reaching
the steps that led upward to row eight, we were intimidated by the sheer
distance and the fact there was no rail for support beyond the first couple
of rows. Yet, with Barbara holding one arm and me holding the other of Miss
Virginia’s, the three of us slowly ascended.
Respectfully, all the occupants on our row stood or moved into the aisle
to allow Miss Virginia and us to get by. Our seats were nearest the stage,
and we were as far down the row as was allowed. A tarpaulin was draped across
the extreme end of our row in an area that would have left anyone seated
there viewing the backs of the performers.
I shared with Miss Virginia, my idea of how Barbara and I ended up on the
receiving end of her Christmas present.
"Yeah, I know what happened with the tickets. When your family saw the seats
weren’t on the floor, they didn’t want any part of getting you
up and down stairs. That’s how we got ‘volunteered.’"
Miss Virginia laughed and said she’d have to tell them what I said.
As auditorium seats go, ours were comfortable though somewhat cramped for
those of us a certain size and beyond. The lady to my left was in the beyond
category and parts of her violated my space, leaving me with only one armrest
and sharing my folding seat with a portion of her thigh. I often chit-chat
with strangers seated by me, but this time I avoided doing so until the end
of the program, as I felt I already knew her only too well.
In the final moments before Bill Gaither made his appearance, guitarist,
Kevin Williams, played two instrumental numbers for our entertainment. The
tunes, "Are You Washed In The Blood" and "I’ll Fly Away" were familiar
to the majority of folks present, and were beautifully done. As he finished,
soundman, Rory Rigdon, joined him to promote Kevin’s CD "Guitar Homecoming"
and a few other items on sale in the lobby. In that brief time, we glimpsed
some of the humor the two would inject throughout the evening.
In his opening remarks to the near capacity crowd of gospel music lovers,
Bill Gaither commented about the great music before us and how he’d,
"try to have us out of here by ten-thirty."
As everyone applauded or laughed, I did the math and hoped he was kidding.
My bottom gets mighty tired of sitting for four and a half hours, regardless
how much the rest of me is enjoying itself. Three hours later when we broke
for a fifteen minute intermission, I realized he wasn’t kidding.
For a number of years Bill Gaither’s music company has focused on what
I believe to be a lucrative venture, that of performing before a live audience
with a talented group of musicians and singers across the broad spectrum
of a mostly gospel music genre, blending voices of the youthful and the mature.
Known as "The Homecoming Series," the larger of these ventures are taped
and millions of copies are sold to adoring fans, who watch them again and
again through the miracle of home entertainment – video players, or
DVD players connected to a television set.
The performance in Tupelo, "Bill Gaither & Homecoming Friends Give
It Away Tour 2008" was a scaled down version of the Homecoming Series,
but the voices of twenty singers was sufficient to be fully appreciated by
all.
One verse of Give It Away states, "If you want more happy than your
heart will hold, If you want to stand taller, if the truth were told, take
whatever you have and give it away."
"Give it Away" was not only the theme song for their 2008 tour, but it was
the catch-phrase of the Gaither’s seed-sowing goodwill effort.
As Christians we are truly blessed, not always materially, but certainly
with a faith that carries us through the trials and tribulations of life
and a faith that compels us to share with others. The Gaither’s have
taken this to a new level by giving away at least a thousand dollars, two
hundred dollars to five persons in the audience whose names are drawn after
intermission. The recipients are challenged to "give it away" to someone
else. Bill said they’ve received incredible accounts from individuals
all around the country of how some multiplied the gift and gave away even
more than they received.
During intermission I took our three
forms and placed them in the box for the drawing, but our names were not
drawn. So, my lifetime record of not winning anything at a drawing remains
intact. I gave some thought to using a men’s room during intermission,
but apparently that was on the mind of all the other men in the building
who had left their seats at intermission. However, the lines extended from
the doorway and so far down the hall that I decided I could wait a spell
longer and returned to my seat.
