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From the Editor

By R.D. Hohenfeldt

Managing Editor

T.S. Eliot declared April “the cruelest month” in the long, boring and aptly titled poem “The Waste Land,” which ranks second to Silas Marner as the biggest waste of my time in high school English. That’s just my humble opinion; you can disagree and I won’t be angry.

Indeed it has been a pretty cruel month in the past. Both the American Revolution and the War for Southern Independence began in April. Lincoln was assassinated in April. The San Francisco earthquake was in April. The Titanic sunk in April. It was in April that Janet Reno and Bill Clinton ignored the First Amendment freedom of religion and ordered the attack on the Branch Davidian cult near Waco , Texas , resulting in a bunch of dead children and their parents. A couple of years later, some right-wing nuts got their revenge in April by blowing up a federal building in Oklahoma City, also killing a whole bunch of people. The Columbine high school massacre was in April.

Let’s change the subject from war and death to something better, something like jokes and poetry, for April is also National Humor Month and National Poetry Month. I don’t know who declared it to be so; maybe it was Congress.

In honor of National Humor Month, here’s a joke I heard recently: “Two good old Ozarks boys are drinking coffee at a diner when one says to the other, “My wife gave me the best birthday present I could ask for yesterday, a brand-new, top-of-the-line hearing aid.” The other old boy says, “What kind is it?” And the first one looks at his watch and says, “It’s 2:30.”

Well, it’s kind of funny.

In honor of National Poetry Month, here’s a poem I recently wrote in honor of the April 1 Vichy volunteer fire department benefit dinner:

The doctor says I’m way too fat
and need to be much thinner.
He put me on a diet and said to eat
no more than a tiny fishin’ minner.
And I know the Bible says the pork-pig
is good only for a low-down pagan sinner,
But I'll always think the sweetest words in English
are: “All-you-care-to-eat whole hog sausage dinner.”

If you don’t think that’s pure poetry (and you really shouldn’t) I’ll just encourage you to continue reading this month’s issue where somewhere you’ll find some mighty fine poetry, better than anything either I or T.S. Eliot could come up with. I’ll also encourage you to pick up a pencil and piece of paper and write your own poem and send it to me.

This April, we’ll also be celebrating Easter, a movable holiday that sometimes falls in March. I’ve never understood how to figure out the date of Easter. I don’t know who decides this, maybe Congress. I guess I could look it up, and maybe I will someday, though not today, for it is not that important to me.

What is important is the reason for celebrating Easter. Like every Sunday, it is a day to commemorate the resurrection of Jesus Christ, our Lord and Savior. The church (I guess it wasn’t Congress, after all) hundreds of years ago picked out the springtime to have a special celebration of Jesus’ coming back to life. Spring was the time the pagans celebrated rebirth of the earth, so the church thought it would fit in just right. The same thing happened with Christmas, the pairing up of a pagan holiday with a church celebration.

Now because of that pagan connection, there are some churchgoers who think it is ungodly to celebrate Christmas or Easter, but especially Christmas. They make a truly major big deal out of it, and not celebrating these holidays makes them feel super-righteous.

I look at it this way: I used to be an unbeliever, and now I’m a believer in Jesus Christ as my Lord and Savior. I’ve been redeemed. The church did the same thing with pagan holidays; they “redeemed” them, so to speak, and gave them new meaning and purpose.

Don’t misunderstand me now. I am not holier-than-thou. In fact, I’m quite sure that I am unholier-than-thou. I do not claim to be a good person. I am pretty doggone evil. I talk rough, think lustful thoughts and am impatient. I am coarse and ill-mannered. My hair is not pretty. I usually need a shave. I expel gas frequently. I am offensive and lack basic social skills. You do not want the likes of me in your church, but don’t worry, you’ll probably never see me there. There’s only one church in all the land that I have found that accepts people of my ilk. It is wonderful country church, which I’ll not name, because I don’t want to embarrass the good folks who love that church. I attend Sunday School there fairly regularly; it is the high point of my week. If you don’t go to Sunday School anywhere but would like to, I think they’d probably let you in, too. Call me or e-mail me and I’ll tell you the name of the church and you can meet me there for Sunday School next week.

Goodness, this column has gotten religious all of a sudden, and I don’t like that because, although I love the Lord, religion gives me the creeps. Also, this column is in danger of being as long and boring as The Waste Land and Silas Marner combined.

Go to church for Easter, thank Jesus for dying to cleanse you of your sins and for rising again to assure you of eternal life. Come back here to see me next month.--RDH  

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For the first two weeks of the month, the temperature here in the Ozarks was in the high 20s or low 30s every morning. It has warmed up, though, during this third week of the month, and the weather sorcerer says it's going to be nice for awhile.

Be warned, though, that we'll still have some frosty weather. I had a nice conversation with Mr. Yelton in the parking lot at Brown Veterinary Clinic a couple days ago, and he said there'll be frost in May, just as there always is in the Ozarks. That's why you've got to be careful about planting too early in the spring. People get anxious about planting tomatoes, and they wind up losing them. Bill Sands at Sands Farm and Home Center said eople were exasperated with him in early March because he didn't have tomato plants ready for them. Folks, that is way to early around here to put out your tomato plants.

Today, Wednesday, April 18, is beautiful. We've got wispy clouds in a light blue sky. The sun is brilliant. It's a good day to find a copy of The Ozarks Chronicle, find a sunny spot and a cup o'coffee and enjoy reading something down-home and uplifting.

The news in the newspapers and on television and radio is not so good.

Although I'm 53 years old and a man, I weeped a little this morning while watching Fox & Friends. They showed photos of some of the people killed on the Virginia Tech campus, listing the students' class year and hometowns. There were some professors shown, too, including the one fellow from Romania who was a Holocaust survivor.

I teared up because there was so much potential lost when those children died and so much mentoring left for those professors to do. All of those people loved somebody and were loved by somebody, and that love can't be adequately expressed now, because of the actions of a troubled young man.

I'm even sad for the killer. It's difficult for me to hate the mentally ill Korean student who murdered those people and then killed himself. He was somebody's son and grandson. He, too, had some potential that is lost now. Of course, if he had lived to be arrested, he would have, in my opinion, had to pay for his crimes with his own life.

May God have mercy on him, on his victims and on all of us who are here to live and work another day.

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