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The Marks Post: Getting rid of a bomb

In the 1966 motion picture Batman, Adam West, as the Caped Crudader, says what is probably my favorite line from any movie. Batman finds a bomb and wants to throw it into the ocean. While running along the boardwalk with the bomb, he says, “Some days, you just can’t get rid of a bomb.”
To me, I think of that line every time I have a day where nothing seems to go right. I had one of those days last Friday.
The day started with me waking up at 5:30 a.m. for morning mass. After I woke up, I noticed my khaki pants still smelled the smoke and the grease from the supper the night before. I put the pants in the washing machine and went back to bed. When I took the pants out of the dryer, I noticed there was a hole in the crotch. I could not put on my blue jeans because I found a similar hole earlier in the week. I was down to either my black or navy blue pair or pants, but that created a problem of what shirt to wear because I had already worn all my light color shirts. I couldn’t wear my grey Oakdale Warrior pullover because I was going take pictures at Oberlin’s Media Day that afternoon. So, I broke out my old Friday purple shirt from the Clerk of Court’s office with the same black pair of pants.
I got to the office and saw that some of the work I had done before I left Thursday did not save. I had to hurry and get that done again because it was for the B section of the paper that had to be sent to press by 11 a.m. As the day went on, I was in one of those moods where it was just one of those days. But, I managed to get the A section done and sent to press in time for me to head to Oberlin. I met our new sports stringer for Allen Parish, Gary LeLeux, at the Spring Market in Mamou, and he followed me to Media Day.
On the way, I realized I had sent the pages without changing the poll results on the front page. I called the office and told them to call the press because I was going to send a revised front page after I got back from Oberlin.
Everything was going well at Media Day, except for the fact the camera didn’t work meaning we had to take cell phone pictures, until I knelt down on one knee to take the picture of the trainers. My pants ripped in the crotch, so I had to take all the football pictures with a hole in my pants. I stayed in the same position on one knee and felt pretty confident my shirt tale was long enough to cover the hole. But, by judging from smirks on some of the football players’ faces, I’m not too sure. After all the pictures were taken, I stood up, and the hole ripped some more. First thing I thought of was, “Some days, you just can’t get rid of a bomb.”
When I got back in my car, I realized the office would still be open when I would get back and I would have to hide my ripped pants.
On the way back home, I noticed some things along the road did not look familiar. What happened was I missed the turn off of La. Hwy 26 onto La. Hwy 104. By the time I made this realization, I was about two miles from Elton. I took the back roads home from Basile by going through Duralde, but I turned too soon and passed down some narrow road to get back on the road I was supposed to be on. First thing to come to mind was Julie Roberts song “Break Down Here,” but, in a way, it all worked out because everybody was gone by the time I got back to the office with my ripped pants.
While I’m airing dirty laundry, a similar thing happened on my way to Vinton last year for the Oakdale football game. I stopped on the way at the Dairy Queen drive-thru in DeQuincy. After I got back on the road, I spilled mustard and ketchup on my khaki pants. I tried using a napkin to get the condiments off of my pants, but it was just making it worse. There was no way I could go cover the game like that.
I stopped at the Wal-Mart in Sulphur to buy a new pair of khaki pants and went put them on in the bathroom. The pants were a little snug when I put them on, but I could not go exchange them because I already took all the tags off. I bent down to grab my shoe, and the pants ripped in the crotch. I ended up going to the game like that and stood up the whole time in the press box.
On both occasions, I had a choice to make. I could have put my head in the sand and given up. I could have cried and asked why was all this happening to me. But, I got back up and continued on my way. That is what Jesus calls us to do anyway. We are called to pick up our crosses daily and to follow Him. Sometimes those crosses come in the form of ripped pants in the crotch. Also, whenever you feel like you can’t get rid of a bomb, just offer it up as a sacrifice.

Evangeline Today

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Ville Platte, LA 70586
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