WINNING! (Part One)

Well folks, our family's week on Family Feud has rolled back around and our shows will air the entire week of March 28 at 1:00 p.m. on Channel 34 locally. If you are out of the OKC area, you can go to http://www.familyfeud.com/, type in your zip code and find your local station. Most of you don't know this, but Family Feud was not my first experience with 'winning' on television, although it was certainly my most successful one.

My first actual TV appearance was when I was about six or seven years old. My mom carted me up to Oklahoma City (from Ada) and I appeared on The Foreman Scotty Show. For those of you that are as OLD as I am, you'll remember it as a local kids show (similar to Ho Ho the Clown) that featured a studio full of kids each week day, with the host, being Foreman Scotty.

Foreman Scotty

That first time that I was on the show, I got to sit on Woody, the Birthday Horse. Yes, of course it was my birthday. That was one of the few perks of having a birthday during the summer when school was out; you were free to skip town, and do special things. After all, it was difficult to invite very many kids to a birthday bash, since they too were out of school, hard to reach (life before FACEBOOK), and often on their OWN family vacations.

The second time that I appeared on the show, my Uncle Rickey went with me (my mom and his mom, Granny Bo, drove us from Shawnee where they lived, up to Oklahoma City for that appearance). Rickey was my uncle, but he was only about three years older than me. Once we got to the studio, there was a shuffling for kids to get seated on the risers there. Being short (it runs on that side of the family), Rickey and I got to sit on the front row. That was one of the few perks of being short; you got to sit on the front row for pictures, choir concerts, and on Foreman Scotty.

I loved Foreman Scotty. He was on every day at 4:30. I always thought that Foreman was a strange first name. It didn't click to me until years later that he was the 'foreman' on the ranch; the Circle 4 Ranch.  Foreman Scotty ALWAYS wore a hat. I think that when I perform and/or sing at the Rodeo Opry, I just don't feel right unless I wear my hat. I blame that on Foreman Scotty (besides, the 'hat' makes me look taller).

Two really exciting things happened every day on The Foreman Scotty Show (for all the kids that were there). Each show they gave away a 'Golden Horseshoe' and a 'Golden Zoo Key'. Now in order to win the 'Golden Horseshoe' you had to EARN IT. The point was for you to make the funniest, most ridiculous face you could make or jump up and down doing the silliest thing you could imagine in order to get the attention of the camera; which in turn had a lasso superimposed on the screen, that panned crazily to and fro until it landed on (lassoed) that special, crazy kid who was making the funniest face (or making the biggest fool of himself). Honestly, it probably would normally go to the cutest little girl or darlingest little boy no matter what they were doing; but we were sure that it was an award based purely on merit and we were both intent on earning it.

As I mentioned, we were on the first row of chairs; in fact I was in the very first seat on the end and Rickey was in the second seat right next to me. During the first commercial break Rickey turned to me and asked me to switch seats with him.  "Why?" I asked. Turns out Rickey was going to be doing some kind of a 'bird thing', with his fists in his armpits, and his elbow-wings flapping (think Red Skelton and the two seagulls, Gertrude and Heathcliff for all you fellow old-timers) and he needed the extra room on the end there, for his routine to really take flight. Being the acquiescent little nephew that I was, I switched seats with him. So the time finally came for the 'Golden Horseshoe'. I began to contort my face. Rickey flapped his wings. I stuck out my tongue and turned up my nose. Rickey flapped his wings even harder. And guess what? That's right...neither one of us won! Some little cute girl on the second row left that day with the Golden Horseshoe. We couldn't believe it!

During the next commercial break, we sat there whining like Kobe Bryant looking for a foul call, lamenting to each other about had badly we had gotten robbed. We almost didn't notice when the cameras started rolling again and it was time to award the 'Golden Zoo Key'. We both were startled when they announced that the winner of the 'Golden Zoo Key' was whoever was sitting in SEAT TWO! You see, you couldn't earn the Golden Zoo Key. You couldn't lobby and beg or even hope to perform your way into winning it. The Golden Zoo Key (at least the way we understood it) was a random drawing of a random seat number, and once it was pulled out of a hat (or from whatever orifice they extracted it from), the random child received it as his or her 'lucky' prize. The problem that day was that Rickey HAD been sitting in SEAT TWO. But he, of course, had swapped seats with me, in hopes of securing the 'Golden Horseshoe' and thereby forfeited the winning ticket, as it were, by now sitting in SEAT ONE. In his mind, I had taken his 'Zoo Key'; in his mind, he was supposed to win it; but I got it, since I was sitting in SEAT TWO: his seat. I got what he deserved.

