Playing In The Band

 

What a band.

I say again, Mr. Weir, even though your appalling shorts were hideous and distracted from the message, even so, rest in peace.

Yours,

LSP

Memorial Day 2025

Thunder rolled like the sound of distant guns, a young buzzard picked at the carcass of an armadillo in the street and there you have it. A Memorial Day morning stroll down the sylvan boulevards of Olde Texas to the Pick 'n Steal, aka Shamrock filling station, for coffee and Marlboro Light Shorts. 

There'll be hamburgers on the grill later with good time to be had for all. That said, let's not forget the purpose of the day. Here's a short prayer from the 1928 BCP:

ALMIGHTY God, our heavenly Father, in whose hands are the living and the dead; We give thee thanks for all those thy servants who have laid down their lives in the service of our country. Amen

May they rest in peace and rise in glory,

LSP

Funeral

 

The funeral went well, with cowboys and cowgirls from all over the country descending on Waco to pay their respects. Quite a thing. I told them a short story in the homily, which went something like this.

Bud didn't suffer fools gladly though he was always good to me, and sometimes in a tough way. A few years ago I was laid up in bed with a broken femur, thanks to a mad Arab, and called Bud on Saturday to see if he'd lined up a priest to cover the Mass on Sunday.

"No," he replied. "Why not?" I asked, "Because you're going to do it." Not wanting to seem like a wimp I rolled up to church on a walker the next day and said the Mass. S took a photo and made a meme; there I was at the Altar on a walker with him alongside. And the legend? "When an old cowboy bullies the priest into saying Mass with a broken leg." We laughed but he was right, got me moving again.

 

And that was Bud. What a good man. We had a lot of fun over the years, mostly at church, where we'd go back and forth, "I'm going riding after Mass," I'd tell him, "Huh. Don't fall off." Well, you can't take that lying down, "Don't worry, if things get tippy there's always the pommel thing." A moment of silence, "We call it a saddle horn."

Again, "Why don't you genuflect anymore?" I'd ask. "Because I don't have any kneecaps," straighteye stare, "Maybe you're just a dangerous Protestant." He was, you understand, a faithful High Churchman and a catholic Christian. To say nothing of an outstanding athlete and really good man.

But I won't bang on. Rest in peace, my friend, and thank you all for your prayers.

God bless,

LSP

Rest in Peace

 

Dallas' Veterans Cemetery is on the far west edge of town, past the Cockrell Hill ghetto zone and getting on to the strange no man's land of the mid-cities connurb. There it is, overlooking what was once a grand prairie, and I pulled up into "Lane 1" to celebrate my friend's funeral.

You've met him, here, as Veteran Crew Chief (VCC). He was a quiet and private man, never loud or boastful, and while he didn't suffer fools gladly he did a lot of good, helping people out quietly, not least his fellow veterans, comrades.

It's a curious thing, "giving the message" to a group of tough people who have done tough things, all under the heat of a Texan sky. What can you do but tell the truth, with a view to consolation, hope, and strength. "My enduring memory of R is this. He approached the Altar with great reverence and humility. I tell you, it humbled me, as a priest."

RS loved the Lord. Rest in peace and rise in glory.

God bless,

LSP

Rest In Peace Chief

 

Far-sighted readers of this inconsequential mind blog will remember him as "VCC," Veteran Crew Chief. Yes, the same man who confronted a crew of motorcycle hippies chancing it out of Austin and swimming in his stock tank. "Swim away," he told them, "But I'd be careful, it's pretty snaky. Man, you shoulda seen them run."

Before that he'd been with the EMU's, an experimental American/Australian unit, motto, "Get The Bloody Job Done." And they did, which weighed hard on him after retirement.Time on his hands, you see. I liked him a lot, what a good man, so it came as a shock to hear this afternoon that he'd died in a car crash outside of Alvaredo, hit by an 18 wheeler.

Please pray for the repose of his soul. Ronnie Storrs, rest in peace and rise in glory.

Requiescat,

LSP

To Meridian

 

I drove to Meridian this evening as the sun was setting to officiate at a funeral. It's a good drive, hilly for Texas with a western feel to it, I always think. You can imagine John Wesley Hardin riding this road before it was a road, the Horrell Boys, and more. Not that long ago, when you think on it.

Outlaws aside, the funeral went well, pretty much a country crew, and good people to boot. So the prayers were said and may the soul of Don, who liked to hunt and fish, rest in peace.

God bless,

LSP

All Souls

Pray for the souls of the faithful departed.

O God, the Creator and Redeemer of all the faithful:
grant unto the souls of thy servants and handmaids
the remission of all their sins; that through devout
supplications they may obtain the pardon which
they have always desired: through Jesus Christ our
Lord who liveth and reigneth with thee and the
Holy Ghost one God world without end. Amen.

May they rest in peace,

LSP

Never Forget

Never forget and by the same token remember the constant stream of pro-Muslim sentiment that gushed out of the White House right after the attacks and throughout the Obama years. 

Islam is a religion of peace, lied George Bush and the aptly named Hussein took up the mantra.

The same lie's being peddled today, albeit with a kind of desperation in the face of the Jihad savages' inability to stop themselves from running amok in Western towns and cities, to say nothing of their homelands. Well, they've been at it since Mohammed so why stop now?

But while it's important to know, name and fight the enemy, we also have to ask what we're fighting for. I'd suggest the freedom to drown ourselves in strip malls, concrete metrosprawls and gadgets isn't going to cut it. 

Here's LL, speaking to the theme:

we not only need to remember the attacks on the World Trade Center, the Pentagon and the aborted attack on the White House due to patriots who stood up to evil - and the attack on the US Consulate in Benghazi a year later, but we need to look at ourselves as a nation and on the unwavering course that we need to take into the future for ourselves and our posterity.