There wasn’t any part of the concert that I didn’t enjoy. The singing
of the Gaither Vocal Band, the songs by Jeff and Sheri Easter with Charlotte
Richie, Linda Randle, Signature Sound, Ben Speer, Janet Paschal, Kevin William
on guitar, Gordon Mote on piano, and Greg Ritchie on drums were all nothing
short of spectacular. Of course, Bill Gaither kept the show moving along
and the humor bordered on comic genius.
Mississippi was well represented on the stage in that the phenomenal bass
singer for Signature Sound, Tim Duncan, hails from Corinth, and the drummer
for the Easters, Greg Ritchie, is from Pontotoc. During one skit, Bill asked
Tim how much he weighed.
"Wet or dry," Tim responded, to the delight of the audience, before sharing
one hundred and thirty-five pounds.
As to Greg and Charlotte Ritchie, they’re expecting a second child in
April and will be leaving "The Easters" to live in Nashville, where they
will be closer to family.
While, as stated above, there wasn’t any part of the concert that I
didn’t enjoy, I believe my favorite part was the last hour, in which
all the singers sat on stage, homecoming-style, singing gospel favorites
and inviting the audience to sing along, too.
Four hours fifteen minutes after the entertainment, or should I say worshipful
experience, all began we were standing and applauding until the stage was
emptied.
Note:This is the second of a three part series based on a thoughtful
Christmas present Barbara and I received through the generosity of Miss Virginia
Dillard and family. Last week, we shared the getting-there phase of our concert
going adventure. This article has dealt with the concert itself and those
on the program. Next week, the adventure concludes with what may well be
the most entertaining part of our adventure-filled outing.
Inn Trouble Best-Laid
Schemes...
My son-in-law has a history of thwarted good intentions. Three years ago,
his idea of an anniversary gift for his wife wasn’t deemed personal
enough by Rayanne. Neither the portable phone nor the alarm clock earned
him any points with my daughter. At that particular point in time, Rayanne
had admonished Anson they didn’t need to spend any money on each other
for their anniversary, as money was in scarce supply for their household.
The flowers sent the next day, an atonement effort, proved as futile as did
the less-than-personal gifts he’d given to his wife, and it took a surprise
birthday party days later to get him out of the doghouse.
Anson’s parents celebrated their Fiftieth Wedding Anniversary on February
9th in Belmont, Mississippi. Barbara and I attended the affair
to congratulate them on their marital milestone.
While we were there, Anson pulled us aside to share, "Next Friday night,
I’m taking Rayanne out to a nice restaurant in Alabama for our Twelfth
Anniversary. What she doesn’t know is we’re spending the night
in a nice motel. That’s the surprise."
How priceless was the look on his face. His pleasure in his secret plans
could not be contained. Something so well thought out had to express itself,
and it virtually erupted as a broad smile across his face.
As a guy, I admit to admiring his scheme and could only imagine that his
every expectation for the grand evening would be realized. What could possibly
go wrong? Arrangements had been made for his parents to keep the children,
dinner and motel reservations were made, and there was surely a plan in place
to sneak the luggage for the overnight stay unnoticed and into the family
van. It was beautiful, I tell you,
beautiful.
But as the Burns stated, "The best laid schemes o’ mice an’ men...(are
often thwarted – in today’s parlance)."
I don’t know at what point in the evening Anson shared with Rayanne
his scheme, but I would imagine it would have been near the end of dinner.
And, I can picture him leaning toward her in a candlelit Kodak moment and
exclaiming, "Guess what? We have the rest of the night to ourselves. The
girls are spending the night at Gran-Gran’s, and we’re sleeping
at the Starlight Inn, the swanky new one up the street."
And I can equally envision my daughter’s reaction. "I don’t have
my makeup or a change of clothes. You know I don’t like surprises, and
I especially don’t like sleeping in a motel bed somebody else has slept
in. It freaks me out."
"Don’t worry, honey," he surely must have said, "I’ve packed everything
you need right down to your favorite jeans. Our bags are under the blanket
in the back of the van. Anyway the motel is almost brand new; the bed may
never have been slept in."
