John Corson's Blog

for October 11, 2021


I have spent all day basically doing one thing. That is, not thinking about Windsor Baptist Church. I did not spend a minute pouting over yesterday's service nor the lack of participation, nor brooding over the lack of a good turnout. I did not spend five seconds wondering if the attendances and participation levels will be any better next Sunday when a familiar and well-loved guest speaker will be present. I just didn't care.

I know, you say: "You are thinking about and brooding over it now."

Yes, but not before this moment folks. I busied myself with other projects and interests today and I pre-occupied my brain with preparations to go on my well-deserved and truly much needed vacation.

I did work on my message for the first Sunday after I return - which is on October 31st. I even finished the outline and put some of the main content to it together. But I didn't think about how I thought might be there to hear it, how many will have prior commitments to be elsewhere or how many may just decide at the last minute that something else is more important that worshipping the Lord in His house with the few who would be there through thick and thin.

Just write the sermon John as if you were going to present it to 500 people. Oh, the think there will be 10 percent of that total there when I get back.

I think I got through this day without thinking of Windsor Baptist by the thirty minutes or so I spent on the back deck last night. I was out there twice last night. The first time for about fifteen minutes when a light drizzle of rain started to fall and I thought to myself: "Oh well, it wasn't in the card tonight."

About thirty minutes later, I took Reggie out to do his business and noticed that the drizzle was gone and that it was "safe" to come out. Reggie had gone back inside, laid down on his mattress in the den and when he dozed off, about five minutes later, I went back out on the deck. Pixie wanted to go out and I thought that wasn't going to hurt anything - she wouldn't run off so I couldn't find her. I sat with her for a few minutes and just pondered my son's decision to change careers, to go back to school and study HVAC and, in the process, live here with us for the time being. Then, my reminder went off to clue me in that it was time for me to take my heart medicine and end of the day vitamin supplements.

So I go in and poured myself some water, got the meds and there came Whiskers wanting to come out on the deck with me as I returned. I let her out and it is she that I don't have to worry about going off the deck and getting lost. Pixie had already gone off and since I didn't find near or around the immediate area, the scaredie cat that she is, I knew she was under the deck.

It was during these few moments that I thought about something. A question arose in my mind: Would I rather be pastoring at a basically complacent and mediocre church like Windsor Baptist Church with very little sign of ever growing; or would I rather be back in radio, announcing music and producing commercials by voicing the copy and editing the production?

Well, the answer to that was quite simple. It was the later. I fully enjoyed broadcasting, especially announcing and producing. But during my last "gig" of over eight years with public radio stations WHRO & WHRV, I was lastly relegated to hosting the news program "Morning Edition" via National Public Radio and only doing the cut-ins reading local news copy and public service announcements, weather and introducing the traffic lady. That was mundane. I used to host a Classical Music program on the other station (WHRO) in which I automated the show by programming all the music I was to play, setting up the CD's to be played in the automated juke boxes, doing the voice tracks to introduce the music, and programming it into the computer for play every night. For four of those years I actually went into the station overnight and did the show live, making it a request show - taking the callers requests over the phone, etc.

When the President of the company decided to hire a consultant, he didn't like my voice and thought it would save the company some money (which it didn't because I still was doing work on the WHRV side and programming its automation services) and he had a network service put in my place. Just one week after I was pulled off of the classical side, I was asked to fill in for the weekend classical host who went out on sick leave for two weeks. I filled in the first weekend, but the consultant told the program director to find someone else to voice track and host the next weekend.

That consultant's name was Tony Rudel, who knew nothing about programming a public radio station and had never served as a consultant for one. His only claim to fame was his father who was the renown conductor Julius Rudel. Tony just didn't like me, or, probably my voice. His main concern the three years he served as consultant was the only female on staff who was just a part-timer when he arrived, but he made full time and moved into the Afternoon Drive slot. Lane Dare was her name and she became his center of focus. The afternoon drive man, Taylor Green, was moved to middays and was like a fish out of water, out of his comfort zone as he held afternoon drive duties in three other stations before coming to WHRO, spanning 25 years.

