Near 500 words: Post Number 1000

How about that. This is Post Number 1000 for me. Wow! Maybe I should take a bow or something.

That was a couple of bows but I deserve it, don’t you think?

“Just how are we going to get all those animals on board?” Noah asked God after he checked the roster for the ark. There were so many animals, and the ark was so small.

“That’s for me to know and you to find out,” the blue sky answered.

“Ah, c’mon. Don’t do this.”

“Do what?”

“You know?”

“Listen, Noah, you have a problem with how things are going, just speak up. I’m a reasonable God.”

Noah held his words in. He knew arguing with God was not going to get him anywhere. “Okay, here I go again. Just how are You going to get all those animals aboard this ark? Sir?”

“Now that’s better,” God said. Then He spoke the magic words, “Abracadabra supercalifragilisticexpialidocious.”

“Where did You come up with those two words?”

“Walt Disney,” God chuckled. “Man, could that guy make movies.”

“I think you’re thinking of open sesame,” Noah contradicted his Boss.

“I’m sorry but I’m using abracadabra. It rolls right off the tongue. And supercalifragilisticexpialidocious is from ‘Mary Poppins’.” Then God started singing a little “A spoon full of sugar makes the medicine go down.” “Man, I love that song.”

“Right,” Noah said, not wishing to contradict God. (But there was a little sarcasm in his voice.) He’d be wasting time. And he didn’t have time to waste. The sky was getting cloudy and it was definitely going to rain.

If he’d learned anything, he’d learned not to argue with God. He could argue with his neighbor. He could argue with his sons. He could argue with his wife. But never ever argue with God. It was just a waste of time and he wasn’t going to win anyway. There was nothing God liked more than a good argument.

“Okay,” Noah said. “When do I say this abracadabra supercalifragilisticexpialidocious?”

“Next Tuesday,” God said.

“Next Tuesday? But I thought—”

“Look. It’s going to take a little time to get all those animals to behave.”

“But You made the heavens and the earth in seven days.”

“What do you think I am?” God asked. “A miracle worker?”

“Well, yeah.”

“Making everything was easy. Saving stuff takes a little more time. After you humans got ahold of things, everything went to hell in a hand basket. Why do you think We’re having a flood?

“I need five days to calm all the animals down. Those elephants are not happy, being bossed around. You can get trampled if you’re not careful. Those lions, man, they bite. And have you tried to clean up all that poop? If I am to dam them up for forty days and forty nights, it’s going to take some time. And I gotta tell you. That dove better be on time after You take off for parts unknown. If the ark doesn’t have a timely landing, the overflow is going to make the flood look like that pond in your back yard.”

Noah sighed. “You’re right, God. And when You’re right, You’re right.”

“Darrn tooting. Now let’s practice.”

“Okay,” Noah said, happy to be back on God’s good side. “Abracadabra supercalifragilisticexpialidocious.”

“No, not that. This,” then God lit out with the song. “A spoonful of sugar makes the medicine go down.”

Noah followed, “A spoonful of sugar makes the medicine go down.”

Noah’s wife, Mrs. Noah, yelled from the kitchen window. “Would you guys shut up out there? Who do you think you are? Mary Poppins. For God’s sake, you’re no Julie Andrews.”

Next week Noah’s wife gives God a bit of nutritional advice.”You do know that sugar is bad for you.”

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Near 500 words: The Mother of All Living

–from the Museo dell’Opera del Duomo, Florence

One of the most moving statues, for me, is “The Penitent Magdalene” by the Italian artist Donatello. With it, we get the figure of Mary Magdalene after years of wandering in the desert. It’s a statue that I love.

After spending some time gazing at pictures of it, I began to think of Eve. The Genesis story doesn’t give us much after she and Adam left the Garden of Eden. All we know is that Eve had three children.

One, Cain, murdered his younger brother, Abel. After Cain was banished to only God-knows-where, Eve and Adam had a third son. His name was Seth.

It seems to me that something is missing from that story. What was it like to leave the comfort and security of the Garden of Eden and spend their years wandering in a world that was so large and people-less? I began to imagine those two wandering souls and their regret for losing Eden. How they must have felt being cut off from God. The depth of their homesickness. Especially Eve, who gets the brunt of the blame for their banishment.

As I thought about the story, I remembered Psalm 137. This particular Psalm was written while the Jews were exiled in Babylon. It begins, “By the rivers of Babylon, there we sat down, yea, we wept, when we remembered Zion.” The Psalmist was speaking for anyone who has been forced from their homeland and cannot return.It’s the story of the African slaves. It’s the story of the Jewish, the Armenian and the Irish diaspora. It’s the story of the Syrian refugees and refugees everywhere.

So I wrote this poem.

“My heart is breaking,” 
Eve told the Earth. 
Then Eve scribbled the words
with the ink of her tears

into the dirt upon the Earth’s back. 
“My son murdered my son, 
and the murderer is a ghost 
haunting the valleys 
and the mountains.” 

Eve sat by a tree 
mourning her first born, 
mourning her second child, 
the blues in her eyes shedding  
seven hundred seventy-seven tears each day  
‘tween the sunrise and the moon. 
“Tree, my heart is bleeding,” 
she sang, her grief rising 
like smoke up to the ears of God. 

