Sunday, January 22, 2017

Oh God - Part Three

Part Three
“First of all, we need to clean up the mess I made. It really needs to be spotless. Jesus, you used to be a pretty classy carpenter. You can make a new table – but none outa cedar or gopher wood. I want that black ironwood from Vietnam. It’s gotta be smooth an’ shiny an’ black so you can see yer face in it. But don’t say nothin’ to yer mother. She gets hold o’ that Nellie Van de Goor an you’ll have them complainin’ about nepotism. I don’t need another lecture on how to conduct my business right now. Just keep it under yer hat ‘til it gets done.”
It seemed that God was regaining his dignified demeanor somewhat. Not that he apologized for the mess he’d made in the room, but he seemed to be developin’ a plan of action, judgin’ by the determined glint in his eye. “Family,” he said. “That’s where it all starts. I sure screwed that up right from the start. Well, what’s done is done, but we can fix that.  That’s why we gotta clean up this room in pristine fashion. From now on, this room will no longer be the boardroom, but a family /dinin’ room. This is where we’ll sit and share a meal an’ talk about things important to each of us. What we will do here is say what we gotta say, an’ listen to what others got to say. Then we’ll discuss ways we can come together on our differences – respectfully.

“The first thing we’ll do is to pull off that Tower of Babel stunt as soon as we meet again. If they didn’t learn the lesson first time, they’ll maybe get it the second turn around. That’ll take care of the acronym business once an’ for all. It should provide some good entertainment while we’re at it. Secondly, we’ll invite Schwartz to dinner an’ make him welcome as part of our family. I know that’ll be hard for you folks cause you’re as bull headed as he is, but you gotta try – no, not try but actually succeed. Remember, I said “forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those that trespass against us”. I wasn’t kiddin’ about that. Of course, it ain’t gonna be easy, but we gotta somehow et rid o’ that “us an’ them” attitude. That started right back there in the Garden of Eden an it’s high time it got sorted out. I should’a never kicked them out’s the garden where I could’a kept a closer eye on ‘em. Maybe I should’a provided a dinner table for ‘em to sit an’ eat an’ discuss things. They was so combative right from the get go, we could’a had a better outcome if we’d had a reasonable conversation ahead o’ events rather than after the fact.

Saturday, January 14, 2017

Oh God - Part Two

Oh my God -Part Two
Peter glanced over at his partner, Paul and got no encouragement. This was definitely not going to be a good day. “ P. R. is an abbreviation for Public Relations and Millenials are people born around the turn of the century,” Peter replied obediently, hoping to appease the Lord with a direct answer. Well THAT was a bust too.
“And,” continued the Lord. “what’s an LGBTQ an’ how’dya pronounce that?” It was gettin’ very warm in the boardroom. Peter didn’t know what to say or who to pin the dilemma on.
“Well you see,” he sputtered, “it’s an acronym for all the groups o’ people who feel they have no voice, but they want to be heard an’ they ain’t havin’ any luck. There’s just too many o’ the rulin’ class yelling out their own agendas. It’s just a total mess. So we hired a promoter to develop a means that this could happen. What he’s doin’ is takin’ the first letter of each group and amalgamatin’ them into an anagram that every one will recognize, thus givin’ them a voice that everybody will recognize. That way people will know who’s talkin’ an’ perhaps pay some attention.”
Peter was just startin’ to feel a little vindicated when God asked, “Who is this promoter an’ where did he come from?”
“Well, he’s sort of on loan from – from – you know. His name is Schwartz an’ he’s really good at this stuff.”
“Schwartz? Schwartz? You mean the Schwartz that promoted buildin’ the Tower of Babel?” Thundered God as he slammed his fist down on the long oak table, smashin’ it into a million tiny splinters. “Jesus!” he roared.
Jesus of course was sittin’ in the boardroom. “Good one dad,” he chuckled. “I done that a couple’a thousand years ago at the walls o’ the temple. It sure got their attention at that time too. But slowly the greed for money took over again an’ we’re right back to square one.”
“I Damn it!” God muttered under his breath. He would have said ‘God Damn it’ but since he was God, this was more appropriate.  “Them people are always tryin’ to take over the world -my world. Well, they’re gonna get a big surprise when they find out what they’re up against. Especially Schwartz. I can see now he’s nothin’ more than an agent of Lucifer. He can lead them astray all he wants, but me, he can’t confuse.
“Even when I drowned all them critters durin’ the great flood, I was good enough to preserve two of each to start all over again. Then when I froze the earth, I left just enough room for some who could withstand it to be able to survive. An’ still they persist in tryin’ to unlock the secrets of my world. Biggest mistake I ever made was to give them dominion over all creation. They got the idea that they could also have dominion over me as well. Hah! That’ll be the frosty Friday!

