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    A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to My 40's
    A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to My 40's
    A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to My 40's
    Ebook133 pages1 hour

    A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to My 40's

    By Jon Richards

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    About this ebook

    From the author of “Why Church Sucks – And No One Really Wants to Go” comes a fresh and hilarious commentary on life, love, short-term memory loss, junior high embarrassment, hair-raising airline travel, and the all-time favorite... substitute teaching a maniacal kindergarten class. You’ll lose track of how many times you say “you’ve got to listen to this one,” as story after story reveals the sidesplitting wit and waywardness of a man on a journey into mid-life.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherJon Richards
    Release dateNov 13, 2013
    ISBN9781310494369
    A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to My 40's
    Author

    Jon Richards

    Jon Richards is a sinner, a father, a brother, adventurer, lover of God and author. He resides with his two children in southwest Missouri. He is the founder of Sovereign Grace Revolution, a writing and speaking ministry of God's grace and truth. His blogs and stories can be found at SovereignGraceRevolution.com. To contact Jon for speaking engagements or questions or just to say hello, email SovereignGraceRevolution@gmail.com

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      Book preview

      A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to My 40's - Jon Richards

      The Honduras Event – Part I

      The Honduras Event –Part II

      Hoop Dreams

      Chevy Truck Month

      The One and ONLY Day I taught Kindergarten (Ever)

      Dude, Where’s My CAR?!!

      Every Lock That Ain’t Locked When No One’s Around

      The Walt’s Pizza Incident

      My Carbon Footprint Can Beat Up Your Carbon Footprint

      How Old AM I, Anyway?

      LOST: Still My All Time Favorite TV Show

      God Eats Potato Chips and The Holy Ghost Drives a Semi

      Irony

      Let Freedom Zing (and POW and BAMM)

      My New Weiner

      ‘Tis the Season for Anger Management

      The Sum of Small Fears – Part I

      The Sum of Small Fears – Part II

      Preface

      Although each of these stories and wonderings may be short, out of order and impractical to the theological or scientific mind, it’s high time for a laugh. We don’t laugh near enough in life. And I could use one. Or three. Or forty. Some of these stories are old and some of them are new. But don’t be afraid...I’ve changed the names of the innocent and have totally derided the guilty.

      Jon Richards – Bolivar, Missouri, 2013

      Wal-Mart... do they like... make walls there?

      - Paris Hilton

      I went to Wal-Mart today and saw a display that said Effortless Meals and it was full of sodas.........way to go Wal-Mart

      "Back before Wal-Mart, you used to have to buy a ticket to the County Fair to see a bearded woman"

      - Anonymous

      1

      A Wal-Mart-Free Day

      I haven't been subjected to a trip to Wal-Mart yet today. But it's early so I’m keeping my fingers crossed. I’m anticipating a Wal-Mart-free Tuesday. We’ll see what happens.

      I don't have anything against Wal-Mart as a corporation in particular; but I do have an adverse reaction to spending my own personal quality time in a sprawling retail complex filled to the brim with those who tread water at the lower end of the gene pool. Think I'm being unfair? Then you haven’t been to a Wal-mart in Southwest Missouri. Oh, and there's also the sinister Nazi overhead speaker thing. But we'll get to that.

      As a rule going forward, anytime I mention Wal-Mart in an unfair or derogatory light, rest assured I have no lifelong quest to bring down Sam Walton's empire. From what I know he was a good man with a vision to always provide quality products at low prices. Always. Live Well. All that stuff.

      I have no political agenda based on their hiring or firing practices of legal or illegal aliens, how much they charge for prescription medication or why they can't seem to find it in their black hearts to keep my favorite wheat waffles in stock. No, it's the sordid clientele of our beloved local Wal-Mart Supercenter that are my concern. Also, the fact that I find myself there as a member of said clientele on a regular basis should give cause for concern on your part. I mean, if I hate it so much why do I frequent the place? What end of the gene pool do you swim in Jon? Good questions. I'm glad you asked.

