Honoring A Grieving Samson Brother

Larry Blackman regularly attended the First Baptist Church Jackson Samson Society meetings throughout a number of those initial (outset) years ('14-'16).  He was separated from his wife at the time.  She was in Michigan, and he was here.  They were a childless couple who both loved music.  In fact, from what I vaguely remember, Larry's passion for music served to indirectly promulgate his eventual need (crisis) for Samson Society.

I haven't seen, heard nor thought about Larry 'till earlier today.  Mr. Don Waller was kind enough to loop some of us Metro Jackson Samson "old timer" guys into a depressing update that came from Larry directly to him.

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The thing I remember most about Larry is he was never not smiling.  To the point of being giddy (or high).  Whether we were in a Samson meeting or at an after meeting, he seemed overjoyed to simply be there with us.  The second thing I remember about Larry was his brilliance.  He was an engineer by trade, working at a sizable corporate outfit (branch) here in the Magnolia State.  You could always tell his processor was spinning at a much faster rpm than your typical Mississippi redneck (me).  

Thirdly, Larry was always, always asking questions of whomever was within earshot.  And these weren't overly personal questions like I tend to ask, but questions that were more philosophical in nature (grounded in generalities).  I could never tell if he simply was avoiding being probed (via his provocative chattiness), or if he truly was innately curious as to how others around him might respond to his seemingly endless inquiries.

I can tell you, having known other engineers (from out of state) who landed here as he did, within the butt crack of America, most of those were / are just as uniquely peculiar as Larry.

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My fondest memory of Larry was his presence at the 2015 Samson Society Okatoma rafting trip.  A perfectly scaled group of us Samson guys went down for an overnight (Saturday) trip, enjoying a day of rafting that summer afternoon.  Larry and I were both in one-man kayaks (you can choose either a kayak or canoe) on the river, and this was to our advantage due to the fact that we got caught in a thunderstorm.  He and I raced downstream throughout the squall as all the other boaters (hundreds) took shelter along the banks.  Once we reached the exit point, he and I waited together for quite a while as our crew eventually caught up to us.  By then, the storm had long passed.  I can still remember my being amazed at how much speed this diminutive dude was able to achieve throughout that unexpected drama.  I'm here to tell you, Larry was FAST.   

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So, what prompted Larry to reemerge today, via his digital communication with Mr. Don Waller?  

It was his sweet wife's unexpected death that served to motivate.  Here's what he shared with Don:

Hi Don!  I thought I’d send this obituary to you since you’ve been very important to me and my wife, and your key role in our healing.

I lost my wife last week in an unexpected, but medical way, last week.  It was not the result of her chronic conditions, but is an emotionally wrenching mystery.  I’m just emerging from the shock, and have faced dehydration just from tears alone.  I know God works things in certain ways, but the hurt is now spread over the myriad fragments of my broken heart and the silence where my music once was. 

Thank you for being my inspiration during a difficult period in my life; still, the unimaginable grief I’m in ha [sic] exceeded all of my life’s experience.

I hope that all is going well for you with Samson activities and your family.  Tirzah and I really intended to get our Christmas cards going last week; now there’s just this void; I’m bridging it with keeping busy and talks with friends/ family.  Maybe God is calling me for something, but my tears are obscuring my vision on a regular basis.  Perhaps the music will recover soon ...

Merry Christmas and absolutely sincere regards,

Miss you!

Larry (big ler, Lars)


Don, you can share this with the guys, particularly those who may remember that kayak trip picture you sent back in March.

Sincerely yours,
Larry

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Please remember Larry, through my memories or via your own, and please pray for him as he grieves this terrible loss during the holidays.  (He's the Samson brother wearing the sunglasses in the photos below.)

Tirzah A. Blackman obituary

Recommended Reading

 One Hope for Our Mass Derangement (thegospelcoalition.org)

Stop Touching Your Penis!

 Does Sexual Self-Gratification Glorify God? (thegospelcoalition.org)

Recommended Reading

 Codependency In Men: 5 Signs To Understand (fatherly.com)

Resolving With The Intimidator

This past weekend I attempted to reenact the workshop I lead at the 2022 National Samson Society Retreat (2022 Virtual Retreat).  I wasn't convinced going in that Zoom could facilitate well enough for this to occur, but I was wrong.  It worked beautifully. 

To my delight was a workshop attendee who I've known at a cursory level for a number of years.  Covertly, I've dubbed him "The Intimidator".  As Mr. Nate Larkin's best bud, he's ever present within the Samson Society community, even going so far as to lead - singlehandedly (& quite adeptly, I must add) - the 2020 National Retreat.  

"The Intimidator" is one of the most intelligent / articulate Samson Society guys I've ever had the good fortune to know of, but at the same time, there've been days when I simply wanted to punch his lights out (from a distance).  Nonetheless, I have to admit that what tends to offset that is his willingness to admit to some of the most asinine shenanigans I've likely ever heard spoken of (by a middle-aged college-educated guy).

I must admit, all this "from a distance" observation had made for a strange understanding of this guy.  An understanding that I simply had no idea might ever truly resolve itself (up close & personally).

'Till he showed up as an attendee of my virtual workshop during this past weekend's "Zoomed" retreat.

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One of my favorite (if not my favorite) Samson Society experiences is the notion of queue.  And when I refer to that, I'm speaking mostly from the standpoint of participating within the virtual / National Retreat community versus a local one (though it's an experience that's applicable to either).  The word queue is one of those words that's gained much use / credence via the theme park afficionado (relative to the endless line you must wait in prior to riding).  The word found its initial purpose whilst describing print files, especially related to needing to print various documents all "in line" (or queue), one after the other.  

