Coupon Anxiety: Is It Really Worth It?

© David Hartman

     I coupon like a boy. I know this. I really want to learn to coupon like a girl, but the process seems overwhelming and the bargains underwhelming.

     And it doesn't help that I've been burned by couponing before. Like last week, when the Geezer and I "cashed in" on a BOGO lunch entree deal at TGI Fridays. The catch is you have to pay for an entree and two drinks. Two drinks at $2.59 a pop. Two fifty-nine! For the price of one dine-in drink, I could buy a sixer and have change left over. And if you want sweet potato fries instead of the nasty white potato fries, that's $1 extra -- each.

     By the time we were done, I spent as much with one of us eating "free" as I would have spent for both of us to eat full price at Swadleys. And we'da gotten more food at Swadleys, free soft serve for dessert and better, blonder waitresses.

     But I saw the banner on the Sunday paper saying there were $332 worth of coupons inside, so I violated everything I stand for and actually paid money for a Daily Oklahoman, the newspaper that fired me awhile back.

     Lots of good stuff in there, if I needed canned tea, wax paper or mascara. But I don't. I did see a coupon for a free stick of deodorant when I buy one, and one for $1.25 worth of free spaghetti when I buy two jars of Ragu. I definitely eat spaghetti. I sometimes use deodorant. I'm still not sure sacrificing my principles was worth a stick of Right Guard and some angel hair pasta, though.

     I know there's an art to it. You gotta use a coupon when something is already on sale, so you get two discounts at a time. That takes some research. The local coupon queens at my church get together now and then to learn tricks and trade coupons, etc. I've been invited to attend. Maybe I should go. 

     But I know I'd be the only guy there, and I wouldn't want to stifle the girl talk. There's only so much "do these jeans make me look fat?" and "I was just walking by and I saw these pumps in the window and I thought 'ohmigosh, those would be perfect with my mustard-colored scarf'" and "well, when I was pregnant with (insert child's name).....yada yada yada" a guy can take.

     Anyway, if anyone needs coupons from Sunday's paper, hit me up. Someone may as well use them. Oh, and if you really have to ask, then yes, the jeans probably do make you look fat. :)

...

      I don't want to rant here, but I get more and more disturbed every time I hear on the news that the United States is pledging millions and billions of dollars in aid to some foreign country that just had a natural disaster. This time it's Japan. The same country that already owns about half of the United States as is. 

     Here's an idea: rather than just giving them more of our money because we're nice guys, how about we give them the chance to sell us our country back for the price they paid for it. Then they can use that money to clean up the mess and take care of their folks.

     Look, I've got nothing against Japan per se, other than that whole Pearl Harbor thing. But America has got to break its habit of bankrolling every other nation's natural disasters. It would be one thing if other nations came running with equal generosity to help us whenever a hurricane wipes out a major city or an oil rig leaks and destroys the livelihood of thousands of Americans along our coasts. You just don't hear much about that happening, though, do you? Not nearly to the extent that we spend on other nations when they need a hand.

     I'm a Democrat. I'm all about helping my own poor. Some think we spend too much for public aid to the needy in the U.S. I'm not convinced we spend enough. But we don't enforce immigration laws, so we spend billions each year supporting people inside our borders who aren't even U.S. citizens. That has to stop. You want to benefit from the system, Option A is to become a citizen and pay into the system like everyone else. Option B is to go back where you came from. There is no Option C.

     We've also got to get out of the mindset that it's our responsibility to free other nations from their oppressive governments. Those folks need to fight their own wars and get their independence for themselves. Just like we did.

     Makes you wonder how much better off we'd be as a country if we just minded our own business.

Remembering Alan Day and Don Vinzant

© David Hartman

     Years ago, a reporter for a dying newspaper in a thriving Oklahoma suburb convinced his managing editor to begin a regular religion section in the paper, covering news and events relevant to members of the community's dozens of churches.

     That's how I met Alan Day, pastor of Edmond's First Baptist Church. As I shared with local pastors and ministers the paper's plans for expanded coverage of religious topics and local church events, many were skeptical or confused. Why would a newspaper that never really cared before about their activities if it didn't involve buying an advertisement start to care now? I understood the skepticism. But a good number of local church leaders were enthusiastic about the change, and Day was among my biggest and earliest cheerleaders in that effort.     

     In the year plus that would follow before I left that newspaper, Day regularly offered encouragement and story ideas. I launched a "read-through-the-Bible-in-a-year" campaign as part of the paper's religious coverage. I asked the local clergy to contribute to a weekly column on Fridays, offering something from the week's scheduled readings that made the Bible relevant to our lives today. Alan was one of the backbones of that weekly column, taking his regular turn in the rotation, as well as occasionally penning something on short notice when another minister forgot his turn. And his material never disappointed.

Alan Day

     Alan and his wife invited me one evening for the church's Wednesday evening meal and Bible class, and were gracious hosts. I was impressed by Alan's teaching ability, and he took the time to introduce me to as many people as he could while I was there. Everyone I came in contact with at that congregation was warm and friendly. Based on their welcome, it's easy to see why they are a large, growing church. I know the folks on staff at Edmond's First Baptist are good-to-the-core in their own right, but I guess I always attributed much of that general culture to Alan's leadership there.

     So I was saddened a couple of weeks ago to learn that Alan died suddenly in a motorcycle accident, leaving behind a wife, children, grandchildren and literally multitudes of lives he touched through his ministry. My community lost a giant that day.

     Edmond lost an equal spiritual giant Thursday with the passing of Don Vinzant, the longtime minister at the Edmond Church of Christ, just up the street on Bryant from where Day ministered for more than two decades. Vinzant died after a brief illness.

     I knew Don better than I knew Alan, primarily because we both worked at Oklahoma Christian University for a number of years. I was always drawn to Don's genuine, warm personality. Though I've been away from OC for a number of years, I'd still bump into Don occasionally on campus, or at Panera Bread across the street from the church.

     Don would always take the time for a visit. Our favorite topic of conversation was Bobby and Tamie Ross. Don knew that Bobby and I were close friends since our days as students at OC together. Don would gush about the Rosses to the extent that I often wondered if we were talking about the same Bobby and Tamie Ross. But there was never any doubt how much Don cherished and loved them.

Don Vinzant

     Recently, our conversation topics also would include Jeremie Beller, my preacher at Wilshire. Jeremie is a former student of Don's and another man Don loved. He would always tell me how impressed he was by how well-read Jeremie is for a man of his age, and how Jeremie seems genuinely interested in study and growth.

     I never really minded talking about the Rosses with Don, but talking Beller with him always made me nervous. When a leader of a larger, deeper-pocketed congregation than your own brags on your preacher like that, you're dumb not to be concerned. I always told Don it was fine to admire Jeremie. From afar.

     But it's not the Panera visits with Don that I will remember most about him. It's the times I would bump into Don in one of the hospitals. On two occasions, once when my dad was hospitalized and another when mom was a patient, I ran into Don in the hospital hall. He asked why I was there, and when he found out I was visiting a sick parent, took the time to invite himself into their room for encouragement and prayer. He came to see someone else, but always had time for the parents of Bobby's friend. I often wondered if Don was doing it for Bobby's sake, for my sake, or for the sick parent's sake. The answer, of course, is none of the above. Don did it for his master's sake, following the example the master set.

     I read about how precious the death of saints is to God. I read about mansions and robes and crowns. Up there. Where God has plenty of men and women like Alan and Don. It just doesn't seem like there are nearly enough of them down here, where we need them.

     When it's my turn, I'll see them again on the other side. Until then, they'll be missed. My community is poorer for losing them too soon.