Dear God; Interview question

 

Dear God,

Thank you for this opportunity to interview you. I realize it is not something you normally do.

I’m sure you have millions of prayers to answer, people to smite, and miracles to wrought, so I’ll be brief.

I used to wonder why you let mean, crotchety, old people live for so long, and yet, you thought my cousin Vicki should die at age 10. She was such a sweet kid. It took me a long time to come to grips with that one, let me tell you.

I finally decided that life was a test for us. You keep giving those mean, old bastards lots of chances, thinking they might change their ways. The ones you are sure will never falter, regardless of what kind of shit life throws at them, you figure you can shorten the test cycle.

Oh, sorry about the language. That whole Vicki thing still irks me sometimes. I have to hand it to you though, you did gave her back to me as my guardian angel. Without her, I might not have made it through my teenage years. So, thanks for that.

My question to you is this;

Of all the religions in the world today, which one would you prefer us to worship?

I’m no theologian, but most of them seem fairly similar. Well, except for that cow worshiping thing. I never really got that one. I suppose if I was in some arid region, I would be praying for something to drink too.

I also wonder about all the wars that get started in the name of religion. Isn’t that “Thou shall not kill” thing good enough for all religions? Seems like a pretty good idea to me.

I’m sorry. Was that two questions?

Like I said, I know you’re busy. If you want to think about it for awhile, that will be fine. You can just leave a comment here on my blog. Whenever. But preferably sometime before you decide to shorten my test cycle.

Oh, when you answer, maybe a little miracle to let me know it is you. There are a lot of people down here that think they are God and I certainly don’t want to hear their opinion.

Thanks in advance.

Superstitous minds

 Ring! Ring! Ring!

“Hello?”

“Hey Bubba, it’s Ralph.”

“Hey Ralph. What’s up?”

“Hey, I was just getting ready to head out to run some errands and was wondering if you might wanna join me for breakfast?”

“I was planning on staying in today.”

“Come on old man, I bet you haven’t been out all week.”

“Two weeks. But today is a good day to stay home.”

“Why?”

“It’s Friday the 13.”

“Oh, get over that silly superstition. Meet me for breakfast, I’ll buy.”

Bubba mulled over the dangers of Friday the 13^th compared to a free breakfast. Staying home almost won.

“Gimma about half an hour?”

“Okay. Meet me at Cindy’s Corner cafe?”

“Sounds good. See ya there.”

They settled their rather large frames on the spinning stools at the counter of Cindy’s Corner Cafe.

Bubba’s big belly, hanging out like he swallowed a beach ball, brushed against the edge of the counter.

“When did these seats get so close?” Bubba asked.

“When do you get fat?” joked Ralph.

“When I got married. Getting married makes you fat.”

“Being lazy makes you fat. Getting married makes it easier.”

Jenny the waitress stepped in front of the two men. She pulled a pencil from the mass of tied up hair piled above her head and a pad from her slightly soiled apron. “What’ll it be, boys?”

“Eggs and bacon and coffee for me.” said Ralph.

Bubba looked up and said “Same for me, but add an order of biscuits and gravy. With extra gravy.”

Ralph glanced over at Bubba, smiled and said “And you wonder why the seats are getting closer.”

Their order placed, they sat and chatted for a bit.

When the food arrived, Bubba reached for the ketchup, knocking over the salt in the process. He quickly grabbed a pinch of the salt and tossed it over his left shoulder.

“Hey watch it!” exclaimed Ralph.

“Sorry, just warding off any bad luck.”

“You almost got it in my eye. That would have been bad luck for me.”

“Better you than me.”

Bubba managed to get a good grip on the ketchup bottle and smothered his eggs with it.

“That looks disgusting. Looks like someone murdered an egg your plate.” observed Ralph.

“Well, I happen to like it.” Bubba stirred the eggs and ketchup into a further mess before starting to shovel it into his mouth.

During bites and sips of coffee, Ralph said “See? Friday the 13^th isn’t so bad.”

Bubba rapped twice on the table “Knock on wood and good luck willing”

”That’s Formica” muttered Ralph

“There’s wood underneath.”