Now I could make all kinds of parallels here but let's start off here:

Isaiah 53:4-6 (New Living Translation) Yet it was our weaknesses he carried; it was our sorrows that weighed him down. And we thought his troubles were a punishment from God,a punishment for his own sins! But he was pierced for our rebellion, crushed for our sins. He was beaten so we could be whole. He was whipped so we could be healed. All of us, like sheep, have strayed away. We have left God’s paths to follow our own. Yet the Lord laid on him the sins of us all.

Put simply by Paul and Peter: Christ died for our sins.
Put simply by me: He swapped seats with us.

Does that mean we get the 'Golden Gates Zoo Key'? That analogy might be a bit of a stretch although I certainly didn't earn it or deserve it. Perhaps I would have won the key even if I hadn't switched seats (after all, I'm sure I was the 'darlingest little boy' there that day ;). I do know that every time we went to the zoo with that side of the family from then on, and I would pull out my 'Golden Zoo Key' and use it to hear about the animals, Rickey would immediately start in on how it was his key and how I had been sitting in his seat!

Oh the joys of winning!

Conversely, we've all had times in our lives when someone else has gotten something that we felt like we deserved...when we wanted to be the winner, but someone else got the prize. Those times are not nearly as pleasant but are every bit as memorable; and they perhaps shape our character more than winning.

Oh the heartbreak of losing...

(to be continued)

DEATH AND 'FACTS IS' (Part Two)

This whole Blog was not meant to be about vacations; but about the permanent vacation, aka: death.  As a worship leader and default pianist for our church, I play and/or sing at a lot of funerals.  Most have been dear saints who were at the end of long, mostly productive lives (to my knowledge, anyway), so tears of grief were mixed with those of joy and relief.

But there have also been some folks die quite unexpectedly recently (technically before 'their time', as 'they' say).  A couple of them were riding motorcycles and that in itself gave me reason to reflect.  A pretty good friend of mine (not a 'BFF', but a good buddy) named Doug Jones died the final day of my sophomore year at Muskogee Highschool while leaving school. It was a sad ending to what is normally a pretty happy day ("School's out, school's out..."). He was a guy that I went to both school and church with; and he was widely hailed as the 'toughest guy in school'. You never expect one of your highschool classmates to die...but especially not one as tough and rugged as Doug. He was one of those Timex guys, that could take a licking (and keep on ticking). I observed a couple of his playground fights; and afterwards was always glad that he was my friend (and not my enemy).

Most of us have experienced that kind of death at least once in our life.  Think about some of yours for a moment; when you had a schoolmate or someone about your age die suddenly; or even just some kid who lived down the street who died needlessly while going about his or her normal, everyday routine...for the last time.  I'm not speaking about that group that lives 80 plus years, and dies after a long illness or extended nursing home stay, as sad though as that can be.  I'm referring to the unexpected news; that interruption of a life that seemingly would go on and on and on. Doug Jones. Michael Freeburg. Trevor Roberts. Diane Smith. James McLish.  Truthfully, the longer I sit here and think, the more names that come to mind.  Most of them didn't get to marry or to have kids.  They didn't get to worry with bills and mortgages or find themselves without a job and struggling to make ends meet.  They didn't see the Murrah building blow up or the Twin Towers fall.  They didn't get crows feet and worry lines.  They didn't lose their hair and their looks.  They didn't get to retire.  They didn't get to live...at least, not very long.  And not as long as you or I have.

But you see...that's what living is; lots of good...lots of bad...lots of routine; for who knows how long. Too often the bad can overshadow the good and the routine can overtake it all. I stop and realize that I don't even know what my dad's little brother's first name was. Fact is, I don't know the names of people in your lives that were unexpectedly taken. All any of us have right now, besides a houseful of 'things', is RIGHT NOW; a life that was extended longer than several others that we came in contact with. It doesn't make us more valuable or 'special' because we're still among the living; it doesn't even mean that we have a higher calling or a worthwhile purpose that they didn't have. It just means we're still here. The fact is we don't know 'why'.  We don't know 'why not'. The fact is most of us won't take time to sit and reflect on it; or even to put it down in a Blog (or to divide up our houseful of 'things' in a 'will'). I can also tell you that I don't know if that's good, bad, routine or somewhere in between! If the place they are in, is indeed a 'better place', then maybe the joke's on those of us still here on earth.

