Monday Morning Rant 47

Somebody finally came up with a simplistic logo I can support. As predicted, when the guys in Washington decided that some commitment to solving our energy crisis on our own would be productive, the price of gas started to drop. As more governmental types jump on that bandwagon, I further predict a continued reduction in the price at the pump.

You have to love the thought and the picture. It says all that needs to be said.

It bears repeating

I am an old man. I repeat myself. It comes with the territory. If you have read this before, be patient and re-read it and then rejoice with me.

Twenty-five years ago, I was struggling to rebuild my life and with God’s help had about three years of sobriety. I was traveling nation wide at the time, working fairs and festivals, and my son and I had started a business in Houma, Louisiana. I contacted my first wife (a saint, by the way) and asked if I could have our daughter travel with me for a couple of weeks.

Jenny was about eleven at the time and I was thrilled when her mother gave the consent necessary for the trip. Jenny came from her home in Las Vegas and we connected in Illinois. We worked a “truck show” in Byron, Illinois, spent the Forth of July on the beach near Michigan City, Indiana watching fire works and continued east. Over the course of the next ten days, we had a fabulous time together and wound up in Washington, DC where I gave her a primer in America’s history.

We lived on peanut butter, bologna and Ho-Ho’s; made necklaces and earrings for Dad out of candy strung on elastic; and, most important just did Dad/daughter stuff. She still talks about it and I still remember the joy of it.

Finally, the time came to drop her off at LaGuardia in New York and send her back home to Nevada with a heart full of memories and a suitcase full of dirty clothes. My next show was another truck event high in the Helderberg Mountains above Albany, New York. I was early for the event and after I was set up, I had time to wander about the sub-Alpine scenery. Perched on a rock amid the scrub pines, I sought God to acknowledge his hand in my recent experience and thank Him profusely for His role.

While I was at it, in the course of my one-sided conversation with God, I expressed through the momentary return to normal life, the realization that I needed a normal, God fearing woman and asked for his assistance to locate one. That evening, the show commenced for the weekend and I continued peddling my wares in that delightful setting.

The following week I made my way to Shinhopple, New York for a blue-grass festival on the left branch of the Delaware River. My set up faced the stage across about two hundred yards of open meadow. On Saturday morning, folks dragging blankets, lawn chairs and coolers started to occupy the empty space and the opening acts had begun their performance. The weather, sunny, calm and 70º was perfect and a few folks started to come over to inspect my wares. As I looked out over my display I noted a smallish, attractive woman making a bee-line for my location.

When she arrived she looked over the American Indian jewelry very carefully as we exchanged friendly conversation. She settled on a pair of inexpensive turquoise earrings, paid, and we continued to talk. And talk we did for about the next two hours until she thought her friend might be missing her. Before leaving, she invited me to come over and share some of the carrot and celery sticks she brought along.

Later, the wife of a fellow vendor watched my space and I located the space where the carrots and celery lurked. We continued the conversation we had started earlier and it continued for another hour or two. I then returned to my spot and the lady who watched it had done a great job, sold a bunch of stuff but thought I had gone off and died. I remarked, “No, I have just been interviewing my future wife.” By then, there was no question in my mind that God had delivered, as promised, my future. It was just up to me to furnish the petty details.

Toward evening, she returned and reluctantly reported she had responsibilities at home with her teenage daughter and had to leave. I then proposed we have dinner together on Monday evening after the show. She quickly accepted and recommended a nearby camp ground and promised to make reservations for us. Dinner for two in Oneonta, followed by more exchange of life histories, followed by ice cream at Howard Johnson’s, followed by yet more sharing until 4 am. followed by an invitation to dinner at her house the next evening.

We were both overcome with the realization that we would indeed be married, live out our lives together, and that God would bless us both in our endeavor. The following year on July 21, 1984, Elder Joe Masek, of the Binghamton RLDS, solemnized our commitment in the backyard of a lifelong friend of the bride. Somehow, the best man managed to lose his shoes on the flight from Louisiana and a neighbor’s cat was present in all the ensuing photos. Nothing really mattered since God was present along with many well wishers and family.

Neither Jan, nor I, question for a second the role which Almighty God has played in our lives and in our marriage. We mutually acknowledge His presence, not only in the formation of our relationship, but also in His continued presence in support and comfort in the occasional trials we have faced since. Throughout He has enabled us to face our life together with a sense of humor and the awareness that “that which God has brought together, let no man put asunder.”

Mrs. Moon, on this auspicious occasion, I thank God for you and reaffirm, I love you.

In His abiding love,

Cecil Moon