For The Truth

Wednesday, June 06, 2007


We are on our way to the Southern Baptist Convention, and we are excited about the time to come. It will be a time of fellowship with far-flung friends and planning for upcoming work for the Kingdom of God and His glory. I wish that I could say that our trip has been uneventful as yet, but alas, such is not the case. Aside from not getting out the door in the target optimum time (a norm I should be used to), and starting off right smack in the middle of DC rush hour traffic, even considering the stress of unforeseen (and costly) brake trouble; far and away the most traumatic experience thus far on the trip (and we’re at the start) was entering the BK Lets-Insult-Your-Intelligence Zone. Now don’t take me wrong, I like Burger King, its one my favorite fast food joints. I love the taste of their burgers and no matter how posh the restaurant, I like Burger King’s chicken sandwich better than any other. I like it even more than Chick-fil-A, which is far cleaner and has better atmosphere. (It must be some chemical BK puts in their food that makes me crave it so.) The BK in Ruckersville seemed the perfect oasis for our dinnertime needs. Normally we stick to using the drive thru, but I had to use the facilities and thus entered, unbeknownst to me, the BK Lets-Insult-Your-Intelligence Zone. The little saying on the door by itself was quaint, even Southern, or at the very least country. It states, “C’MON IN.” How cute. In smaller type I am urged to “Eat Up;” a little less cute, but O.K. Then after playing hopscotch to maneuver over who-knows-what was smeared on the restroom floor, I am assailed by a sign on the mirror above the sink that states, “Check Your Look.” Now don’t they know that the kind of guys they are appealing to with that lingo do not need to be told to pose in the mirror? The sign, assuming they can even read it, should state “Wash Yo Hands,” or maybe even “Flush Da Commode, Clean Up, Mama Don’t Liv Here, an Wash Yo Hands.” So, I get our food and on the way out, must endure one final assault. The sign as I exit says, “BUH’BYE. You Out?” Now I know that our society, with the assistance of our public education system, is spiraling into the cesspool of ignorance, but do we have to announce it like a dinner call for swine? (Just for clarification, I would liken that assistance to an axe being laid to the root of a tree.)

Anyway, the food was fine, I hope it was more sanitary than the restroom.



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