“Listen you bunch, we gotta get things sorted out once an’ for all. We’re all family here an’ as such we gotta stick together, come hell or high water. Here’s what we’re gonna do:

Saturday, January 7, 2017

Oh God - Part One

Oh My God!
Part One
It all started with a conversation me an’ the Missus was havin’ early one mornin’ at breakfast. We was watchin’ the news an’ somebody had died, leavin’ a bunch o’ tweets sendin’ condolences to the family. Them things was readin’ stuff like: ‘he’s at peace’ or: ‘he’s in a better place’ – stuff like that. It didn’t impress the Missus all that much. Well, she was talkin’ about the souls of the dead, not their bodies. Bein’ raised a strict Roman Catholic, she’s developed a few jaded ideas about the subject over time.
I, on the other hand have had some experience with ‘the other side’ after the passing of old Walter Bergen at the age of ninety- eight and also my late mother-in-law. It could have been just my imagination, or I might just have had a real glimpse of what goes on in heaven and hell.
What, of all things that caught my attention was a piece of the Lord’s Prayer that says; ‘Thy kingdom come. Thy Will be done on earth as it is in Heaven’.  The first thing that came to mind was thanks givin’ dinner. Well, you’da said the same thing if you had been at the last full board meetin’ in heaven. Things ain’t no different up there than down here on earth. This particular year-end meetin’ was an important one in which God hisself would preside. He didn’t fool around neither. He got right down to business.
“We seem to have some strange language goin’ on round here,” he boomed in his thunderous voice. “What kind o’ words are you folks mutterin’ in yer conversation these days?”
“We’re just keepin up with the younger generation boss,” said St. Peter. “That’s how they talk these days.”
“Aw, Crap!” said the Lord. “Not again. Who’s behind this anyways?”
“Well, our P. R. department thought they’d get ahead of the curve an’ do a pilot project for future use by the Millenials,” answered Peter.
God had a perplexed countenance about him. He leveled his eyes directly on St. Peter. “What, pray tell, is a P. R. department and who the H. E. double hockey sticks are Millenials?”

Saturday, December 31, 2016


To the followers of my Blogs

Following the Lord's Prayer, the statement that says;'Thy will be done on earth as it is in Heaven' struck a chord with me and I wondered if that in fact is the case. Well, my imagination went to work and put my pen in gear to the point where I couldn't stop in time.

That said, I have to finish what I started so you'll have to wait for a few days for me to finish my rant.

Thank you all for following, and good wishes for the new year!

Saturday, December 24, 2016

The Art of Negotiation

The Art of Negotiation
When Moses threw down his staff at Pharaoh’s feet, it turned into a serpent. Then he picked it up and it returned to a staff again. Pharaoh called one o’ his magicians an’ he done the exact same thing. Well that was only the openin’ gambit that Moses an’ Aaron presented. Each plague became increasingly more horrendous, an’ pharaoh’s magicians could always equal them an he wouldn’t let the Jews out of bondage until the threat of the life o’ the first-born son o’ each family came up. That finally rattled Pharaoh’s bones an’ he relented reluctantly. The final blow came when Pharaoh changed his mind an’ his army chased Moses into the Red Sea an’ was swallowed up by it. So by divine intervention, Moses sorta’ won the negotiation.
The negotiation that got to me even more was one that took place in modern times in actual circumstances that we all know about. I picked up a book at the library that contained correspondence by that diminutive lion, Desmond Tutu to the Apartheid Government of South Africa of the day. You could identify the steps of negotiating he was using and even if his letters were addressed to you, you would recognize them an’ still like it. It was he who was more instrumental in dismantling that government than anybody else. And the exchanges were all executed with grace and dignity. Not only that, but after the fall of the government and the installation of Mandella, Tutu established the Truth and Reconciliation Commission, a most remarkable tribunal that changed the dynamic from US and THEM to all of US. That was probably the hardest part of the whole process, certainly the most gut wrenching. And it was painful, but in the end it was done and all were changed by it.
See, that’s what I was tryin’ to get at. For someone to absolutely win a negotiation, you need divine intervention, but for a successful negotiation, you need to get rid of the “Us and Them” and replace it with “We”. When you do that, both parties will benefit, or at least that’s how it seems to me from up here on the top shelf.

