Thoughtless for the Day

I have to admit that when Vienna and I first heard an NPR report about "Faith Night" we turned to each other and said "Oh boy, another reason to hate sports. But while some might as "why", Jerry "Fongo" Fongowski asks "Why am I waking up in a parking lot?"

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Dear Third Coast Sports,

I recently learned of your Faith Night events and I'd just like a moment of your time to tell you a story about a man, a dream, and a group of young boys. That man is I, Jerry "Fongo" Fongoski; that dream involved hot-dogs and a covered bridge, and those young boys are Christacean. Let me begin at the beginning:

Nearly five years ago I found myself suddenly in possession of a large sum of cash following an out-of-court settlement over the wrongful deaths of my family (I won't go into the details [it's still to painful for me to write about] but let's just say that you should NEVER visit a petting zoo below the Mason-Dixon Line - especially one that prominently advertises "Bear vs. Steer Thursday"). Not long after my tragedy-inspired windfall, I had a dream. I had a dream in which men and woman off all colors lived together in piece and harmony. But, much more importantly, I had a dream in which hundreds of hot-dogs floated through a covered bridge. Well, I didn't need a tree to fall on me (even though one did later on: but I'll get to that) to recognize that this was clearly a sign form the Lord, so I put on my pants, took the meat-stays out of my shoes, jumped in my Honda Civic, and began to look all over Lancaster County for that covered bridge.

And wouldn't you know I found it! Or, at least, one that looked enough like it (all covered bridges being somewhat similar in design and this technically being the first one that I came across) to be acceptable to the Lord. Well, you could've knocked me over with a feather. What did knock me over, though, was a tree. Just as I got out my car to marvel at the bridge, or the first reasonable facsimile thereof, that had appeared to me in a dream, a small poplar tree toppled over and pinned me to the ground where I was found nine hours later, barely conscious. After the lawsuit, during which baseless allegations of having "soften upped" the poplar by repeatedly ramming it with my Civic were lodged at yours truly, I found myself in possession of the land on which I had once spent an evening pinned to the ground with only sap to survive on. Ah, but every cloud has a silver lining and this newly gained land combined with the money from several previous lawsuits (the most profitable of which having been an out-of-court settlement with the Dr. Shoal's Corporation over the aforementioned "meat-stays") allowed me to open my restaurant: Fongo's Near A Bridge - Home of the Mouth Full O' Man-Sized Meat.

As luck would have it, Fongo's did great business from the start (please attribute this to the blessings of the Lord combined with the popularity of our the Mouth Full O' Man-Sized Meat Jumbo Dogs and not any rumors that you may have heard about me planting phony "DETOUR" signs along the main highway), but something was still missing from my life. And then I met Brad, Tommy, Chad, and Raul: Better know as Christacean.

I'll never forget the day when I was first opened my eyes, saw their bright, shining faces, and heard them say "Mister, why are you sleeping in the parking lot?" After I regained my senses and dusted myself off I explained to the lads that I had not been "sleeping" in the parking lot, but had been rendered unconscious after tripping over some unseen object (while it is a testament to our troubled times that none of the customers nor, for that matter, any member of the staff at Fongo's thought to inquire as to my health; instead preferring to step over my limp carcass; it does say something positive about human nature that I was not set ablaze or in any other way molested during the time I was laid out flat). And then I realized that the spot on which I had awoken was the EXACT SAME spot where three years earlier I had been pinned under a poplar tree!!! Truly this was another sign!!!

I soon engaged the boys in helping me comb the parking lot for the wayward object that had caused my collapse in case it should be useful in a future lawsuit. While we were crawling around on the asphalt on our hands and knees we got to talking. As it turned out, the boys had recently formed a Christian Rock Band called "Christacean".

"Christacean? That's an unusual name," I said finding a wheat penny, "Why Christacean? What does it mean? Should I be frightened? I will call the police if I have to." Then the boys calmed me down by explaining that the name was a reference to Leviticus 11:9-12 and Deuteronomy 14:9-10 in which God forbids us to eat any sea creature that doesn't have fins or scales. "Wow, tell me more" I said eager to hear more and for them to tell it to me. "Well," said Chad "God forbids us to eat any sea creature that doesn't have fins or scales." Thunderstruck, I immediately ran into the kitchen of Fongo's, grabbed a bowl of Gumbo El Fongo, dashed it against a wall and shouted "I REBUKE THEE!" Then I walked back out to the parking lot and up to those boys and said "Fellows, I'd like to manage your band." Well, that was nearly two years ago as the crow flies; since then Christacean has grown to be one of the biggest bands in the Lancaster area, playing nearly every barn raising or tractor pull.

Now I bet you're asking yourself "Why is this gumbo-slinging guy telling me all of this stuff?" Well, it's because I know, deep-down in my gut, that Faith Night would be the perfect showcase for Christacean; and once you know a little more about them I'm sure that your gut will be just like mine. That's why I've included the lyrics to Christacean's most popular song, Hell's Shells below. Please contact me once you've arranged a Faith Night in the greater Lancaster/Philadelphia area. If I don't hear from you, I'll just assume that the boys have the "gig".

Eat the Turf, Shun the Surf,
Jerry "Fongo" Fongowski
Proprietor of Fongo's Near A Bridge
Fongo23@aim.com

Hell's Shells by Christacean

Beware the claws / Beware the feelers
Beware the shells for they are soul steels
You fill your plate / You seal your fate
It's a buffet of sin and you're going back for seconds

Hell's Shells
Swimming all around you
Hell's Shells
Their ungodliness surrounds you
Hell's Shells
Your heart they will stab
Hell's Shells
Shrimp, clams, lobsters and crabs

"Don't swim with the sharks" you've often heard
But dining on crustaceans is even more absurd
For an arm or a leg is a Great White's only goal
But a Red Lobster won't be happy 'till it's taken your soul

Hell's Shells
Swimming all around you
Hell's Shells
Their ungodliness confounds you
Hell's Shells
They crave the Fall of Man
Hell's Shells
Shrimp, lobsters crabs, and clams

So eat not the fish without scales or fins
For doing so is an unpardonable sin

Hell's Shells
Swimming all around you
Hell's Shells
Their ungodliness surrounds you
Hell's Shells
For they are Satan's imps
Hell's Shells
Lobsters crabs, clams and shrimp