The Science of Water Balloons

I haven't gotten around to blogging in the last two weeks. I am between parishes and between parsonages. In practice that means that I am busy with two parishes, with moving out of one place and moving into another, and with little time for much else. There is a rush on one end to tie up loose ends. There is a rush on the other to start out with a bang. Vacation Bible School is underway in my current parish, with a Firefighter theme (Jesus is the Firefighter par excellence). The highlight of the morning (and the afternoon, I'm told) involves throwing water balloons at the pastor. That would be me. Kids and adults get inordinate pleasure out of beaning the pastor and making him as wet as possible. The psychology of this is utterly transparent. 

There is such a thing as a bad water balloon. A bad water balloon is one made of quality material which does not explode on impact. Instead it bounces off of you. It is catchable in one piece and re-throwable, only to bounce off of one's target all over again. My claim: water balloons need to be made of flimsy material, or made flimsy by filling them to the brink. 

There is a science to water ballooning and any good Vacation Bible School needs someone on staff with an advanced degree in the subject.  

The weather is beautiful, not too hot, not too cold. A perfect Wisconsin summer day. The grass is iridescent green, the sky a gorgeous blue, the water cool to the touch. The giggling children fill the air with song. This little light of mine. 

Comments

[Rick Wadholm Jr]

Those "bad" water balloons work GREAT for using in a balloon toss though (esp. if it's your teams balloon :-). It is always amazing the ecstatic heights achieved through the torturing of a minister...enjoy (and bring dry clothes for later...or work it into some sort of baptismal service ;-).

[Duane]

John,

I was wondering want happened and am glad to hear that all is well if somewhat chaotic. Your post reminded me of the unending discussions at annual conference meetings on how to deal with the problem of the varying sizes and needs of parish families as they moved from one parsonage to another. This was in the early 1970s. As is still the case, some parsonage families consisted of the only the preacher while others consisted of the preacher, a spouse and ten, or in one case even more, kids. Unlike today, the overwhelming vast majority of pastors were men. But only family size and needs differed but so did the pastors' hobbies. I fondly remember one preacher who had a rather extensive wood shop with many bench mounted power tools. He also had three cars and was never happy with the new parsonage's garage. Just about the time he got the parsonage garage problem solved, often by adding at his own expense a workshop, the bishop would move him. There was even a standing committee on the problem of parsonage size and facility. Perhaps there still is. One year, after the committee's normal inconclusive report, one of the more creative members of the annual conference stepped to a microphone and made the following motion:

“Bishop Kennedy, Mr. Chairman, District Superintendents assembled, with the understanding that this will not completely mitigate the problems, after prayerful consideration, I move that over the next year every parish in the conference be ordered and directed to take all necessary and appropriate steps to adjust their parsonage to the needs and desires of the current parsonage family and thereafter only move the men.” If I remember correctly, he got a rather large number of seconds.

[JohnFH]

Hi Duane,

Yeah, the fundamental things continue to apply. I have to say that my family and I are blessed to be surrounded by laypeople who love us foolishly and lavishly and make up for our many lacks. The move is in progress, as it has been for weeks. It is a bridge-building exercise.