Spin, spin. Spin the black circle!

You may have noticed my blog entries becoming somewhat few and far between lately. There is a perfectly logical explanation for this. I've been spending my evenings trapped in a room with several well-meaning, yet panicking, folks who rant and rave about deficits, consultants, funding, and pies for hours on end.

Several months ago the congregation at my church all got together and thought it would be really funny to nominate me to the Board of Directors. They extended the joke even further by voting me in and giving me a three-year sentence ... I mean term. Damn them! Damn them all!

Since that time I've received a crash course on life among the powerful. It's a strange existence filled with laptops, charts and panicking. Lots of panicking. You might have read somewhere that our national economy is, um, struggling. Well, the powerful ones on the board have decided to lift a giant middle finger at the fledgling economy and raise its budget to unheard of levels. I would love to mock this decision, but I actually agree. Our church has grown in recent years from a quaint little operation where volunteers take care of everything and everybody knows your name (like Cheers!), to a legitimate business that needs a professional staff. Right now we have one minister and one office worker trying to meet the needs of a congregation approaching 300. Our poor office worker is desperately trying to walk on water and part the Red Sea at the same time. So, yeah, she needs some help. And fast.

Anyhoo, to accomplish this ambitious budget the board has decided to bring in a consultant. Someone to leap tall buildings in a single bound and reveal the identity of the fifth cylon. This prodigal son held a workshop a couple of weeks ago where he espoused brilliant ponderings such as, "You guys need to raise more money," and, "No, seriously. You guys need to raise more money!"

So last night the powerful ones crowded into our panicking room to unleash some level 5 panic! It was a sight to behold. These meetings always leave me somewhat bewildered. You see, I don't exactly fit into our "Go Gadget Go!" culture. Picture everyone speeding in sports cars on the interstate while yacking on cell phones and texting with their spare foot. In this analogy you would find me chugging along on the side of the road in a rusty tractor, typing Morse code and sipping Coca Cola out of a glass bottle.

During the onslaught of panicking, I apparently fell into a trance where I either volunteered, or was volunteered, to fulfill about 3,000 different tasks. You might recall that I intend to pursue ministry in a couple of years. The good news? I have the full support of my minister, Elizabeth. She has agreed to take me under her wing. The bad news? I am now her minion, and completely at her mercy.

There was a point during the meeting when our President announced a few particularly powerful names to serve as co-chairs of our fundraising committee. These are all well-respected, wealthy and accomplished individuals. Elizabeth chimed in with, "I would also like to appoint David Ward, the unemployed former sports writer who has absolutely no clue about money to also serve as a co-chair on this committee." I have to give our President credit. She may have failed at concealing her shock, but she did hold back any mocking laughter. Good for her!

I also agreed to help call everyone at our church with the exciting news that, "We're meeting with a financial consultant again in a couple of weeks, and you have the exciting opportunity to help badger people for money. Lucky devil, you!"

I believe I am also the board liaison to a search committee seeking to hire a full-time director of religious education. I believe the fact that Michael is currently enrolled in the preschool class qualified me for this position. I've never been a liaison before. Sounds French.

I think I also agreed to wash everyone's car and clean the toilets. I can't remember. It's all a blur.

Anyway, I'm sitting here blabbing away on this blog and desperately trying to avoid the 30 or so emails I've received since last night's panic session. I know that eventually I'll run out of things to write about, and I'll have to plow through the old inbox. It wouldn't be so bad if every ... single ... email didn't contain 10-page attachments filled with numbers and charts and gobbledy-gook.

Oh wait! I have something else I can write about (phew!). After checking out my lounge act last month, Elizabeth has decided to punish other churches and force them to endure my "Starrr Warrrs" routine. Plans are in the works for a possible appearance in Pocatello. That would be a nice homecoming of sorts, since April and I graduated from Idaho State University during my former life. Elizabeth is also trying to punish other unsuspecting churches around the state. So stay tuned for that.

Now, I just need to decide between breaking out the diamond-studded Neal Diamond jumpsuit, or rocking the Axle Rose spandex shorts and ripped football jersey.

Which would you pick kiddies?

- Dave