The associate minister unveiled the church’s new campaign slogan last Sunday: “I upped my pledge — up yours.” (church bulletin)

Low Self-Esteem Support Group will meet Thursday at 7 p.m. Please use the back door. (c.b.2)

Ponderisms for June . . .

A lady named Rita Mae Brown observed that “language exerts hidden power, like a moon on the tides.” I’m uncertain if ponderisms fits under that cloak, or even if it’s a legitimate word yet. New words are trendy today accompanied by my oft-noted slop-talk: ‘gonna’s,’ ‘gotta’s,’ and ‘gotcha’s,’ used liberally in our television medium, where their writers write as if they’ve become lost in thought and found it unfamiliar territory.

Bless the flip side, where we find writers and orators, like Crowfoot in 1890: “What is life? It is the flash of a firefly in the night. It is the breath of a buffalo in the wintertime. It is the little shadow which runs across the grass and loses itself in the sunset.”

Don’t take life so seriously, someone told me, so I suppose I need to remember words have emotional encrustations, that change is inevitable — except from vending machines — that my past may be questionable, but my future is spotless and, if we’re going to have a carbon tax added to the overflowing tax backpack already on our backs, isn’t it reasonable we levy a tax on political gas they alone must pay? I wonder which would bring in the most money.

The ladies of the church have cast off clothing of every kind. They may be seen in the basement on Friday afternoon. (c.b.3)

Ladies, don’t forget the rummage sale. It’s a chance to get rid of those things not worth keeping around the house. Bring your husbands. (c.b.4)

What people said, once upon a time:

“Stocks have reached what looks like a permanently high plateau.” Irving Fisher, professor of economics, Yale university, 1929.

“Drill for oil? You mean drill into the ground to try and find oil? You’re crazy.” Drillers whom Edwin L. Drake tried to enlist to find oil in 1859.

“640K ought to be enough for anybody.” Bill Gates, 1981.

All of which suggest church bulletin bloopers, perennial favourites — some old, some new, some repeats — are simple typing or grammatical errors, they’re not off-the-wall prognostications from the rich or famous, which ain’t necessarily accurate.

Sort of levels the field somewhat, doesn’t it? 

The sermon this morning: “Jesus Walks on the Water.” The sermon tonight: “Searching for Jesus.” (c.b.5)

Don’t let worry kill you off — let the church help. (c.b.7)

Somewhere among this year’s grads will be young men and women who’ll eventually knock the kings of money, politics, sports, military and other forms of mayhem off their perches as kings of their respective castles. This boy could be one of them. He thinks! I hope there are thousands like him!

A young boy enters a barber shop and the barber whispers to his customer, “This is the dumbest kid in the world. Watch, I’ll prove it to you.”

He puts a dollar bill in one hand and two quarters in the other, then asks the boy, “Which do you want, son?”

The boy takes the quarters and leaves.

 “What did I tell you?” said the barber. “That kid never learns!”

Later, the customer sees the same young boy coming out of the ice cream store. “Hey, son! Why did you take the quarters instead of the dollar bill?”

The boy licked his cone and said, “Because the day I take the dollar, the game’s over.”

A tip of the hat to those who show us how beautiful our language can be. And thanks to church bulletin writers for … for, well, for showing what happens when you drop your … your g’s. “This evening at 7 p.m., there will be a hymn singing in the park across from the Church. Bring a blanket and come prepared to sin.”