“It’s probably particle board underneath.”

“There’s still wood in it, ain’t there? Close enough.”

They ate their food and in between bites, sips, and swallows, they discussed this and that and nothing in particular. As promised, Ralph bought Bubba's breakfast.

Walking out of Cindy’s Corner Cafe Ralph noticed Bubba avoiding cracks in the sidewalk. “Really?” he asked, then gave a couple of playful jumps on one of the cracks.

“Step on a crack break your mothers back.” said Bubba.

“Well, I jumped on a crack and it didn’t break my mothers back.” countered Ralph.

“Your mamma is dead.” Bubba reminded him.

“Yeah, but it wasn't from a broken back.”

They stepped around the corner to see a work truck with a ladder hanging over the sidewalk. A worker in a bucket at the top end was working on a power line.

Instead of walking the few feet under the ladder Bubba walked all the way around the truck.

Ralph walked the few feet under the truck’s ladder. “See! Still alive!” he mocked.

Out of their sight the worker dropped a tool and it hit the power line. A small lightning bolt shot out and barely missed Bubba’s left ear before making a crack in the sidewalk.

“I think I’ll go home now.” he said.

“Might be for the best.” said Ralph.

 

 Looking at this chart, I have to wonder about the 5% that don't know. They don't know if they are superstitious, or don't know what it means? 

Are you superstitious?

Did you, like me, have Elvis Presley's "Suspicious Minds" playing in your head while you were thinking about his weeks topic?

My Power Animal

 When I read this weeks GBE prompt of “Power Animal” I had never heard the term. I know, I know, I must lead a very sheltered life.

I had heard the term “Spirit Animal”. I was a bit confused to what the differences were. After a few google searches for “Power Animal” I learned that I was not the only one to be confused.

I would click on a link for “Power Animal” only to find an article for “Spirit Animal”.

I even found a site with a survey to help you find your “Power Animal”. After spending quite a bit of time answering quite a few questions, I got to the part to learn what my Power Animal was, only to find the heading “Your spirit animal is Turtle”.

First of all, what happened to Power Animal?

Second...Turtle? I was hoping for something a little more exciting, or at least a little bit intimidating like Bear, or Wolf. Even snake would be better than turtle.

When I google searched “Spirit animal turtle” I got this:

“The turtle totem wisdom teaches us about walking our path in peace and sticking to it with determination and serenity. Slow moving on earth, yet also incredibly fast and agile in water, those who have the turtle as totem or spirit animal may be encouraged to take a break in their busy lives and look around or within themselves for more grounded, long-lasting solutions.” 

 

While I am constantly amazed that we have the knowledge of the world in our computers, sometimes there is to much info. Now we add “totem” to “Power” and “Spirit” animals. Sheesh, I didn’t know this was going to turn in to a research paper.

While the description of a “spirit animal turtle” does sound a bit like me, I was still curious to find my power animal. Further research found these distinctions:

Spirit Animals are often perceived as guardians and guides that accompany individuals throughout their life journey, providing protection and wisdom.

Totem Animals, on the other hand, serve as emblematic symbols that are linked with a community or tribe, reflecting shared values and beliefs.

Power Animals act as spiritual mentors, endowing individuals with their innate strength and sagacity, and aiding in personal growth and empowerment.

Ummm. Okay. How do you find your power animal? Oh, look! Google has an answer:

Ways to Connect with Power Animals:

        Meditation: Through meditation, individuals can set the intention to connect                 with their power animal and seek guidance or healing.

Shamanic Journeying: This is a traditional method where individuals enter a trance state through drumming or other techniques to journey into the spiritual realms and communicate with their power animal.

Observation and Reflection: Paying attention to animals that one feels drawn to or frequently encounters can be a sign of a connection with a power animal.

Dream Work: Sometimes power animals communicate through dreams. Keeping a dream journal and reflecting on animal symbols can be insightful.

Rituals and Offerings: Creating rituals or making offerings that honor the power animal can strengthen the connection.