Tony Rudel screwed it up for me, and my move to the News side of the operation became, over the two and a half years of doing it, a real downer. Just two years into my role as Morning Edition Producer, the President asked Rudel to consult for WHRV. After a little hesitation on his part, he consented and one of the first things he went for was my position. He told the President that there were no female voices on WHRV and since the other four main announcers on that station had specialties and since all I did was host, produce and read copy, that I should be the one to be replaced. So, on September 14, 2004 I keyed the microphone for the last time and was replaced by Donna (radio name "Sondra" Woodward). I never went back to radio. I really couldn't. Radio and television broadcast journalism has increasingly become a woman's world.

But I digress ..

So last night, the question became: Would I rather be pastoring at a basically complacent and mediocre church like Windsor Baptist Church with very little sign of ever growing; or would I rather be back producing Morning Edition, reading copy, introducing the traffic lady and doing station IDs?

Hum, WBC or WHRV? The pay would be about the same, maybe a little better at WBC since there is a non-taxable housing allowance in the mix. You know what? I can't answer that question. Both are mundane, both can be boring, both are demanding, but still mind-numbing. That is it! That is truly the issue: Mind-numbing.

Through my career as a pastor of a small church, apart from visiting and talking to people, my small churches only offer me small challenges to exercise my brain. Most are not concerned about details in a sermon. Just give them a couple of good jokes a line or two of encouragement, tell them Jesus loves them and send them home.

By the time I was in my fourth ministry - by 1986 - I had come to the place where I thought the most poignant and brilliant statement about my situation was made by a fictional character. That character was Sherlock Holmes.

In Arthur Conan Doyle's second novel about the famous consulting detective entitles The Sign of Four, Sherlock told his sidekick and close friend Dr. John Watson:

“My mind rebels at stagnation. Give me problems, give me work, give me the most abstruse cryptogram or the most intricate analysis, and I am in my own proper atmosphere. I can dispense then with artificial stimulants. But I abhor the dull routine of existence. I crave for mental exaltation."

In one of the 56 short stories written by Doyle entitled The Adventure of Wisteria Lodge Holmes said him:

“My mind is like a racing engine, tearing itself to pieces because it is not connected up with the work for which it was built. Life is commonplace;

Neither the job I left at WHRV nor my present situation stimulates me. They were things that help me go through some motions, some routine, but never gave me a sense of fulfillment.

I think I have let my brain atrophy over the last nineteen years. I need some mental gymnastics before the Tau proteins and the amyloid plaques seep into my amygdala and give me Alzheimer's disease.

So, my only solution as I continue to carry out the "dull routine" of pastoring a small church is this blog. Sometimes I really find the stirring of the brain as I read and research sometimes for this rag. I really get into the nitty-gritty of discovering the new and fastidious ways the Left and especially the Democrat party is destroying the country. I like discovering their disguised techniques and put myself into their evil ways of thinking. But, they only generates the motors in my brain; it also stirs up my juices and puts me closer to a stroke. It is not very healthy.

So now, with this in mind, I have another question brewing: Do I sit and vegetate or stroke out? Sometimes, that is what I think my life has come to.

I can't wait to get out of here for my vacation! Can I stay awhile? Can I just go and never come back?

These are questions left to the sinister among us? Let's just see how they manipulate the next sixteen days!

Blog for October 10 Blog for October 12


Blogs are about the blogger. It's as if he or she merely toots their own horns about the things they do, say and love.

My life is boring. I read, I watch Glenn Beck and Mark Levin. I listen to Andrew Wilkow. I engage in some conversation with those who are willing to listen (they being masochistic and enjoy killing themselves with my banter).

I plan on just laying out the things that bother me and the things I love. Nothing in-between. I hope you find whatever I put here amusing.