Rev. Robert Whipkey of Frederick, CO was arrested shortly before dawn on June 22, 2007 while running in I assume nothing but his collar at a friendly local high school. The good father, who presided at parishes in three northern Colorado towns, was sentenced on Thursday to 5 years probation and 100 hours of community service in Weld County District Court. He also has to register as a sex offender. He told the judge at his sentencing that his conviction had ruined his life and cost him his job. He was wearing a blue shirt and slacks. What a concept.
You know, if he had worn even just the slacks on the June morning Bobby-boy wouldn't be in this predicament. I am not exactly sure what would lead a person to want to run, let alone naked, in the witching hour at a high school track. Maybe he had a fantasy of being a high school track star. Maybe he lost a bet. Maybe he had lost his clothes earlier and was desperately trying to find them. Maybe he had been doing that for like 12 years and nobody had ever caught him before. Maybe he is a creepy pedophile. Who knows? But we should at least be glad he wasn't doing what a lot of priests did to get on that sex offender list.
So the Denver archdiocese doesn't want Bobby-boy. I would assume that none of the churches around the area do either. And since I read about his shenanigans on the Internet, and the Associated Press was distributing it, I would guess that no other churches will want him either. And he can't work with children and should by no means be allowed near any sort of athletic equipment, because God knows he will be going bench press and the rowing machine naked. I would probably ralph if he started doing squat thrusts or the clean-and-jerk in the nude. So we can't have him in the gym. Maybe he can work at a gas station on the overnight shift. Or as a toll collector on the Indiana Toll Road. Although he'd most likely do that naked too. Hold on, I've got it figured out.
Fast forward to a cargo van parked deep in the swampy woods of Mississippi in the middle of the night. It's an older van, probably green with that gaudy 70s fake wood grain on the side, shag carpet on the inside. Inside the van, smoking heavily, is Bobby-boy seated in front of some low-powered radio equipment. He's balding. And of course he's naked. For six hours every night the AM signal blasts through the night; with Bobby-boy leading his small but dedicated flock through the trials and tribulations of life in the 21st Century. He gives them advice and Scripture about how to move on as a good, faithful Christian while spurning the evils that are clothes. He rants and raves against the poor Asian children who are cheaply sewing the clothes for the Western world. He takes pot shots at the malls and discount outlets of the world. And he gets downright irate at the idea of a designer getting any sort of accolade. And nobody listens.
Wow. What a horrible image that was in our crystal ball. And a sad end for a man who probably was an upstanding member of all three communities in which he preached. From respected leader to crackpot radio jock; I've seen it happen a million times. That's what happens when you take your clothes off while running around a high school running track. And that's on the Internet, so it must be true.