I always tried to encourage my kids to enjoy the 'now'. I warned them that when you got to junior high, you'd wish you were still in grade school (but wanting to hurry up and drive). When you got to highschool, you were wishing you were back in junior high (but wishing you didn't have a curfew).  When you got to college, you realized how easy you had it in highschool (but you couldn't wait to get out and get your own job).  Too much time spent pining for the good old days, yet wanting the next milestone to hurry up and arrive.  Sigh!  But it should make us all stop...and appreciate our life; the one we have TODAY. It makes me thankful; not just to be alive, but thankful for those who, although they perhaps did die 'before their time', managed to touch my life in the process.

So part of me thinks, "I've got so much to do. Put the lid down and step away from the laptop!"  But here I am, typing away.  "Oh look! The sun's finally out." Get off the computer; and DON'T get on Facebook.  But here I sit, still typing.  When we tally it all up, maybe we've WASTED more time (and more key strokes) than the aforementioned folks actually lived (or typed).  Hopefully that's not true; but let's all at least resolve to try and quit wasting time; or at least as MUCH time (in their honor!).

Yes, we're lucky (blessed) to be alive. I believe I've been blessed by the good AND the bad things of life. We'd be so boring if we didn't lose sometimes.  We'd become way too self-reliant if we didn't have to call on others (especially God) to get us through the tough times. But with that being said, I do want to focus on the 'good' things in my life and choose to joyfully live (and acknowledge the gift of) each day.  To that end, you probably won't see me post statuses, tweets or blogs about the 'routine or the in-between'...like I said, I don't want to focus on that.  I may even choose to blog less...but hopefully live more; so that when I do blog, you'll be glad you invested your time to read it.  While you're at it, read Psalm 51 which includes this verse:

Psalm 51:12 Restore to me the joy of Your salvation, and uphold me by Your generous Spirit.

Just for fun, go to my Red Letter Day CD and listen to Can't Take My Joy Away! It's a good five-minute aerobic tune about holding onto your joy (actually it's a three minute song with a two minute jam!).  So, hit play...then start dancing (think 'Snoopy Dance')!  Let it roll while you work around the house, clean in the kitchen or wrestle with your kids (or your spouse). Value today. Pursue joy! Then hold onto it (for dear life!).

...whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable-if anything is excellent or praiseworthy-think about such things. Philippians 4:8

Don't debate them.  Don't over-analyze them.  Just meditate on them.  Be content.  BE HAPPY!  You're alive!  Enjoy the fruits of the spirit.  I'm particularly partial to these: patience, kindness, gentleness and self control.

So, exercising my 'self control', I'm going to now stop typi

DEATH AND 'FACTS IS' (Part One)

My family always took vacations.  Every year, we'd load up in the car and drive somewhere.  When I was really young, a couple of times it involved staying with relatives along the way.  It was both a chance to see them, and to get a free room for the night.  Mostly though, there never seemed to be a lot of vacation planning.  In fact, a few times, my dad would sit down the night before we were to leave, open up a map of the United States and ask out loud, "Which direction should we go this year?"  Then he would 'kind of' plot our route.

We only actually flew somewhere once, which not so coincidentally was the first time I flew in a plane.  But that flight was preceded by a long and winding road through New Orleans, down the coastline and on to Panama City Beach.  Somewhere along the way we decided to catch a flight from Panama City to the Bahamas.  If we could've driven to the Bahamas, I'm sure my dad would have done that instead, to save the money.

The problem with flying out of the panhandle of Florida was this: we had to take off and land three times to just get to Miami, lay over about six hours, and THEN fly to the Bahamas.  I tended to get a little car sick when we drove, and taking off and landing that many times in the same small plane about did me in.  By the time we reached Miami, I was miserable.  To quote the Beatles, "All the way the paper bag was on my knee, man I had a dreadful flight!"  I sat there in the Miami airport with my head in my hands, trying not to throw up, hoping to rid myself of that horrible nausea.  I wound up being VERY thankful for the six hour layover and a chance to finally return to my normal color before I boarded that last flight to Nassau.