Eve went down  
to the church by the river Cry. 
She lit a votive candle 
and prayed the rosary 
one hundred and fifty times 
for the souls of her sons,

one whose life was taken away, 
one who took the life
and a third,
a new beginning. 

Police Brutality

It had been a long night for Jesus. First the Passover meal, then the praying in the Garden of Gethsemane, then a nice stroll around the Garden. Just as He was about to leave the Garden, this cop showed up.

“Gee, I was just out taking a walk,” Jesus said to the Roman cop.

“Don’t you know that this is a white rich guy neighborhood?” the cop said to Jesus.

“Isn’t it a free country?” Jesus said.

“Not for your kind,” the cop said to Jesus. “So are you going to go peacefully or are we going to call in the SWAT team for you and your boys over there?”

“You can’t do this,” Jesus said. “I know my rights.”

“Look, Buddy, the only right you got is to move along. If you don’t, we’re taking you to jail.”

“But—“ Jesus said

“Okay, Buddy,” the cop said and grabbed Jesus’ arm. “It’s jail for you.”

Jesus felt his sandal fall off. He went down to slip it back on. The cop pulled out his revolver and slammed Jesus over the head. “Hey, guys,” the cop shouted. “Resisting arrest.”

A “guy walks into a bar” story

Harry sits on the stool at the end of the bar.

“So he comes into the bar,” the bartender offers.

“Yeah?” Harry says.

“He comes into the bar with that long hair reaching down to his butt. Tells me a big lion story.”

“Don’t you mean a big fish story?” Harry asks, then finishes his beer. He motions for another bottle.

“I would if it was a big fish he killed. But he says it was a lion. This lion, the size of Jericho’s wall, springs out of a nearby bush as he’s on his way to that Delilah’s house.” The bartender takes a MIchelob out of the refrigerator, pops the cap and passes it over to Harry.

“Yeah, I’ve heard about her. She’ll screw anybody in pants.” Harry takes a swig of the beer.

“Or kilts. Anyway this lion heads straight toward him. Sammy grabs the lion by the head and throws it on the ground. Then twists the cat’s head until it is d-e-a-d.”

Harry and the bartender laugh.

In walks Sammy with a huge lion’s head. He throws the head on the bar and smiles. “I’ll take a brewsky.”

The bartender pours Sammy a large beer and sets it on the bar. Sammy picks it up and throws his head back and chug-a-lugs the beer down. He slams the mug onto the bar.

“What’ll you give me for this here kitty’s head? Make me a good offer ‘cause Delilah wants an expensive engagement ring.”

The bartender goes and opens up his safe. He pulls out a big wad of bills and gives them to Sammy. The big galoot takes the bills and counts them and slides the head over to the bartender.

On his way out of the bar, Sammy shakes his head and says, “Geez, that Delilah has become so…so Kardashian.”

The Good Book

I am a Good Book kind of guy. When I was growing up, all the other guys read the articles in Playboy Magazine. I read the Bible. You heard me right. The Bible. I kept wondering how it would turn out. I’ve never been a turn-to-the-end kind of reader. It always surprised me that Hercule Poirot hit the nail on the head and got the right guy. Usually the butler.

In those kind of books the butler did it. In fact, no matter what kind of book it is, the butler does it. So I wasn’t surprised when I got to the end of the Good Book to discover that Satan was the Butler.

Why did I read the Bible when all the other guys were finding out what Hef would wear to the prom? Certainly not for the clothes. I mean I wouldn’t be caught dead at a prom in a toga. The problem with togas is that you have to find matching shoes. Has anyone ever been able to find toga-matching shoes for a prom?

No. I wanted to find out who won the baseball game. After all, the Bible starts out with a baseball game. In the Big Inning. Spoiler alert: God wins. How He wins I am not telling. But He wins. The score isn’t even close.

I wondered if Noah’s Ark was the original Titanic? If so, where was the glacier? I even tried my hand at doing a Moses. I went down to the river close by my house and tried my hand at parting the waters. All I got for my trouble was a mouthful of water.

I thought my break out with the mumps was the first plague in Exodus. To get some relief, I told my mother to let my brother go. He was a regular Cain anyway.

I joined the marching band and took up trumpet. I figured it would be a great way to blow down the walls of the neighborhood bully. After all, it worked on Jericho for Joshua and his band of merry men.

Instead of working out, I did a Samson. I grew my hair long and expected strength. My back still hurts from the strain when I tried to pick up that VW Bug.

You’d think I would have learned. But no. I was arrested for carrying a sling shot without a license. I figured what was good enough for David was good enough for me. And I do live in an Open Carry State.

But you want to know the biggest disappointment. I couldn’t figure out how Solomon got seven hundred girlfriends. I tried reading “The Song of Solomon” to a number of girls at the college I went to. Talk about a great way to get slapped. That’s it.

There was one thing I did right. I didn’t put out the burning bush I saw in my back yard. I don’t care what my wife says. It could have been God. If God wants to burn down my house, what can I do? Besides FEMA and the insurance company paid for a whole new house. And my wife got the kitchen she’d been praying for.