Just sayin’.

Saturday, December 17, 2016


Will there be fries with that? Of course! Well if ya gotta eat crow, ya might as well curb the taste somewhat, cause crow ain’t anybody’s favorite diet, ‘specially when the dessert course is humble pie. It’s a little bit like when yer mom said you’ll eat every bite on yer plate before ya get to go play an’ that’s all there is to it. There’s only one way out an’ that’s to hunker down an’ clean the plate.
Nobody ever expects to get served up such a menu, so it’s always a shock when it arrives at yer table. An’ the first thing ya do is try to figure out what happened here. What’d I do to deserve this? It must be someone else’s fault, but whose? It turns out I’ve served up the menu to myself (if I wanna be honest about it). What do ya think I found out?
For years I been busy dissin’ the haters for their stupid opinions. How can they possibly be so intransigent in holdin’ to their obviously wrong opinions? Oh, wait a minute here. That could apply to me too, couldn’t it? It turns out that I’m just as obstinate as them what don’t agree with me. Holy Hannah! That means they think as much of me as I do o’ them. I suddenly heard my father’s voice sayin’ “With my fist in my pocket, I beat the tar out o’ him”, meaning his idiot boss (in his mind). What that actually meant was that he could vent his rage to his heart’s content without getting to actual verbal (or physical) blows. The next day they would go about their business in a usual friendly way, negotiatin’ their way through the disagreement they’d had like the gentlemen they were.
The trick then is to get yer own personal rage over with privately, an’ then figure out a way to respectfully engage in dialogue to communicate with the other parties to reach some consensus. An’ now that I’ve made my menu selection, by the time I got it choked down, I figure I might just have the problem solved. At least that’s how it seems to me from up here on the top shelf.

Just sayin’. 

Saturday, December 10, 2016

I Resign

I Resign!
Yeah, you heard right! I resign – from government that is. Well, perhaps I ought’a rephrase that a bit. I ain’t in the government so I can’t literally resign from something I ain’t part of to start with, but I can resign from talkin’ about it or readin’ about it, an that’s exactly what I plan to do.
Of course, I’m talkin’ about all that hateful poison bein’ puked out on Facebook an’ Twitter. I never seen such a lot of venom spewed out by normally nice, respectful people who expose themselves for what they really are. I have to say it’s disheartening at the very least and sometimes quite sad. I still haven’t figured out whether this deprecatory behavior is the result of assumed anonymity, a crowd mentality, or just plain ignorance. Could be one or all those things, but it don’t matter one way or the other. The point is, I don’t want to have anythin’ to do with that sort o’ clap-trap.  So, I figure by deletin’ it on my facebook page I’ll accomplish a number o’ things. Firstly, my page’ll be a lot cleaner an’ a lot more positive to look at. An’ secondly, it’ll make my blog appear more boldly. Now I ain’t gonna unfriend anybody. There’s too many other factors important to my friends an’ me. Naw, I just wanna wipe the trash off my page. That way I won’t have to look at it every time I go on there.
But before I do that, I’ll have to confess to one last swipe I took at Kelly Leitch. But I know now what I have to do. I’ll have to abide by the advice I gave to Jamie; that is to get myself a big brown paper bag like the ones we used to get at Eaton’s. Then I can stick my head in it and cuss to my heart’s content without startin’ a fight with someone or somethin’ I care about. At least that’s how it seems to me from up here on the top shelf.

Just sayin’.