Maytag, Dependable Agitators

Several years ago, I confessed to someone that I was a mass murderer.  I got the “look” from her.  Let me explain.  I had carried a bag of trash to the outside trashcan for city pickup.  When I raised the lid, I realized that I had stirred up a supply detachment of “sugar ants.”  I do not know how they got that name; I grew up with daddy calling the by an Old Testament word, which I would rather not write.  They are anything but sweet.  They are a nuisance.  I retrieved my bug killer spray and killed hundreds of the pesky rascals. 

They had taken up residence in my Honda Civic.  They love the dead bugs in the grill.  I had a can of Raid in the Civic.  I think they have built a hive or nest in the car somewhere.  Thank goodness, they do not sting as do those sorry, good for nothing, demons called fire ants, but they do pinch.  The best thing about sugar ants is where they are, fire ants ain’t.  Rarely do you have both species.

My place Sugar Ridge in Chilton County was a haven for fire ants.  They had mounds everywhere.  I admire the work ethics of fire ants, but their battle tactics are swifter than the ancient Philistines.  Both sugar and fire ants have a sophisticated communication system that many modern communications companies envy.  When I kill a sugar ant, I watch as the straight lines of their comrades’ start evasive maneuvers.  If I drop a piece of bread, within minutes ants are forming supply lines.

When I stir up fire ant mounds, they immediately go into attack and rebuilding modes.  I love stirring up fire ants, because they are vicious.  Using a hoe or broom handle, I bore deep into the mound to kill them from the inside. Through the years, I have tried various methods of mass destruction.  Burnt motor oil and gasoline are more effective than most other types ant poison.  Sometimes I feel as though I am a mad scientist or dictator trying to create new weapons of mass destruction.

They always counter attack.  Just when you think you have conquered them, you realize that they replaced the destroyed mount with another nearby and used the moving opportunity to built two or three new subdivisions.

I know when I was cutting the grass in the pasture; I would send ants flying everywhere.  I think that is where my stirring up abilities originated.  I remember cutting my uncle’s pasture and I stirred up some bumblebees.  The tractor was not moving fast enough, so I jumped from the tractor and out run the bumblebees.

Working summers while in high school with Hiwassee Land Company, my coworkers, and I would stir up yellow jackets.  They are very protective of their hives.  On one occasion, Larry, my cousin, was jabbing on a tree.  Suddenly he realized that these yellow and black kamikazes covered his pants.  Now, I admit that it was funny to watch one another running and screaming, “Yellow Jackets,” through the woods.  Larry did not run, but stood swiping yellow jackets from his blue jeans and slowly saying, “I think I’m in a “yellar jackit nest.” 

Unfortunately, the hickey tree he jabbed housed an integrated duplex.  In the basement were the yellow jackets, while in the high rise resided the hornets.  Yellow jackets are small fast and fierce, but hornets are bigger, faster, and carry a big punch.  While Larry swiped yellow jackets, the hornets swirled around their eloquently fashioned papier-mâché, which had more security guards than a New York Art Museum.  Suddenly, a hornet went into a nosedive and hit Larry between the shoulders.  He hit the ground face first as those of us who watched ran screaming through the woods, “hornets!”

Getting back to cutting the pasture, along with bumblebees, yellow jackets, and ant mounds, are cow patties.  Those innocent looking circular mounds, when stirred up, can cause a stink.  Sometimes we played baseball and football in the pasture.  Up home, we call this cow pasture ball.  Sometimes we would use the dried cow patties as bases for baseball.  One Sunday while playing baseball in a neighbor’s cow pasture, one of our teammates slide into second base only to discover it was not completely dry.  He stirred up an oozie stink.

Several of you have read articles where I mentioned my nickname at the Calera Cement Plant.  My co-worker and friend, J.W. Tucker, I think he was my friend, started calling me Maytag.  At first, I thought it was because I was dependable, like the Maytag appliance commercials.  J.W. said it was because I was an “Agitator.”

Through the years, I realized it was not a derogatory nickname.  Those who stir up people can be an agitator, but also one who campaigns or motivates people.  I hear motivational speakers make big money to motivate people.

Churches have been and will continue to be in revival.  Effective revival evangelists and preachers have the gift to stir up the people initiating revival. 

When political chaos reached an all time low, God became man to stir up His people.  Churches can be like ant mounds sitting with all the unseen activity, or crusty dry cow patty, or papier-mâché nest which have negative results. Can it be that the times in which we live need a little motivation? 

 

And they were the more fierce, saying, He stirreth up the people, teaching throughout all Jewry, beginning from Galilee to this place (Luke 23:5 KJV).

 

And the Lord stirred up an adversary unto Solomon, Hadad the Edomite: he was of the king's seed in Edom (I Kings 11:14 KJV).

What's Your Name?

 Men have comraderie and when grouped together, give one another nicknames.  Elijah P. Brown says that men in mining, military, and lumber give one another names.  He notes that primitive people gave one another names such as Buffalo Face, Kill Deer, Eagle Eye, and Sitting Bull.  Nicknames tell something about a person’s characteristics, bodily features, or dispositions.

I had a nickname or two in school.  In the sixth grade, a classmate saw the Hollywood gossip columnist Hedda Hopper on television.  Hedda was the mother of William Hopper who played Paul Drake, Perry Mason’s private detective.  Hedda wore large hats.  My classmate thought I might be kin to her and it would be neat to call me “Hedda”.  Today when someone calls, “Hey, Hedda,” I know it is a classmate.  Others would call me Hippity Hopper, Grasshopper, Clem Kadiddlehopper, Clodhopper and Bubba.

Having spent most of my adult life in the cement industry, I worked with men who had nicknames and I acquired a nickname or two there myself.  I worked with Meathead, Big Ugly, Round Head, Danny Mac, Bubba, Slim, Smiley, Smithy, Wild Bill, Big Dave, Red, Cotton, Radio, Reron, Grunt, and Gourd Head.  There were supervisors named Buffy, Squirrelly, Snake Doctor, Killer, and Paw Paw. There are many more but some are inappropriate for this article.

The assistant plant manager called me Peewee.  One friend called me Barbara Ann.  Another called me Whopper.  After I became a pastor, they called me Preacher.  The name that became the one most remembered is Maytag.  It came during the time I negotiated contracts between the company and the union.  I got it, not because of the dependability of a washing machine, but because I was a good “agitator.” 

Others called me the “Great Mediator” because of the hundreds of grievances I settled, the many arbitrations I reconciled, and four contracts I bargained.  When I hear “Old Maytag”, I know it is from someone that worked at the cement plant or someone that agrees with the nickname.

Fathers give their children nicknames.  My daddy called me “Shag” after the character on Scooby Doo.  He said that my shaggy hair and few little whiskers made me look like Shag.  He called one of my brothers “Lard” and my sister “Sister”.  He called my brothers and me “Bocephus” most of the time.  Daddy also had some that I have to censor.

In my family today Andy is “Andy Pandy”, Angela is “Angel” or “Little Lulu” and Aaron is “Doodle Bug” or “Precious Life”,  and I am “Dad” or sometimes “The Big Man”.  Now that I have grandchildren, I am Poppie.

God gave Jesus a nickname or two.  Elijah P. Brown says the Bible has 256 names for Jesus.  These names reveal something about the life, the work, and the nature of our Lord.

For unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given: and the government shall be upon his shoulder: and his name shall be called Wonderful, Counselor, The mighty God, the everlasting Father, The Prince of Peace (Isaiah 9:6 KJV).