oklds

Because root beer floats taste better with cheeseburgers and fries than just plain root beer.

I find myself in need of a videographer for a project in the eastern Colorado/western Nebraska area, for approximately 2 weeks, perhaps as long as 2 months. Found one...

So, one day the Bishop decided to go and visit an elderly widow member who hadn't been in Church for a while. He rounded up a few Missionaries to show them the ropes', and went on over. When they arrived, the Missionaries proceeded to snack on while the Bishop counseled the 'wayward'

So, one day the Bishop decided to go and visit an elderly widow member who hadn't been in Church for a while. He rounded up a few Missionaries to show them the ropes', and went on over. When they arrived, the Missionaries proceeded to snack on a bowl of peanuts the woman had sitting on the living room table, while the Bishop counseled the member. She told him there was no problem, just that she had been feeling poorly, but would be back that coming Sonday. Relieved and gratified at a job well done, the Bishop turned to leave, and noticed that the Missionaries had eaten every single one of the old widow's snacks. The Bishop and the Missionaries all apologized profusely, and promised to go immediately and get her some more. She replied, "That's okay, Bishop. Ever since I lost all my teeth, all I can do is suck the chocolate off of them anyway."

I am sorry. I posted this in the wrong place - it had absolutely nothing to do with the thread's subject matter. I apologize.

When my Family go Baptized, my 11-yo Daughter asked the Mission President during her interview, "How long would the Baptism take." He told her probably 45 minutes to an hour, since there were going to be a lot of people there. She came out of the office visibly shaken, and ran to her Mother and hugged her. When she started weeping and informed my Wife that she could not get Baptized, Tammy led her into one of the classrooms to find out what was wrong. She returned within 1 minute, barely able to control herself, and ran outside into the parking lot. I assumed there was something seriously wrong, and followed her outside where she had erupted into gales of laughter. It seems my Daughter didn't think she could hold her breath underwater for 45 minutes, let alone a whole hour.

In August 2013, my son Alan had been invited to church by Abby, a girl from his school, and he asked me if we could go on Wednesday night. Not being much for any specific religious sect (I despised them all equally), I reluctantly agreed and asked him what Church. I knew I had a couple of Mormons way back up the Family tree, but I didn't know much about them otherwise. But I didn't really object, and I went mainly to get a look at the type of girls my son liked (When I saw this one, the phrase "swinging for the fence" came to my mind). That was on 8/21/13; I got a copy of the Book of Mormon and took it home to read. By Saturday night, I'd read enough to be absolutely fascinated, but found a lot of terminology hard to understand. So on Sonday I took my whole Family to see if we could find someone to give us more information. Out in the hall, I collared two young men with badges declaring them to be "Elder George" and "Elder Zerkle". They didn't look very elderly to me, but I decided to play along; I asked them if they would mind stopping by our house sometime and explaining some passages in the Book of Mormon to me and my family. There were 25-30 people standing in the hallway chatting, waiting for Sacrament service to start, and they all went instantly silent from shock. It was like those old EF Hutton commercials, "When EF Hutton talks..." I thought maybe I had overstepped some sort of doctrinal boundary, so I offered to pay them for their time and gas if they would only come over and answer my questions. A brother Kronk saw the look on my face, clapped me on the back, laughed and informed me that the process usually worked the other way around. "The missionaries usually go out to people's homes and tried to get them to come to Church. We're not really used to people coming into the Church and trying to get the Missionaries to visit their homes." Before service, another fellow introduced himself as "the bishop" (emphasis on the lower case - a VERY low-key individual) and asked me what I did for a living. I had been to a lot of churches, and introductions to the big shot were inevitably followed by admonitions to come back, get saved, put more money in the plate, etc. Not this guy; he really wanted to know about me and my Family. When I told him I was an engineer, I found out that he was also and had used a tool which I had designed. We stood there blocking traffic and talked engineering while the rest of the congregation flowed around us. My Wife joked later, "You need to stay away from that guy. When you get together with another one of you, it's like throwing gasoline on a flame. Trying to get either of you back into the real world is nearly impossible." That was the OKC 5th ward's introduction to the Judd family. Over the next 94 days, I put those Missionaries and a few others (Thompson, Gleave, Holbrook) through a litany of trials and tribulations, ending (or maybe beginning) with myself, my Wife, my Son and my Daughter being Baptized, one-right-after-another, on 11/23/13. I and my Wife were Baptized by Bishop Wardlow, whom I outweigh by at least 40 pounds. Bless their hearts, not one of the 250-some people at our Baptism laughed when he had trouble getting me back up out of the water...

Why is there an interstate highway in Hawaii?