Stoned in church…

My shoulder hurt a lot this morning when I woke up. I think I mentioned that in a previous entry.

So… I took a Lortab and a Soma at 8:30am, and then walked to Church ahead of the rest of the family. Understand, this is in Orem, Utah, where pretty much any Latter-Day Saint lives within a short walk of their congregation’s meetinghouse. I’m no exception. I have to cross two residential streets, and I walk past 9 front yards (counting only those on my right side as I walk).

So… I walked to church, sat down in a promising looking pew, and waited for the medication to kick in.

When Sandra arrived 10 minutes later I was about to fall over sideways. We agreed that it might be best if I sat in the foyer on a comfy chair (typically used by nursing mothers and delinquent teenagers), stuck around long enough to take the acrament (Sacrament of the Lord’s Supper, or Communion depending on your particular vernacular), and then walked home. Well, the Sacrament was passed to me, and I spent a few precious wetware cycles contemplating my relationship with God. Then I contemplated walking home, and realized that walking ANYWHERE in my current stuporous state was likely a bad idea, so I stayed put.

I fell asleep.

I woke up when the closing hymn was sung. I sat dazedly in place wondering if Sandra would come and get me, and then realized that she probably thought I was at home. I decided to venture forth from the increasingly womb-like comfort of that chair (note the subject line — “stoned in church”) and walked very slowly until I located Sandra. We talked about it, and determined that the easiest thing to do would rhyme nicely with “stay at Church.”

(Note: Latter-Day Saint sunday services are referred to a “the block,” because they are a three-hour block of meetings. The Sacrament meeting is the principal congregational worship service. On our schedule it is followed by Sunday school, which is 50 minutes or so of directed discussion on a particular topic or topics from the scriptures. For adults, that is followed in turn by a meeting of the Relief Society [the women’s auxiliary] or Priesthood [the men’s meeting]. More to the point, I’d just finished sleeping through rough 75 minutes of a three-hour block, and Sandra’s suggestion was that it would be easier and safer to just stick around for the remaining 105 minutes.)

So Sandra and I went to Sunday School, and apparently the class was quite entertained by a couple of rambling discourses I launched into. I teach this class once a month, so it’s not like they haven’t heard from me before. Usually when they hear from me I’m not taking anything stronger than ibuprofen, and I can create complete sentences. Sandra assures me that I did not exhibit any Tourettes-ish symptoms, and probably offended exactly nobody. I don’t remember enough of it to be sure, though.

From there I staggered unescorted to Priesthood Meeting, and I did my best to keep quiet. Which is to say, I participated in the discussion with more rambling than an intoxicated baseball commentator. I’ll need to check back next week to see what I said, assuming they’ll still let me in the building.

These days my block of meetings is followed by about an hour of clerical work. Thus it was that following Priesthood meeting I headed to the office and sat down at the computer to begin entering the week’s donations with one of the counselors from the Bishopric. It became obvious to both of us (although to him first) that I was unfit to, umm… “operate heavy machinery.” He grabbed another member of the bishopric to get the job done, and sent me home. I followed the sound of jingling car-keys in the foyer, and quickly located someone who happened to be “going my way.” I arrived safely at home without having to brave the perils of residential Sunday traffic on foot.


21 thoughts on “Stoned in church…”

  1. Howard,

    All kidding aside, don’t kill yourself, alright? I know that it’s pretty tough for you to sit around and do nothing, but just be careful as that shoulder heals. Selfishly, I’d say it’s so we can continue to enjoy Schlock, but un-selfishly, I say it so we can continue to enjoy your existance on this very planet. =)

    Take care,


      1. I assure you, I was extra careful all morning not to do anything to aggravate the shoulder. The worst it got was when I woke up from my afternoon nap and had rolled over onto my left side (injured shoulder up). Rolling onto my back and then out of bed was painful.


          1. Yeah, I gotta admit that Howard’s entries of ‘fun on Lortab’ combine ‘amusing’ with ‘disturbing’. O_o I hope they’re more amusing and less disturbing when experienced in person!

  2. Wait. You took the Sacrament.

    And your hydrocodone tolerance is apparently heck of low.