      As with most of us who are so fortunate to live in this great country, I am a professional consumer. I also have two young children. They consume stuff. They're involved in things. I work full time and travel quite a bit. I also consume stuff. I too am involved in things. Needless to say we're very busy, and convenience sits on the throne of our lives in a few areas (hey, we're workin’ on it, ease up). We also live like less than a mile from Wal-Mart. That is a huge factor. Why make a list and visit the store once a week when you can hop in the car at any given moment and be at the mecca of discount retail in the time it takes to say Clorox bleach with Febreez? The town I live in is so unequivocally boring and small that, believe it or not, as much as I despise multiple daily trips to the place, sometimes WallyWorld does offer an element of entertainment (I will never, and I mean never say WallyWorld again. But I had to do it once just to put a bad taste in your mouth. From now on it will be referred to using our local jargon. It will be called Wal-Marts). I can't count how many times, after being greeted at the door by the over-friendly member of AARP, I've muttered "I hate this place, I'm so tired followed closely by oh LOOK, there's every single person I have ever met in this town all trying to check out in the Express Lane. I'm SO glad I only have a couple things to get so I can use the Self-Service Checkout."

      Then it happens. I fall victim to the subliminal messages that I swear are embedded in the annoying audio loop coming from the speakers insidiously positioned above every aisle of this seventy-acre shopping marsh.

      I came here for only two things...

      1) Toilet Paper

      2) Skim Milk

      Before I can even get my arms around the 48-Pak of Charmin, or Angel Soft, or Big-Fuzzy-Bear-Pooping-in-the-Woods Whatever-It's-Called toilet paper I have remembered seven more things I need, four things I don't need but just want to go check prices on, and now I can’t remember any reason why I need to go home. All because of some overhead music. What happened? Four minutes ago I couldn't wait to get out of this blue establishment and now all of a sudden I'm roaming the craft aisle with the enormous White Cloud ‘TP’ cube hoisted up on my shoulder like a ghetto-blaster and the gallon of skim milk freezing my fingers off. Surely there’s something at home that needs to be bedazzled!! By the way, men don't get carts for only two items. No we do not. Even if those items are a pool pump and a gun safe, (which amazingly WAL-MART HAS IN STOCK!), real men carry all their items. Even if the grocery juggling causes personal injury to ourselves and those around us. But why not spend a few minutes checking out the latest in Wal-Marts fashion? (See, you thought I wasn't going to remember to call it Wal-Marts, but I did).

      I don't know who created the audio loop for all the Wal-Marts (that time I had to, so as to use proper English) across the country, but seriously? Send something to Afghanistan or Pakistan and Uzbekistan or New Jersey with some subliminal messages in there so they'll stop flying stuff into our buildings in September.

      Great, now it just turned political.

      So when I finally meander to the More Than 20 Items checkout lane with my gun safe, pool pump, toilet paper, skim milk, crafts, arts, tool belt, and brown sugar and cinnamon pop-tarts, I'm comPLETELY exhausted, irritated, sweating and confused.

      Why oh why didn't I just get a CART!!

      Okay, so I exaggerate a little. I didn't get a gun safe. I don't even own a gun. But if I wanted one I could get one at Wal-Marts. They have those. They're across from the arts and crafts aisle right next to the hunting gear adjacent to the adult bicycles near the puzzles and games. See, I know exactly where they are because sometimes.....when it's an especially soupy-cloudy Wal-Marts experience, I find myself eying those handguns behind the glass as I limp by with my salad tongs and light-pole sealer (is there ANYTHING you can't buy at Wal-Marts?) Evidently everything but self-control and common sense.

      Then there's another topic...my short-term memory loss that causes me to frequently forget where I've parked my vehicle. This happens a lot. So when I walk out the doors into the freezing rain with my pool pump, Charmin, crab meat, hay barn shelving (when did I buy THAT?) and chest of drawers, I cannot for the life of me remember where I've parked because I huffed gas in high school. Yeah, that's right. And now for an abrupt ending because I'm tired and I have stuff to do.

      There is always more

      Airline travel is hours of boredom interrupted by moments of stark terror.

      - Al Boliska

      "People say there are delays on flights. Delays, really? New York to California in five hours - that used to take 30 years; a bunch of people used to die on the way there, have a baby. You would end up with a whole different group of people by the time you got there. Now you watch a movie and go to the toilet and you’re home."

      - Louis C.K.

      2

      The Honduras Event - Part I

      I looked up the word diatribe yesterday. I had to. A friend of mine used it in a sentence and I immediately had to make

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