When I was a child, my parents forced me to attend a succession of churches. First there was the Southern Baptist, followed by the Nazarenes, followed by the Pentecostals and finally the Free Will Baptist Church. During this period in life, as I have told you on many occasions, I disliked or rather loathed church attendance. But from time to time, preachers would announce that there would soon be a revival. The revivals were conducted by traveling evangelists. I do not ever remember them converting sinners who were roaming the streets of suburban St. Louis. The revivals were aimed at the church members to get them a lot more excited about church attendance. I always thought that the evangelists who conducted the revivals were hucksters. They were not so much interested in the church members going to Heaven as they were in getting their fee and moving on to the next church which would sponsor a revival.
But now we come to Pat Robertson who bills himself as a televangelist. This is a wedding of course between the words television and evangelist. I thought in my youth that the people who conducted the revivals were nothing more than hucksters or frauds. Now in my old age, my opinions have only hardened in that evangelists have a new medium, television, to reach the gullible.
For several years Pat Robertson has conducted a television program that appears, as far as I know, every morning. It is called “The 700 Club.” Where that name came from, I have no idea. But if he wishes to sue me because I have adapted a variation of that title for this essay, he would find that my assets are locked up in a blind trust. Old Pat will not realize what an adversary he has until he runs into a man who is entitled to say that his assets are in a blind trust. Pat is not dealing with somebody like Mr. Romney, because I can attest to the fact that my assets for the last seven years, such as they are, are in a blind trust.
But Pat Robertson has taken me a bit off course in starting this essay. The burden of this essay has to do with the fact that this is my 710th essay. I started writing essays, as you know, in an effort to repair the damage to my brain which had been caused by a stroke. That was back in 1997. Now, 15 years later, I feel a bit liberated. My compulsion is to turn events in my long life into essays. And of course, I am of the opinion that Pat Robertson, whom I believe is a zealot, will probably not sue me.
When I reached the 700 mark in my essay writing, I was unaware of it. As it turns out, the 700th essay written at this desk had to do with radishes and my luncheon with Charles de Gaulle. I wrote this as a fictional piece, but the more I think of radishes and Charles de Gaulle, I am of the opinion that perhaps it might really have happened. In any event, Kevin Shepherd, who keeps track of these sorts of things in running his website, has pointed out to me that the 700 mark has been crossed. As I have said, I write these essays because Shirley Morganstein of the Kessler Institute for Rehabilitation told me to do so. Shirley opened her own business years ago and has not told me to stop writing these essays. So I suppose they will probably continue.
We have a distribution list of about 20 or 25 people who receive these essays. They seem to like them, or at least that is what they tell me. Recently Kevin Shepherd built a website which makes distribution of the essays a good bit easier. I was greatly encouraged to learn that people browse around the website and sometimes run across my essays. One recent one had to do with “AWK und Stalies.” It is about my association with Al Kunberger, now unfortunately deceased. The bakery owned by his father sold day-old merchandise and called them “stalies.” As it turns out, one of the responses was from a browser who said in effect, “Al Kunberger was my grandfather.” If my essay writing brings pleasure to the browsers and regular readers, I am greatly gratified.
Whether the essay writing has done anything to repair my brain is a subject for my readers to determine. It may be that I have dedicated my efforts in writing these 700 essays for no good purpose. On the other hand, the comments of my friends who read these essays are of such a nature that I am encouraged to keep on writing them.
Now we are in the advanced stages of communications. My grandson, Kevin Shepherd, has established a website where people can read as much as they want of these essays. But beyond all of that, writing these 700 essays has kept me from stealing cars. As you know, Newark, New Jersey is the stolen car capital of the world. Writing these essays has kept me from stealing cars and taking them for joyrides. The fact that I have been blind for seven years really makes no difference. I have to write these essays to depress the urge to steal automobiles. In my 90 years, I did not steal automobiles on any occasion but I do not wish to take a chance.
So that is the story of my passing the 700 mark in essay writing. In my 700th essay, there was a situation in which Madame de Gaulle came from her kitchen in exasperation and said to her husband, Charles de Gaulle, “Now would you pass him the effing radishes?” That remark may have been fictional but I can think of no other fitting remark to end this essay as I head toward my 800th production.
E. E. CARR
October 27, 2012
Essay 710
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Kevin’s commentary: Speaking of Pat Robertson and religion, he very recently went on a news broadcast and defended the idea that the world was more than 6000 years old, much to the surprise of many viewers of the 700 club. I was impressed. Typing that, I realize it’s somewhat sad that I find something so easy and so obvious impressive, but hey. Check it out here.
And, for good measure, here’s an even better (read: cringe-inducing) clip where Pat Robertson talks about porn. It’s a winner.
More on topic, huge congrats again to Pop on so many essays. At time of publication he’s already passed 720 — well on his way to the big 800. I can’t wait to see him get there.