The word to me though has more to do with "waiting your turn" and all the observational / anticipatory emotions therein.  In essence, it's just as much about attitude / outlook as it is necessity / pragmatism.  

Pertaining to Samson Society, queue embodies the idling that occurs between friendships taking shape.  It represents quietness and availability and observation.  Steadiness even, as you engage interpersonally within the greater community (on and onto your next friendship).

And as everyone knows, there're no shortage of opportunities within Samson Society for ever expanding friendships.  Including with those you'd never believe might actually take shape.

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I realize I may be unique regarding this seemingly zealous approach to Samson Society preparedness, but I have to believe that for Samson guys who do embrace the virtual meetings / National Retreat especially, there's bound to be an inkling of similarity to Rob.  As such, the possibilities are seemingly endless!   

In conclusion, I now have "The Intimidator's" personal cell phone #, and we've actually chatted therein (immediately following my virtual workshop).  From there, I believe we'll continue forward in due time, sharing personal stories / anecdotes in support of each other within the spirit of this great brotherhood i.e. growing our, now not from a distance, friendship.

Honoring The Mother Ship's (First Baptist Church Jackson) Cherished '70s / '80s' Pastor - Dr. Frank Pollard - 12/03/78 transcript

My Sam's Club Lingerie

Throughout my married life (26+ years!), I've shopped at Sam's Club (warehouse club that competes with Costco's) for everything I possibly can, though I've never stooped so far as to actually purchase clothing there ('till recently).  Earlier this year, I actually bought a bag of basic ankle-high (white cotton) socks, and though I purchased a too small "size range", I was surprisingly pleased with not only their price but their wearability.

In the same vein as my socks, I've always been hard on my underwear (skivvies), though it's important to know that I DO change my underwear daily (I've heard of guys who forego this hygienic 24-hour habit).  Please know, dear reader, the thought of repeat-wearing my briefs is not at all appealing to me.

Keeping that in mind, I'd executed an underwear purge a few months back (discarding the too stained / too holey ones) and found myself down to the bare minimum quantity (daily wear!).  As such, I'd sometimes open my undies drawer, post-morning shower, and find the "men's lingerie" section depleted.  Therefore, in order to not have to go through the day covertly posing as a porn model (sans Jockeys), I'd bolt to the laundry room anxiously in an attempt to locate some fresh whitie-tighties.  

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Sam's Club is the bastion of cheap.  If you were looking for the most uncool place within our free enterprise society to admit to being a patron, it would be Sam's Club.  It screams cornpone, folksy to the same degree that Neiman Marcus decrees established ritz.  At Sam's Club, there's definitely no valet parking.  In fact, there aren't even any shopping bags.  It's just sealed concrete floors, asphalt paving (for miles), harsh overhead lighting (suspended by chain link from the exposed bar joists) and supersized signage (glued-on vinyl letters) displaying words like:

FROZEN

REFRIGERATED

RESTROOMS

VISION

PHARMACY

SNACKS

VARIOUS QUOTES FROM SAM WALTON'S WIFE

So, you guessed it.  I decided to purchase some replacement underwear from Sam's Club as a follow-up to my aforementioned sock buying success.  And, I must admit, these briefs are brief.  They're absolutely no frills (there's no tag, only silk-screened text directly on the fabric).  But that's okay.  I'm not shopping at a department store or even an outlet retailer.  No, this is Sam's Club.

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Inevitably, when I was growing up in Bob & Darlene's household, my father would forgo re-dressing himself after exiting the master bedroom after a long day at work (he was a salesman).  To be more specific, he wore a coat and tie to the office most days (even on hot, humid summer days), therefore the very first thing he'd do whilst arriving home was go straight to my parents' bedroom to shed his "uniform".  At the same time, he inevitably had a lot on his mind that he wanted to share with us (mostly my mom), having been away throughout the workday.  Hence, in lieu of re-dressing into his "around the house attire" (depending on the season) prior to exiting the master bedroom (& walking back to the other end of our ranch house), he'd - more often than not - prance back into the kitchen / den in nothing but his skivvies, passionately chatting incessantly about this or that.  

And this was simply due to him not having the wherewithal to take a few additional needed minutes (seconds?) to re-dress himself prior to engaging with my mother and me.

Thankfully, five to ten minutes later, he would return again to the master bedroom and put on some clothes.  In many ways, this bizarre routine was like watching a misplaced stage performer abruptly enter and exit repeatedly - between scenes - sans any actual costume change.  Call it a dress rehearsal sans dress.

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Of course, like father, like son.  

I do the exact same thing many a workday.  Just as I described my father doing when I was a boy.  And what's truly hilarious regarding my situation is our master bedroom is much closer to our home's living space(s) than what my dad dealt with.  

And I have to admit, this pedigreed zaniness has been going on for quite a long while.  Embarrassing my children especially, just as my father did to me.

As such, at some point last week, Angie let me in on an observation that my middle daughter made to her, in private, relative to my perpetual "brief" antics.  Apparently, she divulged to her that "dad's new underwear is practically see-through".  

Practically.  

Practically?

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So, this leads me to believe that Mr. Sam Walton had at least one additional interest besides making boatloads of money selling discounted cereal and toilet bowl cleaner.  

Now, today, I actually see my bi-monthly Sam's Club shopping experience a little differently.  Yes, I'm grateful for the low prices and the myriad of merchandise available to purchase (in bulk), but now too, I'm exceedingly pleased to be in on Sam's little secret.  

Who'd a thunk?  Sexy Sam.  You bad boy you.