Burning Bag of Cow Cookies

You always hear about kids that grow up in a small town getting bored because there is nothing to do and they end up trying to find things to entertain themselves. And usually that entertainment leads to getting themselves in trouble.

I grew up in a small town but I never felt we got ourselves in trouble because we were bored. I like to think we got ourselves in trouble because we were well, simply creative.

Either way, we often found our creative minds leading us astray and getting us into trouble but it also led us to a ton of fun along the way.

As was the night that once again found Kent, Jim and myself driving around town looking for ways to have a good time. But as the saying goes, when you have one teenage boy you have one brain, when you two teenage boys, you have half a brain, and when you have three you end up with a third of a brain. That seemed to describe us to a tee.

So there the three of us were driving around town in Kent’s Dodge Dart with only a third of a brain working when the ideal came to mind.

I am not sure who to blame or as we like to look at it, who to give credit to but one of us three geniuses came up with the idea of the Burning Bag of Crap. Not an original idea I must say. Since the invention of fire teenage boys have probably been putting bags of burning crap on doorsteps. You have heard the phrase that dates back to AD 64, “Nero played the fiddle while Rome burned” but you never heard how the fire got started. Well, I have my thoughts on that.

I am guessing you know the idea behind the burning bag of crap but if not this is it. You get a bag of manure, cow or horse or any other large farm animal will do. Then under the cloak of darkness you take the bag of goodies and place it on the porch right in front of the door. Then you light the bag with a match and then ring the doorbell and then run like hell. When the victim answers the door and sees the burning bag they immediately start stomping on the bag to put the fire out. Thus stepping in cow crap and everyone gets a big laugh out of it. Well, maybe the guy standing there ankle deep in cow crap doesn’t laugh that hard.

So now that we had decided on what we were going to do the next step was putting our plan into action.

Step one. Round up the needed supplies.

We made a quick stop to pick up some grocery bags at the local Foodtown Grocery Store, the place of Jim’s employment and also the provider of most of the supplies for our pranks such as eggs, tomatoes, etc. We also grabbed a book of matches before we headed out to get the “main” ingredient for this night of fun.

To get cow crap you have to find cows so we headed out of town to see if we could find any. One of the great things about growing up in a small town is that the countryside is not far from the city so needed props like cow turds are easily accessible.

After a short drive out of town we were able to find the needed supplies. Now came the first of many mistakes made by us this unforgettable night. We had the grocery bag, the matches, and now we had spotted a fresh cow patty but we didn’t have anything to scoop the patty into the bag. Since the phrase, “Come on you sissy, use your hands” didn’t persuade Kent to do the manly thing we decided to use a tire iron. (Changing the next flat tire had to be fun.)

After a little scooping and probably his share of gagging Kent finally bagged up plenty of the pungent nuggets. Why was Kent chosen to be to the scooper? Hey, Jim held the flashlight, and I had to, well, make sure a cow didn’t attack as they are so prone to do. So we each had our jobs to perform.

Step two. Find a victim.

To this day we are not sure why Wade Stefka’s house was picked. We liked Wade. We all played football together and had been friends for quite a while and we all admired Wade for his fly eating abilities. As I mentioned earlier we made several mistakes in our little crap burning shenanigan and as it turned out picking Wade’s house for our prank was an almost fatal mistake.

The Stefka house was in the center of town and it sat in the middle of the block on one of the main roads. It was the second house from the corner and all the front lawns on the block were elevated above the sidewalk by about three feet. So the victim was picked and like the Clutter family in the book, In Cold Blood the Stefka’s had no idea what was coming their way. And we had no idea what was coming our way either.

Step three. The plan of attack.

The plan was simple. Park the car down the street, get out, and then carry the bag of goodies to the front porch, light the bag, ring the door bell, run to a safe distance and watch the fun. And then laugh about it for years to come. But, it didn’t quite go like we planned it.

And this is when the mistakes stated pilling up really quick. First of all we parked the car WAY too close to the scene of the crime. Since earlier Jim and I had the easy job of keeping the eye out for attacking cows and flashlight holding we got the job of carrying the bag to the porch. As we made our way giggling and chuckling to the porch an extreme flaw in the plan occurred.

With this being our first time to try to pull this off we really weren’t sure of the burning time of the paper bag. So unfortunately for us we gave Kent the “light it up” command way too far from the front porch. Hey, did you know that paper grocery bags are highly flammable? We didn’t either. So about 2 seconds after Kent put the match to it, the bag was a towering inferno of fire and we still had about 20 feet to go to get to the door. Now, you might be setting there and thinking, “Hey dummies, drop the bag and leave.” Well folks, we may be dumb but we are not quitters!