    Am I correct in remembering that LDS communion doesn’t suffer from the Baptist Grape Juice Problem? This might have been a bad plan.

      1. *whew* Okay, good. Good good good good good.

        I mean, not that it would have been enough to cause trouble for most people if it had been alcoholic, but you seem to be reacting awful strongly to a very small quantity of opoid. Thus, worry.

  3. I’m not getting any euphoric effects. Just light-headedness, cobwebs in the brain, and less pain.

    Oh, and I can sleep through just about anything.


  4. Tourette’s in church

    Speaking from personal experience, you can judge the quality of your friends AND your church by how well they respond to Tourette’s outbursts.

    Having Tourette’s is a lot like having uncontrolable flatulence.

    And no, you can’t get away with saying anything you want. In fact trying to do that is about the WORST thing you can do with Tourette’s.

    What is fun though is you carry the ultimate icebreaker around with you wherever you go… but of course that also means you take it along to funerals… graduations… suffice it to say, life gets interesting 🙂

    One of the perks is obnoxious, over-sensitive people will stop hanging out with you as soon as possible 😀

    1. Re: Tourette’s in church

      One of the perks is obnoxious, over-sensitive people will stop hanging out with you as soon as possible 😀

      Almost makes it seem worth it, doesn’t it? *grins*

  5. It may be time for drastic measures


    Entertaining as all of this is to read (mainly since this time i’m not the one on pain pills doing the weird stuff) but sit down and take it easy for a day or 2 the less energy you burn the more your body has to run repairs find a copy of firefly and watch it (again if you already have) or we’ll have to see about MTRing some duck tape down to your local wal-mart for any local schlockers so they can deal with your lack of resting.

    Speaking of wal-mart i’ve got about half my co-workers (night shift so normal is not an accurate description) quoting from schlock still working on the others though they all loved the “Mon canard est en feu” bit


  6. Amen to them all..

    First I wish to add my voice to the “darn it, be CAREFUL man” statements…

    Secondly, and on a lighter note…

    Please, make sure someone transcribes what you say…

    I want to join in the amusement… 🙂

  7. Bwah! I’m sure you (inadvertantly) entertained everyone. Please be careful, because we’d hate to loose a favorite web comic artist to a “bad trip”…

    1. Pain killer/muscle relaxant != hallucinogen

      The stuff that Mr. Tayler is on will lower his inhibitions and muddle his thoughts. Basically it can make it difficult for him to think clearly, and remove some socially-instilled blocks that might prevent him from sharing his unclear thoughts with whomever.

      Hallucinogens that artificially create new connections in the mind between previously unrelated subject/objects, bring out baggage you might have thought buried, and can change the way you think about something for years are a whole different ball-game.

      (For those who may not be aware, “seeing things” is a small, special subset of hallucinations, not the other way around.)

      Then again, maybe mind-bending, look-into-the-abyss spirit quests are a potential side-effect that he just hasn’t mentioned to us, yet. That’d be weird.

      Or did you mean a trip of the feet, ankles, and flooring?

      1. Re: Pain killer/muscle relaxant != hallucinogen

        It was a pun. A play on words in which the meaning of a word is confused with another, or a similar sounding word is used in place of the actual word. In no way did I mean to imply that Mr. Tayler is taking hallucinogens.

  8. You’re lucky.

    In NY, I have to drive 45 minutes to go to a church that’s off the main road by around two orders of magnitude more out of the way then a dead-end avenue to Main Street. I’m right on the boundry line between my ward and a branch that takes 10-15 minutes to get to.

    I wish I lived in Utah. Maby when I’m in college.

  9. Well Howard, that was certainly an interesting description. That sounds like you had more fun in church than I have had there in years.

    I’m sure the doctor knows what he is doing, but a muscle relaxant and some serious painrelievers sounds like a prescription for trouble.

    It was interesting to hear how your services differ from my own. Religions have long been a topic of study for me. It sounds like your services are not too dissimilar from the methodist church I attend, though we use a watered down wine in our communion. We also often unclude a group meal in our meetings, fellowship with other believers being of great importance to the methodists.

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