We need to look at ourselves as a nation, well said and in doing so ask what it is we stand for. For the Kingdom of God or some other thing? I'll leave you to reflect on the likely success of the latter. Sermon over.

May those who died 17 years ago today rest in peace.

LSP

Memorial Day 2018

On Memorial Day, we pause in solemn gratitude to pay tribute to the brave patriots who laid down their lives defending peace and freedom while in military service to our great Nation. We set aside this day to honor their sacrifice and to remind all Americans of the tremendous price of our precious liberty. President Trump

May those who gave their lives rest in peace and rise in glory.

God bless,

LSP

Rest in Peace

I said a Requiem for a friend and strong churchman today. He was a good man, and I don't say that lightly, who'd fought cancer for 4 years, a brain tumor no less. 

That in itself is something of a miracle and, if anything, the disease seemed to make his faith stronger. Sorry, problem of evil "philosophers." Also, until the very end he was able to live an active life; I thank God for that.

I can also say, with confidence, that he'd made his peace with God before he died, which is no small thing.

So, may JA rest in peace and rise in glory. And all you many heathen that read this lighthearted blog, reflect on this. What god do you worship and what hope does it give or offer you.

The world, the flesh? With no thought for eternity? And what comes after those two objects of adoration. Oh yes, the Devil.

I'll resist the temptation to refer you to John Podesta and the ravening elitocracy that seeks to devour the whole world.

May the souls of the faithful departed rest in peace.

Sure and certain hope.

LSP

The Exorcist Dies. Rest in Peace, Gabriel Amorth

Fr. Gabriel Amorth, Rome's chief exorcist, has died at the age of 91. Ordained in 1951, Amorth performed an estimated 70,000 exorcisms and has been attributed with revitalizing the ministry of deliverance throughout the world.

According to Spanish theologian, Fr. Jose Antonio Fortea, “His strong, vigorous voice spoke to millions of people about the action of the devil. He alone, one person, managed to revitalize the ministry in one country and then his influence reached everywhere in the Church."

Amorth was explicit in his belief that the devil was active in politics and even the Vatican itself. He was also convinced that a culture which had turned away from God would soon be "admonished" by Him:

“We have forgotten God! Therefore, God will soon admonish humanity in a very powerful manner, He knows how to remind us of His presence.”

As well as fighting evil in the spiritual sphere, Amorth was no stranger to fighting it in the temporal. He was awarded the Medal of Liberation for his service against the Nazis as a partisan in World War Two.

May he rest in peace,

LSP

9/11 in Memoriam

It was a somber morning, for me at least, and we prayed for those who lost their lives in the 9/11 attacks, and continue to do so. I'll spare you my thoughts on the matter but Lincoln's words seem appropriate, via LL:

It is for us the living, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us -- that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion -- that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain -- that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom -- and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.

Amen to that.

LSP

Dust to Dust

There was a burial this morning, out in the country and the hot Texan sun. While we were waiting for everyone to arrive I talked with one of the gravediggers. He had a shamrock tattooed on his wrist and I asked him if he was Irish.

"Yes sir, I am," he replied, sounding entirely Texan, "I used to have red in my beard, but now it's grey." We had something in common. "My hair used to be brown, "I told him, "Now look at it." The gravediggers thought that was funny and stomped about laughing.

What can I say, ashes to ashes, dust to dust, but let's not forget the sure and certain hope in the resurrection. After the burial was over and everyone was leaving, an elderly gentleman told me he'd shot five Cottonmouths in the last few weeks, but he hadn't seen a rattler.

RS, rest in peace and rise in glory.

LSP

When The Man Comes

One of our churchmen died early today of a heart attack. It was sudden and a shock; we'd been talking only yesterday and he seemed in excellent health, promising to bring some quail to Mass this evening. "You might want to bring a small cooler!" he said, and that's what I was getting ready to do when I received the news.

I got on the 'phone and one man, who I respect very much, said, "When the Man calls, you gotta go." There's no arguing with that.

My friend had been an explosives person in SE Asia and carried on the lifestyle into the '80s, finishing up in Uzbekistan before becoming a civilian contractor, most recently in Afghanistan. He'd retired here to raise quail, grow herbs and be midway between his children and grandchildren. 

He was a good man and a committed Christian.

LJ, rest in peace and rise in glory. You will be badly missed.

LSP

Lemmy, Rest in Peace

You once told me to ***k Off.

That is my claim to fame.

Rest in Peace.

LSP

So I Drove To Clifton

I drove out of Dallas for Clifton this morning, along an eerily deserted southbound I35. Northwards was a different story, as endless cars jammed into the metrosprawl.

Soon enough, I was heading down 219 into Clifton and I like that drive. The road winds along and then the ground dips away to reveal a westwards vista. My pictures never do it justice, but still, it's dramatic, especially if you're used to the endless flatness of significant parts of Texas. Everything looks weirdly lush and green at the moment; that will change soon enough.

Clifton is a well put together little town and worth the visit, if you're in the area. It has a decent Western Store, an excellent feed/tack store, and several restaurants and shops. It's not boarded up and reverting to nature, unlike other towns, which I won't name. 

But I didn't knock about the town, I just went to the funeral and paid my respects. The service was led by a young Lutheran pastor, who seemed a pleasant clergyman, although he kept saying, "Christ is Risen! Alleluia!" apparently in the hope that the mourners would respond, joyously, with, "He is Risen Indeed! Alleluia!" I know, it's Eastertide, but I could have done without that.

I drove back to Dallas and discovered that a rifle barrel had arrived, which was pleasing. My friends, who had been hunting in Clifton as I was at the funeral, managed to shoot a pig and some rabbits. Well done!

God bless,

LSP