So there we were, Jim holding one side of the bag and me holding the other trying to run without fanning the flames back in our faces but quickly enough so the bag didn’t burn down to our hands. Trying to keep this story clean enough for youngsters I won’t put in the words that flowed from our mouths as we made those last few steps to the front door.

We finally made it close enough to door to drop the now blazing bag of bull*&^. As it hit the porch we pounded on the front door and then ran like crazy. We safely made it to the corner just in time to turn around to see the front door open. By now the bag was fully engulfed in flames so with the porch lit up like daylight we could easily see Wade’s dad step out of the house and kick the bag. Unfortunately for Mr. Stefka the bag had been burning for a while so when he kicked the bag it came apart and sparks and burning embers flew into the house. But thankfully for everyone involved neither the house nor Wade’s dad caught on fire.

At this point the three of us took off on foot to a safer distance. After a few minutes we figured we were safe enough to stop running so we could take in the recent events and laugh our butts off. As our laughter started to die down we finally realized we had made one more serious mistake.

The car was parked down the street and just around the corner from the crime scene. So we thought we would give it a little more time before returning to retrieve the car.

I know you are setting there thinking holy crap how much were these guys drinking? Not a drop. I wish we had. I wish we could blame our stupidity on the influence of alcohol but this was all just us being us.

We were in Kent’s car but for some reason Jim and I agreed to sneak back to get the car so we slowly made our way back to the car. All was quiet as we approached the car. Jim quickly jumped into the passenger’s seat and I took the position behind the wheel and we both took one more moment to consider the events of the evening and to allow ourselves another chuckle or two and then proceeded to start the car. Then all hell broke loose!!!

We both looked up just in time to see Wade’s dad running out of the shadows from neighbor’s backyard. He looked huge at a distance of 20 yards and he was getting bigger by the second. I turned the key and it started right up and I threw it into drive and floored it. Nothing. The motor simply died. Not sure if the gas tank was empty or not but I was pretty sure my pants were about to become full!!

Mr. Stefka arrived at the car on my side just as I was about to try to start it again. But now being able to look eye to eye with our attacker I decided starting the car was not a good move. I know, I finally had a good idea. At this time Jim opened the passenger door and thought about making a run for it but for my sake I am glad he changed his mind.

Not only was Mr. Stefka a big guy but I suddenly noticed he was carrying what looked like a tree that had been pulled from the ground. We were caught and there was no way out of this. So we were marched back to the front porch where the bag of poop was now smoldering.

Again to keep this clean I won’t put in all the words that Mr. Stefka used but let’s just say he was upset with us. As Jim and I stood on the porch Wade was called to the front door to identify the criminals. Wade arrived at the front porch dressed in his cowboy pajamas and carrying a flashlight. He simply told his dad he knew us and then slowly turned and walked away leaving our lives in his father’s hands. Wade’s dad proceeded to chew our butts out royally but then thankfully decided to spare our lives.

He did make us clean up our mess. And if you thought a bag of bull stuff smells bad you should smell a bag of burnt bull stuff.

Not the kind of night we expected but definitely a night to remember!!

Cake Recipe


Let me just say up front that I am not a cook. Probably never will be. I can manage to flip a burger or two and I can handle a steak on the grill but don’t ever confuse me with being a cook. Just ask my son.

Years ago when my son James was only 2 or 3 years old I bravely took on the task of making him macaroni and cheese for dinner. My wife was at home but was busy doing something else so I volunteered to make the one meal I felt comfortable cooking. So there I was in the kitchen cooking away when our dear son noticed that I was the one in charge of his food. He looked at me and figured out what I was up to and then turned and ran to his mom as fast as he could and yelled out, “Mom! Dad is in the kitchen!” Apparently James not only felt like I shouldn’t be cooking his food but he didn’t like the idea that I was even in the kitchen. Somewhere in all that yelling I detected a lack of confidence in my cooking skills.

As I said I am not a cook so I am not use to using recipes but here is something that I really don’t understand.

Today my wife was talking on the phone with my mom and apparently mom had found a cake recipe in a magazine and she thought it sounded it good. So she was telling Janice about the recipe and what was in it and I could tell from the excitement in my wife’s voice that she thought it sounded good too.

See I just don’t get that. How can you talk about all the things that are in a cake like eggs, baking powder, pecans, buttermilk, salt, sugar, etc and somehow come to the conclusion of, “Yummy, that sounds great.”

Sorry I just don’t get it. Of course me being a male I am simple person and a visual creature so I need something more than just a list of ingredients to determine if this is going to be a cake that I would eat. I need a picture, a taste of the batter, the smell of it cooking or better yet. I need a bite of it.