Art and Creative Expression: Drawing, painting, or creatively expressing the power animal can be a form of connection and honor.

Sounds like a lot of work. Since I didn’t start writing this until late Sunday night and it is due on Monday (Hey! Just like my research papers in high school!) I think I’ll just pick an animal that I think fits my disposition and stature. My power (totem, spirit) animal is;

                                                        Teddy Bear

 

Favorite Bookish Endeavors

 This weeks GBE prompt is: What is/are your favorite book(s) and why?

Hmmm.

My favorite book...Thinking...thinking…

This is like choosing your favorite song, movie, or grand child.

It’s also completely subjective. My favorite song, movie or book could be your most hated thing. But don’t think for a minute that is going to stop me from blogging about it.

The truth is, I didn’t used to be much of a reader. My early forays into fine literature started with the grade school bookmobile and paperback editions of the “Peanuts” comic, and the “Ripley’s Believe it or not” series.

My early teenage years were spent reading things like superman comics, mad magazine and graduating to such literary giants such as the Creepy and Eerie comics. Those led to the titillating art work and stories in the Vampirella magazines. My Mom hated those! Every time she found one, she would throw it away. If you are not familiar with these fine magazines, this is what the cover art looked like:

 

 

You can see why a teenage boy would find them interesting, and why my Mom hated them.

Later in life that dramatic styled art work led to painting this motorcycle helmet:

But we are not talking about art work and I’m not sure those magazines qualify as a real “book”.

I remember reading “Shane” in a seventh grade English class, mostly because the teacher made me read it out loud. I don’t know if she liked my voice, or just the fact that I could read pretty fast without stumbling over the words. The other students would read, but they usually only read a few pages at a time. I think I read about one fourth of that book out loud to the class. It was a western and all I really remember about it was; if you’re sitting in saloon, sit where you can watch the doors. It was a gunslinger thing.

The next book I remember was a collection of Edgar Allen Poe stories. Even though the wording was a bit old fashioned, I found I liked the Macabre. This may be where my interest in all things Halloween started.

I don’t remember much about them now, but I used to enjoy reading the humorous stories of James Thurber. The fact that he illustrated them with cartoons only made them more interesting to me as I once harbored dreams of being a cartoonist.

In high school we had to read “The Illustrated Man” by Ray Bradbury. The book was about a tattooed man and each tattoo had it’s own story. It was basically an anthology of science fiction stories. Now THAT I can get into. My roving mind can handle short stories!

My favorite book(s) lately has been a series hosted and judged by well know science fiction writers. It is called “Writers of the Future”. It is a contest for unpublished writers. I think they are up to Volume 39. I have most of them. Each story is by a different author and the themes and writing style vary greatly.

 

 

I find this much more appealing than a book length novel that could take me weeks to get through. If you get started on a long book and then find you don’t like the style, subject, or tone of the writing, you’re kinda stuck. You gotta struggle through it, or toss it and feel like your reading effort was a failed endeavor.

Even some Anthologies that are curated by one editor can have a certain “feel” or even subject matter. And if you don’t like one of those aspects, well, you’ve wasted your time and money. Fortunately, I buy all of my books at the used book store. If they have a section for science fiction anthologies, that’s where I will be...or over in the travel section.

That being said, there was one book that I started, and literally could not put it down. I started on Friday afternoon and read it all the way through in one sitting. That book was Jurassic Park. And yes, as good as the movie was, the book was better.

Oh wait, there was another book that I really enjoyed: “The life and times of the Thunderbolt Kid” by Bill Bryson. It was a humorous look at a time that matched when I was growing up, so I could relate to a lot of the stories. I ran out and bought a few more of his books after that, but this was my favorite.

Dang it. If I sit here long enough I will think of others. This blog could wind up being as long as “War and Peace”...which I have never read. I doubt anybody wants to read that much of my opinion. Actually, I'm surprised you made it this far! Congratulations!

Travels with Sierra; Hit the Road Jack

Hit the road, Jack 

(yes, it's a Ray Charles reference)

I throw the last minute items into the truck. Everything is packed...I hope. 

