Christian Living

A DAY IN THE LIFE OF THE PERTURBE 3,0

by Charles (Chuck) Robey
06/21/23
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Like I mentioned before, in today’s uncertain topsy-turvy world in which we find ourselves, there is a concern, a growing need for a return to America’s past, the down-to-earth, simpler, faith-based, family-oriented lifestyle, with a bit of humor thrown into the mix.  Our first blog of this nature was of such a great success that the need to continue such blogs was evident. 

The cows are out of the barn. So, here goes anoither musing. Can I heard a big amen?

I have titled this repeat, A Day in the Life of the Perturbed 3.0. The reason I did so was to ask, does it denote a superior or more advanced version of my original concept? You be the judge. 

I know, here of late, I have been somewhat perturbed in my spirit. It’s like my wife often says, “Honey, (yes, she still calls me Honey), do you ever realize all your weird adventures seem to center around food?”

“Yes Dear, would you please pass the biscuits.”

I once heard it said, “The day always happens after breakfast.” If that be so, no wonder I get so perturbed. Getting my breakfast through a drive-thru window is like opening a beautifully decorated present and finding a strong-smelling peeled onion.     

The only good thought is that you don’t have to leave your car and it’s quick and convenient. However, you may have to wait in line and the food may not be as fresh as if you were eating at a restaurant. And what you order, may not be what you get.  I recently ordered a bacon, egg and cheese biscuit. When I got home, I had plenty cheese, and that’s it. Oh, I did learn to count and check sandwich wrappers. Obviously, I don’t take time to open the wrappers.  

Laying it all aside, come visit my dream world. Go, with me back to yesteryear, to those so-called “good ole days.” How can you do this? Very simple, just join me in my dreams.

“Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past.  See, I am doing a new thing! Now it springs up; do you not perceive it? I am making a way in the wilderness and streams in the wasteland.” (Isaiah 43:18-19)

Do you remember when grown-ups seemed glamorous? When you expected each day to be fun! When people said "thank you" and "please"? When Mom called you in for supper at dusk? When you played hide-and-seek?  When you climbed trees? When downtown seemed so far away? When you caught lightning bugs in a jar? When drugstores had fountains? When most kids had a bike? When you had a wish for each star? When no one had pedigreed dogs? When you read comic books by the ton? When you bought penny candy? When you drank chocolate milk from a glass bottle?

If these simple things bring a smile to your face, you were lucky to have such good times. It also means you're kind of old! If not, maybe your Papaw will share these times. You see I readily boast of being older than dirt, and twice as gritty. In fact, I'm old enough to have my Bible autographed, not only in life, but mostly in my dreams.

Yes, time was good growing up in the Fifties. Life was packed full of happy memories. I trust you will give out a little chuckle when visiting my latest dream. If you happen to be in my age range, you might.

I’m just worn out, not by age, nor by work. It’s just that these changing times have really taxed our religious faith. In my dreams, I am fighting an uphill fight, even in our dear old Bible college. It seems like I went to sleep in the fifties and awoke in a progressive Twenty-First century. If only I could return to the past for just a moment, just long enough to get re-energized. 

I should have seen it coming. My years seemed to be passing me by. My work at the Bible college was winding down. If only I could go home again, just for a moment in time. 'Please Lord, just one more wish." Then, it happened.

Another dream, are you still with me?  A dream of which most adjectives could not began to describe. It was the most uncommon dream I think I’ve ever had. It was kind of refreshing, I must say. I suddenly found myself sitting on the side of my big bright red-striped youth racecar bed, with my good luck Teddy Bear tucked by my side with only one eye and the missing stuffing.

OK, let me see. Yes, my toys happened to be all lying in place; my Rock'em Sock'em Robot, my award-winning Duncan Yo-Yo, my Mr. Potato Head, my Lego building blocks, my Play-Doh, my whistling music spinning top, and all the rest. They were all sitting there idly waiting to play again. But where’s my new Western Flyer bike? Oh, I recall, I had to leave it in the garage because of the muddy tires.

"Where is everybody; Dad, Mom and Sis? What am I to do?” I thought, scratching this old, bald head of mine in total bewilderment. Are you still with me, my friend?

That’s when the scene really became weird, as there came a knock on my bedroom door. When I answered it a most fitting character for the occasion stood there. He was dressed in tight-fitting blue jeans, a white T-Shirt and black leather jacket, collar pulled up, sporting the usual duck-tail haircut to match.

He was snapping his fingers as he walked. Not saying a word, he began to stroll around the room waving his arms, as if he was conducting a full-scale orchestra, and my old toys suddenly came to life.  It felt like my racecar bed was about to take off for the track with the wind blowing between its wheels. I could almost hear the engine roaring.

My musical top began to spin out a familiar tune. The Robots started boxing. Mr. Potato Head started searching for his missing eyes. The Lego blocks had formed into a large castle. And all the other toys fell right in line with their particular entertaining expertise.  What a sight to behold!

After all the commotion settled down, the unusual character calmly and quietly moved towards the door, still not saying a word. His final wave had the exact opposite effect on the toys. As he disappeared through the doorway, all of them settled back down in their original places. 

“Just what was this all about, this sudden dream, and where did this Fifties-generated character come from?" I wondered. (Hebrews 13:2)

Well, this most unusual dream, or whatever it was, wasn’t quite over, though. My trusty Teddy Bear suddenly came to life again.  Cuddling next to me, Mr. Teddy handed me a handwritten note, left behind by my most unusual visitor, and it contained a well-known Scripture verse.

“When I was a child, I spoke like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I gave up childish ways. (I Cor 18:11)

Before having a chance to hug Mr. Teddy in thanks, I awoke out of this most unusual dream. It was all over, but as I had caught the message behind the strange episode, I knew exactly what I needed to do.

AUTHOR’S POSTSCRIPT

Who was this strange 'Fifties character? What exactly do you think he meant by leaving the note? Oftentimes, human nature being what it is, we all tend to reminisce a little. Psychology has a down-to-earth explanation for this. It's named “vivid recall.” I often recall my youth in perfect living color, but sometimes I have to ask my wife what day it is.  

So, was this fictitious character a highly educated beloved Bible professor, dressed as a long-ago character? Was his particular note and Scripture passage applicable to the main thought of my dream? If so, it was a nice, realistic wake-up call. It surely got me thinking!  (Philippians 4:6-7)  

“Gray hair is a crown of glory; it is gained by living a godly life.” (Proverbs 16:31)

"Alexa, turn down the lights and tune in the '50’s radio channel, please, while I adjust my trusty man-cave recliner." If only I don’t snooze off again. "Honey, be sure and wake me in time for my favorite TV soap opera, please."

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