Another go-round at confessing something stupid!
I have done some things that would seem to belie the intellect God has given me (Read that: Stupid things!). One of those moments graced with a less than brilliant flash of inspiration was when I hitchhiked from Jackson, MI, to a Jesus festival in Wilmore, KY. Please don’t tell my kids!
It was the early 70s, and many of us did stupid stuff, even unrelated to drug abuse. I guess it was just because we had sewn Jesus patches on our bell bottom jeans, were having yogurt and granola revivals, and somehow all of this affected the brain function of even Christian kids.
There was also a certain naiveté. I was sheltered by my church upbringing, and there wasn’t a lot of trouble to get into on sixty acres of farmland (though we did manage a little). But to illustrate: My band in college did a rousing version of…
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