One Pharmacist's View

Is Gambling OK For Me? Years ago, I was the teacher of the elder men’s class at the First Baptist Church here in Allen (a position I no longer hold) and one old guy, tiring of hearing about Moses and Luke and John and other guys like that, wondered what we thought about gambling.

It’s graduation time all over America. I clearly remember going to school and finally graduating from Stonewall High School back in 1952.

I once read a story about a little French orphan girl named “Coco”. I didn’t think I had ever heard of “Coco” but it was her nickname.

When I was in grade school over at a shrinking town called Centrahoma, about all the town’s churches disbanded. Thus, because of this the First Baptist Church of Centrahoma was formed.

I may be super old (whatever that number might be) and I may not be able to remember the name of an old friend, but I do remember some things Flossy Grogan (my literature teacher when I was a “Longhorn”) over at Stonewall Schools. I can remember the Shakespearian play “Much Ado About Nothing.

I fear my “career” as an amateur writer may be drawing to an end. The last few years, every time I had another surprising birthday, I figure I need to quit all this and maybe like old “Buda” just sit around.

I read in the paper that we have lost many of our citizens the past few weeks. I wouldn’t know where to stop or start to name all of them, but I did note that those activities in our pristine Allen cemetery have been up.

It was a long time ago. The Wayne Bullard family was going on a trip.

From the pages of the British Medical Journal comes the story of a 76-year-old woman complaining of stomach pain. She told her doctor that the long object in her abdomen was a ball-point-pen she had swallowed 25 years earlier.

I always thought it to be a strange name — “Pido.” His four-letter first name had begun its regular appearance in our church bulletins soon after Pearl Harbor had been attacked by the Japanese and sometime later we learned he was a prisoner of war.