While we have been vacationing in California I received an e-mail from a good friend who dearly loves me (given the quality of her character it is quite humbling that she loves me). She said in her e-mail in a jesting and playful way that she missed the resident local crank. I softly chuckled at her playfulness and dismissed it as the good natured ribbing that it was.
I wouldn’t have thought about it again until today a reader responded to my most recent post characterizing me as a ‘grumpy guy.’
Now, I am as sensitive as the next guy when it comes to these kind of things and like most people I don’t want to be stuck with a negative reputation, though I admit that I might be fighting a losing battle when it comes to the ‘grumpy, and cranky’ sobriquet being applied to me.
Still, if I can’t avoid being pigeon holed with this characterization I guess I will try to wear it as comfortably as possible. Maybe I can do for ‘grumpy’ and ‘crank’ what Johnny Cash did for black.
Sung to the tune of ‘Man In Black’
The Resident Crank
Well, you wonder why I always am a crank
Why you often hear me applying a verbal spank
And why does my language seem to have a grumpy tone
Well, there’s a reason for my low rhetorical groanI’m a grump in a church that’s no longer sane
sayin’ things that are well beyond inane
So when living in times that require ashes and dust
The diplomatic side of me now has some rustI’m a grump for those who might be saved
By a tart tongued response sagely made
rescued from the fog manufactured by our hapless clergy
who are busy playin’ to audience’s sensibilitiesWell, the Church is doin’ just splendid, I guess
With our Emergents masquerading our duress
But just so we’re reminded that it’s really dark and dank
Somewhere there needs to be a well known crankI’m grumpy for the grumps who’ve gone before
For Tozer, Chesterton, Calvin and many more
I’m a crank in mournin’ for the new borns led astray
Each week the Church glides further from ‘the way’And, I’m cranky for the billions who have died,
Who never knew what it meant to be alive
I’m a grump because the Church is sleeping in the light
Or maybe even snoozing in the nightWell, there’s things that never will be right I know,
And things need changin’ everywhere you go,
But ’till we start to pick off some of our omnipresent lice
You’ll always see me struggle with being ‘nice’Ah, I’d love to be ‘Mr. Chuckles’ every day,
And tell the Church that everything’s OK,
But while there’s hope for more fruit from Jesse’s virile stump
It looks like I play the part of grump