Chowder

I still have this funny memory from two decades ago. I gave a talk to a lovely group of little old ladies at a church. One of their members came up to me and said, “I’d come down to help you, but I can’t run as fast as I used to!”

It was funny trying to imagine one of our homeless friends chasing this little old lady down the street. 

I’ve been in a bunch of tense situations, but fewer than you might think.

One night I told someone to take a hike. I had given him a meal and a place to go, but he wanted to hang out and verbally bother some poor woman in the dispatch center. On his way out the door, he took a cup of chowder and splashed it on my black clergy shirt. Yuck. 

The next night I was told, “Pastor Rick, that guy who gave you a bad time last night? He’s not going to be a problem anymore.”

Yikes.