I need to experience the cake. Not just hear about what makes up the cake.

In a way it is the same for me when dealing with the things God.

God is all about forgiveness but for me to really understand forgiveness I need to do more than just hear about it. I need to experience it. I need to see it in action.

When I have hurt someone and then apologize and I see them coming to me face to face and offering forgiveness I get a visual of what forgiveness is. And when I forgive someone I get a better picture of how God forgives and a better understanding of why I need His forgiveness so much.

And when I see someone loving me and not just saying it then love comes to life. It becomes real. And in return when I am able to really show love to another person it allows me to fully understand verses such as, “For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only son.”

I can read that verse and I can hear people talk about that verse. And I can even hear sermons dissecting the verse but let me see someone loving me or give me someone to love and that’s when I truly start to understand it. That’s when I can understand how hard real love is and how hard it must have been for God to give his only son for us. And even though it was hard he loved us “so” much that he went ahead and did it anyway. He didn’t just say he loved us. He showed us he loved us.

We can talk all day about love and forgiveness but until we experience it we won’t really understand it.

Just talking about it is kind of like listing all of the ingredients in a cake recipe. It doesn’t sound all that good and I really can’t imagine how it is going to taste.

But when we taste the batter of forgiveness. And smell the aroma of love. When we experience it, then it becomes real. And that is something you can seek your teeth into.

And it sure sounds better than salt, sugar, baking powder, and shortening.

Snow Shovel

You have heard the saying, "Be careful what you ask for. You might just get it." Well that was definitely the case last week. As Christmas grew closer, the thoughts or at the least the dream of a white Christmas once again entered our minds. We do it each year. We allow ourselves to think, "Wouldn't a white Christmas be nice?"

And it's no wonder we have these thoughts. Every Christmas special or movie shows it snowing on Christmas. Home Alone, Christmas Vacation, A Wonderful Life, etc. All of them have a white Christmas. And not only the programs but every ad on TV during the month of December shows it snowing.

So with our minds crammed with visions of snowflakes and the weather man predicting a "slight chance" of a white Christmas we foolishly allowed ourselves to wish, to hope, dare I say to pray for the ever coveted white Christmas.

We asked. And boy did we receive.

Here in Oklahoma City we ended up having the Blizzard of the Century and 14 inches of the lovely white stuff on the ground. The same storm dumped boat loads of snow from New Mexico across Texas, through Oklahoma and into Kansas, Missouri, and Arkansas. Before it was over most of the mid west was covered in white. A white Christmas was had by all.

With wind gust in the 40 to 50 mph range we had some dandy snow drifts and as I surveyed the 20+ inches of snow piled up on my back deck the one thought came to my mind.

"I sure wish I had a snow shovel."

I seem to wish like that a lot. When it is snowing I wish I had a shovel. When it starts to rain I wish I had an umbrella. And when my car won't start I wish i had jumper cables.

I wish for these things because when it isn't snowing I don't think I need a snow shovel. When it's not raining I don't carry an umbrella. And when my car starts I don't even think about jumper cables.

I am probably not the only one that does this. I think we all do this to some extent. We do it with shovels, umbrellas, and with jumper cables.

And sometimes we do it with God.

It takes an event for us to realize we need shovels and jumper cables and sometimes it takes an event to realize we need God.

A loss of a job. The loss of a loved one. Getting married. Planning a funeral. Having a child. Becoming a grandparent. Getting divorced. Hearing bad news from the doctor.

These are events most of us have faced or will face as we go through life. And as these events blow into our lives, much like the blizzard blew through town last week, we find ourselves wishing we had a God that was close by. And we wish we had Him today.

Yesterday you had a job so you didn't think you would need a God to give you peace. And last week you weren't planning a funeral so a God of comfort wasn't on your must have list. And last month your wife wasn't pregnant so the thought of needing a church to raise your child in wasn't even a concern.

But today, or this week, or this month you do need His peace, His comfort, or His church home. Now you need God. And you know it. But...

As the song "It's Never Too Late" by the group Steppenwolf says:

"You feel the guilt and loneliness,

and the God of your childhood you can't find

to save you from your emptiness."

Your car wouldn't start so you started looking for your jumper cables. But you couldn't remember where you left them.

The doctor tells you, you are seriously ill and now you can't remember where you left your God.

Don't wait for an event to start looking for Him. Look today. Look now.

You prayed for a white Christmas and look what you got.

Pray that you find God.

If you do. You will.

And you will be amazed at what you will find and receive in return.