Monday, November 24, 2008


You know you live in the ghetto when......
Ok, for those of you who don't know, my ward is, for lack of a better word...tragic. It is severely lacking in membership, and the 20 of us that remain, struggle to keep up with all the NEED of the rest of the people. We're surrounded by apartments, so people are constantly moving in and out, and usually they're total inactives who only show up looking for money or food. The rest of the stalwarts that are still around are all nearing like 90 something. There are literally about 4 families that have any kids that fit the primary and or young men/women age group. So, yeah, like I said, tragic. I only tell you this to prefice this story, because holy crap, it's hysterical. My dad (the Bishop) was sharing this little gem yesterday at the dinner table. I HAD to blog it, 'cause noone would believe it anyway.
Apparently, just before church started ( we were late of course, so I missed this beauty) there were three little old ladies coming in. One is just pretty much deaf and a bit tottery, we'll call her Sis. X, well Sister X apparently lost a bit of her balance and fell into Sister Y who at any given time is totally hopped up on Oxycontin and is incoherent. Well, this in turn made Sister Y fall into Sister Z, who has a story that could go on for days. Sister Z looked like she was halfway to a coma yesterday and could literally barely stand upright, she's hopped up on who knows what most of the time. So, Sisters X, Y and Z all fall like dominoes and land right on top of our sweet, innocent and unhopped up Relief Society President. It was a pile of fragile, drugged out (except the innocent Sister X and the R.S. Pres.) old women right there in the chapel. And who knows, now the R.S. president may need some hopping up of her own, as she did sustain minor injuries. And that my friends is how you KNOW you live in the ghetto! I bet you're ALL jealous now. HA!


LadyCarma said...

Having been to your ward on many occasions, I think I can agree with your summary of the ward membership. Though the ones that are active are kind and thoughtful and so friendly. I always liked attending the ward. You always make me laugh at your narratives.

When Steve graduated from BYU in 1976, we moved from an apartment in Orem on 900 North to an old house on 1st East, 300 South in Provo so he could be closer to work at Eyring Research Center. Our building was the oldest chapel in Provo, Provo First Ward. We had 80 plus widows in our ward, and lots of young couples or newly weds. We had two children at the time so the ward was so excited to have us. Between Steve and I we had about seven callings!

jen said...

Didn't manage to hear that story last night! Saving it to blog, huh? That'll teach you to be late to Church!
Thanks for stopping by the Sanitorium last night. I know it was completely crazy for you calm, two-child folks, but for us, it really wasn't too bad. Plus, I found Max's bottle behind the couch in the family room.
ps I really mean it about a night's sleep. If you don't take m e up on it, you're crazier than a bedbug or really Lynda Carter in disguise!

Livin' Wright said...

HAHAHAH! I SO miss Alma 4th ward, and all the Crazies that come and visit us! I remember one time a lady came in desperately seeking a fathers day card for her son. She was asking for $, of course. Little did she know that Derek was willing to print one off the computer for her. she never did take it for her son. HMMM? wonder why :)