The Greater Delaware Procrastination Society formally awarded Lifetime Achievement Awards to Sir Thomas DeBilder and Sir Christopher Sparrow in the field of ‘building a great big church without the use of any modern technology’ last evening at the annual awards banquet at Frank’s Diner in Shawnee Ferry, Delaware. With Tom Behren Jr, Dennis T. Hernandez, Bob Lee Colwell in attendance Benjamin McGee made the announcement to no one in particular in the mostly empty diner.
“These awards are very dear to my heart because I’ve always enjoyed playing with building blocks,” Ben read. “First, I want to thank Sir Christopher Sparrow for building that really big church in London. I saw a picture of it and it looks really big.”
The other esteemed members of the GDPS nodded voiced approval with hearty cheers – four minutes later.
“Second, but of no less importance, we hereby award Sir Thomas DeBilder with our very first posthumous Lifetime Achievement Award in the field of building really big churches.”
Tom Behren looked at Bob Colwell and whispered, “I didn’t know he was dead.”
Mr. Colwell shrugged. “I didn’t know who he was until I watched that miniseries on TV.”
“Maybe we waited too long to recognize these men for their contributions to society,” Mr. Hernandez said.
“Well, we don’t want to rush into things,” Mr. Colwell said as he poured ketchup on his now stone cold fries.
Mr. Behren stirred his cup of beef stew, blew on it and took a bite. “Marge, could you heat this up again. It’s too cold.”
Marge chewed on the end of the pencil she had just removed from somewhere in her beehive hairdo. “This is the last time I’m gonna reheat this for you. Sooner or later you have to eat it.” She took the cup of stew and put it back into the microwave.
“Maybe we should be more timely with these awards,” Mr. Hernandez said and the took a bite of soggy Cheerios.
“We did talk about congratulating Roger Maris for hitting all those homeruns,” Mr. Colwell offered. “No player will ever come close to sixty-one homers again. What year was it?”
“1961,” Marge answered setting the stew down and rolling her eyes.
“That’s pretty recent.”
Marge shook her head. “Too late. He’s dead. You guys are totally out of touch.”
“We don’t like to make rash decisions,” Mr. Colwell said with a mouthful of cold fries.
“Yeah, I get that,” she said with a laugh and walked down the counter to help another customer. “What can I get you?”
The man with the bad comb-over hair glanced over his shoulder at the two men in dark sunglasses, black suits and earbuds and whispered, “I’d like the Wednesday breakfast special and give those guys black coffee.”
“I’d love to give you the Wednesday special, but this is Friday. How about that?” Marge asked as Art, the cook, shook his head while walking past.
“No thanks, I don’t care much for French toast. I guess I’m too late again.”
The four members of the Greater Delaware Procrastination Society perked up their ears and looked at each other.
Benjamin McGee nodded and said, “I think we just gained another member.”
Mr. Behren took a bite of stew and tapped the counter with a finger. “Let’s not decide until we finish last night’s supper.”
“I agree,” Mr. Hernandez said. “Caution trumps a hasty decision.”