P is for Pogs

Exhibit A:  Sonic the Hedge-pog

If P is for pogs, this might be a nostalgic post. 

Dictionary.com gives this helpful definition of pog…

n.

disc used in playing a game said to have originated in Hawaii and popular in U.S. during the mid-1990s; said to be from the name of a brand of juice, the bottle caps from it being used to play the game originally. 

…and this somewhat humorous example in its definition.

A small cardboard disk used by children in games : Hey, gimme back my pog! (1990s+)

You needed cases for your pogs.

An informative Wikipedia article—is there any other kind?—explains the origin of pogs and rules of the game. I also learned, “Because many children would keep the pogs they won in games from other players, many school districts considered pogs a form of gambling. Pogs proved to be major distractions from classes and the source of various playground arguments. These elements eventually led to the banning of pogs from various schools across North America.” https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pogs

So pogs became a major distraction from classes and the source of various playground arguments? You think? Along with Pokemon, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, and now smart phones. Back in the 1960s, my best friend and I were sentenced to detention for playing Cat’s Cradle in class. And our string was confiscated.

The Pog Mothership back in the day

During the 1990s, my hub and I took the Brosius brood to vacation in Ocean City, NJ—is there any other OC worth visiting?—every summer. One year, the Surf Mall on the Boardwalk overflowed with pogs . My boys and I bought dozens upon dozens of the colorful discs, for I craved them as much as the boys did for two reasons.

The primary pog purchases were for Vacation Bible School later in the summer. The Surf Mall had Christian pogs! Let me rephrase that:  They had Christian-themed pogs. The pogs themselves had not actually prayed the sinner’s prayer, although I also saw some disturbing pogs that needed to ponder the 4 Spiritual Laws. 

Are these Christian pogs? No, but they're under conviction.

Anyway, I stocked up on pogs with Bible verses, Christian slogans, and pictures of crosses, Jesus, and Bibles to use as VBS prizes. I (may) remember I taught third and fourth graders that summer. Or maybe first and second graders. The pogs proved to be a wildly successful incentive. Children were seen wandering the streets of Montandon each afternoon, repeating words from little cards to memorize the day’s scripture verse. The next morning I administered a written quiz, yes a written quiz, on the verse, and presented the precious pogs to the pupils who prevailed.

Somewhere in that hoarder’s paradise I call home, I still have the children’s scripture quizzes, misspelled in ways that generate guffaws while bringing tender tears to my eyes. 

I'm sure I still have these...

and these.

Also in hoarder’s paradise are my pogs, the ones I didn’t give as prizes. The ones I bought just for me: My Star Trek and Muppets pogs. That’s two separate categories, although I surely would have bought pogs that combined the two. Who wouldn’t want to see Miss Piggy

striking a flirtatious pose with Lt. Commander William T. Riker?
 

I wonder if my high school Bible students would respond to pogs…

D is for DOUGHNUT

Getting read to enjoy a
few Krispy Kreme donuts.

Not a Dunkin Donut, which will do in a pinch. (My preferred there is a plain cake donut.) Not even a Krispy Kreme Donut, best enjoyed with hot coffee after an early winter’s morning drive to the mothership in Scranton.

No, I discovered on Memorial Day weekend that D is for a doughnut from the Fractured Prune in Ocean City, New Jersey. My favorite beach town has long been a doughnut haven. In the halcyon** days of my family’s younger years, we usually rented our bikes from a business that rewarded us with a free fresh donut and a free beverage when we returned the bikes. And I have salivated in the long lines stretching down the Boardwalk in front of Ove’s and Brown’s. I have watched donuts travel through a mysterious machine, be baptized in bubbling oil and then resurrected to golden brown life. And I have rejoiced.

So many varieties. So little money.

But on the holiday weekend I switched lines. At the Fractured Prune, each doughnut is custom created from myriad** choices to the customer’s specifications.

My mouth was not big enough. (Insert joke here.)
I had to use a knife and fork.

 I ordered a breakfast sandwich whose “bread” was French toast doughnuts. (I realize I have a subject-verb disagreement in the previous sentence, but there was nothing disagreeable about the sandwich.) I imagine the two doughnuts, eggs, bacon, and cheddar cheese added up to about a gazillion calories, but I didn’t care. I ate every crumb. And I rejoiced.

This picture is four years old. I recognize the mom.
I think the little boy grew into the very capable teen who waited on us.

**And you thought you’d never get to use your Vocabulary Workshop words!

…my cup overflows. (Psalm 23:5)

            When a cup overflows, it usually means a mess to clean up.

            Twice in less than two weeks, restaurant servers have spilled ice water on me. Cold, but clean. But as a mom, I can remember countless overflowing beverages, and I sopped and I mopped.

            So how can I view this overflowing thing positively? Two modern examples come to mind.

            First, I think of a slot machine in a casino spitting out coins into a cup that quickly fills, spilling the bounty onto the floor. Note:  I have only seen this in TV shows and movies.

            I have experienced my second example many happy times. When I go to Johnson’s Popcorn on the boardwalk in Ocean City, NJ, they ask, “Do you want the lid on or off?” If I want the lid on, I get less popcorn, because the lid has to close. If I ask for the lid off, I receive a tub of warm, sweet, caramel popcorn heaped over the top and falling out.

            Time out for my favorite statements about cups:

•     Optimist:  The cup is half full.
•      Pessimist:  The cup is half empty.
•      Whiner:  What cup? You got a cup?! Why don’t I ever get a cup!? Waaaaaaa!
  
  (Okay, I confess:  An alternate spelling of whiner is “R-o-b-e-r-t-a.”)

            David, shepherd, psalm-writer, and king was neither optimist, pessimist, nor whiner—at least not in this psalm. Everything he writes about God in 114 words (NIV) encourages me to pray, asking for the lid off.

The Lord is my shepherd, I lack nothing.
    He makes me lie down in green pastures,
he leads me beside quiet waters,
    he refreshes my soul.
He guides me along the right paths
    for his name’s sake.
 Even though I walk
    through the darkest valley,
I will fear no evil,
    for you are with me;
your rod and your staff,
    they comfort me.

 You prepare a table before me
    in the presence of my enemies.
You anoint my head with oil;
    my cup overflows.
Surely your goodness and love will follow me
    all the days of my life,
and I will dwell in the house of the Lord
    forever.

Psalm 23, from www.biblegateway.com