I'm sure the Bahamas was my mom's idea.  She was always interested in seeing the world.  She made sure she got to see Hawaii and Israel before she died.  They used to put 'stickers' on your luggage when you flew, and we had the 'Nassau, Bahamas' stickers on the sides of our suitcases from then on. We lived in Ada at the time, and not too many folks had even flown that lived there, more or less been to the Bahamas. She dropped the 'Bahamas' bomb whenver possible in conversations (to impress). But from my perspective, I had only bad memories of that trip.  Whatever last minute hotel we booked in Nassau wasn't really on the beach, just near a not-so-nice public beach; and after the initial 'flying' experience, I spent most of our time in the Bahamas dreading the flight back.  I have no desire to go there again, so I won't be buying any timeshares in the Bahamas!

One year my dad plotted out a trip to the Northwest. We managed to take in Mt. Rushmore, Yellowstone, and the Great Salt Lake during that 'swing'. We never really went to cities; we just aimed for National Parks or tourist destinations (although on the Bahamas swing, I think we DID actually take a half day guided tour of New Orleans.  I just remember the above ground graves.  Those things stick in your head as a kid).  As usual, we never booked a hotel in advance.  We always drove way longer than we should have each day, and waited much later than we should have to find a hotel.

Remember, there wasn't the plethora of hotels back then that we have now, so normally it was a small one-story motel by the side of the road, where you parked in front of your door, and stayed the night.  The ritual always involved finding a neon 'no vacancy' sign, where the 'no' wasn't lit up (think Bates motel).  Then my dad would go to the front desk, get a key for a room, and go look at it first, to be sure it was clean and presentable before he'd ever actually secure the room.  I can remember many times when he'd come back to the car, when the room WASN'T worth renting (even for him), and it was back on the road until we got to the next town, and the next motel with a vacant room.  It was a rare occassion when we would decide to stop driving about 5:00 to stay at a motel with a pool, so that there'd be time (and daylight) to swim; but never more than once a road trip.

The same scenario played out that year when we arrived at Yellowstone.  Once we got there (which was pretty much in the middle of nowhere) we discovered the only rooms to be had were in and around the park.  Of course the 'lodge' was booked up.  However, my dad found us a great deal on a tiny one-room cabin in the heart of the park.  There wasn't a bathroom (I think we all shared a large one, that was down a path through the trees) and I'm not sure there was even electricity in the darn thing.  Even though it was summer, it was, of course, high up in those mountains, and that night it was frigid.  The ONLY heat in that cabin came from a small open woodburning stove in the corner.  Thank the Lord my dad was a country boy, and knew how to get that little stove percolating.  However, it was still really cold (you could see your breath), and the only way to stay really warm, besides keeping several layers of clothes on or crawling in bed underneath a ton of covers, was to stand right in front of that stove.

Like most kids, I was never good about heeding warnings.  I had a small scar right beneath my eye for many years from running with a screwdriver in my hand in spite of the fact that I'm sure I got the "you'll poke your eye out" warning many times.  I swallowed a marble when I was about five even though I'm sure I got the "don't put that in your mouth" warning many times also (that marble never DID show up although we watched and waited for its arrival for several days after that).  So, this time was no exception.  My dad quickly said, "Don't get too close to that stove.  You'll catch on fire."  Once again, this would have probably fallen on young, 'deaf' ears, but then he added a little something that really DID get my attention.  "Back on the farm," he said, "I had a little brother that burned up from one of those stoves."  That stopped me in my bare tracks (pun intended).

You see my dad grew up in a one-roomed house north of Seminole, Oklahoma; and that was how THEY kept warm in the winter (way back then).  And it was news to me that he ever had a little baby brother.  I knew about his sister Linda, and his brother Dan.  But I guess there was a fourth Whittern child that got a little too close to the woodburning stove as a toddler, caught his pajamas on fire and died as a result.  Needless to say I was stunned.  Needless to say I NEVER got very close to that fire...no matter how cold I got that night.  It's a warning I never forgot.

The Bible contains many warnings...way more than the infamous TEN that the world has done all it can to hide.  But like all warnings, they're not much good if they stay hidden or remain unread and/or unheard...or unheeded.

Death itself is a warning.  A reminder that tomorrow is not promised and today is all you have to work with.  And that YOU were given a day that someone else wasn't given.

James 4:13-14 Look here, you who say, “Today or tomorrow we are going to a certain town and will stay there a year. We will do business there and make a profit.” How do you know what your life will be like tomorrow? Your life is like the morning fog—it’s here a little while, then it’s gone.

(to be continued)