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Weekly e-Gram for members and friends of Dublin Community Church

February 3, 2012


End of the year reports. Beginning of the year reports. Annual Meeting Reports.

They are all important. I diligently work on them so that the entire congregation (and I) can get a picture of where we have been and maybe where we are headed. But, I am ready to be done with reports.

So I am especially glad to see that we have the Corn Hole Tournament. No reports. No thinking. Just swing the arm and throw a corn bag. Let the corn dust linger in the air and count your or your opponents’ points. Eat chili before or after your match and prepare for the Super Bowl later in the day.

I have to wonder if this actual game of Corn Hole is viewed as quite revolutionary in its simplicity by our kids and grandkids. This Sunday we will be throwing actual corn bags at actual Corn Hole boards. We’ll get actual points and actually win or lose. Nothing virtual about it. There is no virtual corn dust in the air, it is actual. We have about 32 teams and when we pack them in the Goodwill Room with its low ceiling we may have people with actual sweat. No computers. No electronics except for the electricity to power the crock pots which hold the chili for the Chili Cook-Off. We’ll even have some actual winners of the Chili Cook-Off.

No Wii devices where we simulate tossing corn bags with virtual scores and points.  This is old school stuff.

I begin to wax nostalgic about my youth when we used actual balls and bats to play actual ball games. Even in its more simple moments we would have plastic whiffle balls and bats and play whiffle ball in our driveways. You would actually pitch and catch and swing and hit things; like the ball or house windows or passing cars. Seems so long ago. I never thought those days would seem old-fashioned and from a time-long-ago.

I remember my Mom telling me about when she was a little girl and they lived out in the country and grandpa would trap muskrats (I have no idea why. It was Lima, what more can I say?). She said that one time she played with the dead muskrat all day. I suppose times were tough in the Depression, but that takes it to a new low. Grandpa told me that he was a kid; he would find an old rusty wheel in a field and roll it around the neighborhood for days on end. This was in the early 1900’s. Obviously life did not evolve much in Lima from the turn of the century through the Depression… rusty old wheels to dead muskrats. Still, I salute my Mother and Grandfather. They lived in an actual, not virtual, world.

All those reports I have generated lately have been in the virtual world of computers, and so it is especially good to re-join the actual world via a simple Corn Hole Tournament. It may not be as “earthy” as that of my Mother and Grandfather, but considering what they played with in their actual childhoods, I can be grateful that corn bag dust is the worst of my actual encounters.

Peace, Rev. Bob Tussing

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