It's the first day of my "Westward Ho "trip. I head out of Ohio on Interstate 70. I run into slow moving traffic before I even hit the state line. I have gone a grand total of about 30 miles.

Two lines of traffic are driving at almost 63 when the limit is 70. If it were just a few cars poking along, I would weave my way through traffic until I passed the morons that are holding everyone up. But I can’t even see the front of the line. 

After a few miles of this, with nobody passing anyone, it starts to rain. So, naturally, everyone slows down to under 60 mph. Oh, Look! A Cracker Barrel! I whip off the poky puppy highway and head for the parking lot. I get out of my car and head for the door in a steady rain.

Before you can say half-blind granny drivers slow poking in the rain, I have my breakfast. Mommas' Pancake breakfast to be exact. I don’t know what it is about Cracker Barrel, but they have the best orange juice. The pancakes always have a slight crunchy edge that is very tasty.

When I am done, I head back out to the truck.  

The rain has stopped and the sun is shining. Traffic is back to moving at its normal highway speeds and the slow poke parade is nowhere in sight.

Back on the road again! (In case you missed this musical reference; Canned Heat about 1968)

I drive to Whetstone creek conservation area near Williamsburg, Missouri. 

This is to be my first boondock campsite for the trip.

As I pull into this area I can hear giant horse flies attacking the truck.Thwap. Thwap. Thwap.

Not a good sign for camping!

The area is quite lovely. 

A very well maintained gravel road leads into the park. There are several lakes and ponds. They all look like good fishing sites. I suddenly wish I had figured out how to fit a Kayak in the truck.

While the campground is not much more than a parking lot with some picnic tables and fire rings, It will do. The fact that it is free makes it that much better. 

I check out the pit toilets and decide that is not a place I would want to sit for even the shortest amount of time. It is dirty and I can see about 10,000 mosquitoes clinging to the side of the chute. I am not gonna be sitting, or shitting, down that chute. 

I drive around taking photos of the setting sun and then settle in for the night. 

It takes a while for the truck to cool down. But when it does I get a fairly good nights sleep and don’t hear the bugs anymore. 

The morning is very chilly so I get up early and hit the road…avoiding the pit toilets.

Next blog; Booneville and Ogalla.

Prelude. Travels with Sierra, or the Big Red Beast.

One of my ideas of a fun trip is to throw some camp gear and a mattress in the back of my pickup truck and boon dock camp as much as possible, taking copious photographs along the way. 

Boon dockings governmental technical term is dispersed camping. It is basically camping in free sites provided by the National Forest and the Bureau of Land Management. Most of these sites are nothing more than a clearing for parking or setting up a tent. No water. No electricity. No maids or room service. And no fees to stay. Quite a few of them are remote and have wonderful views of spectacular scenery. 

There are a lot of these West of the Mississippi.  East of the great Muddy, they are mostly called Walmart parking lots. 

My lovely wife is not much of a camper, preferring to stay in Hyatt Regency’s, or similar accommodations. Because of this, my manly camping trips become solo events. This usually works out for the best as I tend to wake up at dawn and take “100 pictures of the same damn thing”. Her words. 

After I have spent an allotted time wandering amongst the scenery and filling up my cameras SD card(s), we usually meet up and complete the trip staying at hotels, where our effective starting time changes to about 10 AM, and nice restaurants replace beef jerky and crackers.

This series of blogs is about the first part of a recent excursion to Wyoming; the driving, and the manly, boondock camping part.

To get started, let me share the basics of my tiny hotel on wheels, also known as the Big Red Beast. Here are a few pics showing how everything is crammed into the back of my 2013 GMC Sierra Pickup truck:

The view from the back of the truck:

The view from the side:

 

 My wife's suitcases and some extra bedding are hidden under the bed platform.

The front is also fairly well crammed with "stuff":

All the while I am loading up the gear, Peter Paul and Mary’s version of “Leaving on a Jet plane” keeps running through my mind; “My bags are packed and I’m ready to go…”

Next blog; Heading out of the Big Oh-hi-Oh.

What is your idea of an "ideal" trip?