I have no official word on what transpired in the waning hours of the evening
and really no official word until after nine o’clock Saturday morning.
That’s when Rayanne phoned her mother to give her an update.
In that conversation Rayanne stated much of what I attributed to her above,
adding, "Anson didn’t pack my hairbrush so I’m stuck here with
a wet head until he gets back from Wal-Mart or wherever he finds one. And,
my ‘favorite jeans’ he brought have bleach stains all over them."
The gist of it was Rayanne was not the happy camper one might have expected.
When Barbara pointed out what a nice gesture it was on Anson’s part
to have planned a special time for them, Rayanne stewed, "You’re taking
his side, just like his mother did."
To which I would’ve asked, "What’s wrong with you, girl? For most
women, Anson’s sort of thoughtfulness would have been joyously received
had their husbands done the same for them!"
Alas, I can’t be too hard on my own child. I did help with her raising,
and her gene pool does have a few of my ornery genes in it. So it’s
not like she’s perfect, which is something Jason will be proud to know
I said, but I admit to being a little perplexed by her response to the situation.
Perhaps, it’ll be as Barbara said, "You need to write this down, Rayanne,
so in ten years or so, or when y’all celebrate your Fiftieth Wedding
Anniversary, you can read it and laugh about it."
For me, I don’t have to wait; I can laugh about it right now.
Bodock Beau Things Mother
Taught Me
Relavites forwarded these our way. Thanks to Lamar Carter and Ken Gaillard,
respectively.
My mother taught me LOGIC.
"You are going to get it when you get home!"
My mother taught me MEDICAL SCIENCE.
"If you don't stop crossing your eyes, they are going to freeze that way."
My mother taught me ESP.
"Put your sweater on; don't you think I know when you are cold?"
My mother taught me HUMOR.
"When that lawn mower cuts off your toes, don't come running to me."
My mother taught me GENETICS.
"You're just like your father."
My mother taught me about my ROOTS.
"Shut that door behind you. Do you think you were born in a barn?"
My mother taught me WISDOM.
"When you get to be my age, you'll understand."
My mother taught me about JUSTICE
"One day you'll have kids, and I hope they turn out just like you."
Irish Discretion
Six retired Irishmen were playing poker in O'Leary's apartment when Paddy
Murphy loses $500 on a single hand, clutches his chest, and drops dead at
the table. Showing respect for their fallen brother, the other five continue
playing standing up.
Michael O'Conner looks around and asks, "Oh, me lads, someone got to tell
Paddy's wife. Who will it be?" They draw straws. Paul Gallagher picks the
short one. They tell him to be discreet, be gentle, don't make a bad situation
any worse.
"Discreet? I'm the most discreet Irishmen you'll ever meet. Discretion is
me middle name. Leave it to me."
Gallagher goes over to Murphy's house and knocks on the door. Mrs. Murphy
answers, and asks what he wants. Gallagher declares, "Your husband just lost
$500, and is afraid to come home."
"Tell him to drop dead," says Murphy's wife.
"Right you are Mrs. Murphy, I'll go tell him." says Gallagher.
![[Image]](Image4.gif)
After being told our seats for the
Gaither concert were on the mezzanine, not the main floor, I explained our
options to Miss Virginia and Barbara, none of which seemed doable at the
time. The elevator option would have required far more walking than I felt
Miss Virginia could handle in the relatively short time we had to get to
our seating before the show started. And, while walking downstairs for the
elderly is easier than walking upstairs, I considered the danger of one falling
down stairs far riskier than one falling up stairs.
During intermission I took our three
forms and placed them in the box for the drawing, but our names were not
drawn. So, my lifetime record of not winning anything at a drawing remains
intact. I gave some thought to using a men’s room during intermission,
but apparently that was on the mind of all the other men in the building
who had left their seats at intermission. However, the lines extended from
the doorway and so far down the hall that I decided I could wait a spell
longer and returned to my seat.
