Rainey Blogs on Some Days

I feel so retro sitting in the Newark Airport waiting to board a flight to Louisville to meet Marcia and the girls. People playing with electronic gadgets and listening to music or podcasts all around me. I almost brought my CD player, but that also would have seemed old fashioned, so 1990s, carrying around a Sony Walkman in these iPod days. But I could have listened to NPR this morning if I had it. Something else to mention--I'm writing on a steno pad! Who writes on a steno pad in this day and age? I should have a laptop computer, but I'm using a steno pad with a ball point pen, just like George Washington probably did when he wrote. This is so embarrassing. People sometimes look at me funny when I do this. "What's he doing?" they probably say to themselves. "I'll bet he's writing a letter to his mother." Or they think, "Why is that guy taking notes on paper in an airline terminal? I wonder if he's a terrorist, taking notes on how

In a close vote, the United Pentecostal Church (UPC) adopted the cardinal as the denominational bird over the flamingo during its annual conference in Richmond , Virginia . While many important issues were discussed at the conference, including revising its doctrinal statement to adopt footwashing as an ordinance of the church and to establish a formal position on homosexuality, the bird debate seemed to awaken a sleeping Greater Richmond Convention Center filled with UPC pastors from around the country. Debate centered around whether the flamingo , which stands on one leg, or the cardinal , with its bright, red plumaged males and its drab, brown feathered females, most closely reflected the values of the denomination. Observers said the comments of the Reverend Larry Guenther of Cedar Rapids , Iowa , characterized the sentiments of the majority who voted in favor of the redbird. Folks, look around the room here. Look at our men, our ministers, with their mousses and hair oils and br

I walked my dog today. His name is Rover. I know, it is an ordinary dog name, but I wanted something traditional for him. I mean, he is a dog, so why give him some avant-garde name for goodness’ sake? He is a Yorkshire terrier. I do not even know what that is . At least that is what I tell people. I have a dog leash that I bought at the Duquoin State Fair in 1975 and I found it in the attic last year. I guess I did not want to go around with a Bergen Record newspaper bag to pick up Rover’s poop—and a New York Times bag would have been a little hoity toity for me—so an invisible Yorkshire terrier on a stiff, fake dog leash seemed right, and there are no ordinances in Leonia requiring us to pick up invisible dog poop. As I was out walking Rover this morning, I saw one of the softball moms who lives two blocks away. She told me he was a cute dog, but then her dog got a little aggressive with Rover and I had to pull Rover back and tell her to have a nice day. We walked by the home sale