Whew! I'm not as young as I once was. These spells between my travels and my postings are stretching out farther than Gumby's able to.

Maybe it's just that we packed so much into the few days I was there. I spent Saturday and Sunday in Murfreesboro with Pam and Gordon at their daughter's Brenda's. I remember when Murfreesboro had one red light. Now it's mile after mile of strip mall and gas stations. It's hard to find the courthouse.

My friends Patti & Jerry Burke have lived there for umpteen years. We all grew up together down in Georgia. I dated Jerry's twin brother, Jimmy, very briefly. He's married to a preacher woman now. She's real pretty and sings. The only voice I have is on the keyboard. Usually, I stay with Patti & Jerry on my trips south, but they've got the house all torn up. They are remodeling. And I'm proud to tell you that they've chosen the colors I recommended on my last trip through town. So if this writing gig falls through I can always become an interior decorator. I got an eye for detail, I reckon.

We did attend church at New Vision with Patti & Jerry. Brenda got dressed up real nice and came out, too. New Vision is one of those mega-churches now. I remember when it was only a few hundred people, too. Now it's in the thousands. They have fancy coffee bars, two on each end of the church. And fancy lights and staging. My buddy Fred calls it "God's Karaoke." He prefers the choir loft and pulpit style.

Poor Gordon. I don't think he knew what to make of it all but he was a good sport. When they put the songs up on the big screens in front of us, he tried to read along. I wonder if the folks at church ever consider that there are people in the audience who can't read? Anyway, Gordon he tried. Finally we sang an old hymn and he turned to me and said, "I know this one." And he sang. I couldn't help but be overwhelmed by the moment. There i was sitting between my old friends Patti & Jerry, who've known me ever since I was 14, and Gordon & Pam, who I've known for just a couple of years, but feel as though I've known all my life. And we were there for worship God. It was a glimpse of heaven.

Speaking of glimpses, I did hook up with Amy Dickerson while I was in Nashville. Brent, Amy and I met at a coffee shop up in downtown. Brent got us a couple of muffins and lattes. I dropped the bran muffin and it crumbled all over the carpet like sawdust. Made an awful mess. I needed a dustbuster. We were able to rush through the photos from our April trip and pull a good mix for the proposal on the Glimpses book. So we ought to have that underway by the end of the year. It's fun running into Amy, my old traveling buddy.

Brent got me to the airport on Monday. And even took my unsold books -- 50 of 'em -- up the stairs to his office. He called me, panting, on his way up. He'd forgotten how heavy books can be. "And those are just the paperbacks," I said laughing.

Security at the airport yanked me aside. Note to self: Leave the underwire bra at home. But they were very polite about it: "I'm going to pat you down now. If you want to be patted down in private, please say so." Real congenial folks. When I got to Vegas and had to go through security again -- don't ask -- I just stood in that security line and gracefully removed that bra and put it in the x-ray bin. The gals behind me cracked up laughing. But, hey, it got me through security without any buzzing.

This was the first time I think I've flown with Southwest Airlines and I have to tell you, I was very impressed. I was apprehensive about  flying on an airlines where I couldn't book my seat, but I shouldn't have been. I was able to have a window seat the entire way and loading and unloading went faster than I've ever seen.

On the way to Vegas I sat next to Mr. & Mrs. Bobbitt. I ain't lying. It wasn't the same Bobbitts you know, though. Her name wasn't Lorena. I shared my boxed meal with Mr. Bobbitt, a big, muscular fellow who had the appetite of a famished bear. I wished I'd visited with them more, but I was too busy reading a book I found at the airport's Gum & Rag store.

My friend Eddie in North Carolina says I have a taste for the tragic in books. He might be right. This was Lifting our Eyes, the story of Lauren McCain who was killed during the Virginia Tech tragedy. I bought the book in Nashville and finished reading it as the plane touched down in Portland. Usually, I read for an hour and sleep for an hour, but how can you put a book down when the shooter is still roaming the hall? It was a good book.

One of my favorite lines referred to a Mel Brooks movie, where Mel has just lost his job and says to his buddy, "I need to be alone for awhile." And his friend answers, "Okay. I'll go with you." The author making the point that we don't need to give an answer for the tragedy in people's lives -- we just need to go with them in their aloneness.

Lillian, I'm thinking of you, daily. I wish I could be there to go with you in your aloneness.

Would somebody righteous out there pray Shelby gets a job? She's so discouraged. I'm afraid I'm going to wake up one morning to the news that she's joined the Army for a lack of better options.