A Tale of Two Husbands.

Once there were two boys who were very close friends. They went to school together, played after school together and went fishing and poking together on weekends. They were tree frogs. One day after they had graduated from High School, Greenie said to Pale, “You know, Pale, all of our sisters and brothers are already married, and we alone are not. Isn’t that strange?” Pale thought for a moment and said, “No, Greenie, that isn't strange at all. You see, we love each other, and because we are both men, we are not allowed to get married.” Greenie said “Well Pale, that is just plain wrong. We love each other and want to spend the rest of our lives together so why shouldn't we get married?”

Pale didn't have an answer, so they went to the courthouse and asked the clerk, an officious Blue jay, if they could get a marriage license. “Of COURSE NOT you dumb frogs. You are both men, and men can’t marry each other.” “Why not?” asked Pale. “WHY NOT? Uhhhh, I am not really sure why not, now that you ask. We better ask the Magistrate. He is a wise old Badger and will surely know."

So the three of them went to see the Magistrate, who laughed out loud when he heard the question. “Married. Men to men? Never been done before, that’s why. Never been done before”, and he went back to sleep.

Pale and Greenie then went to see their grandfrogs who were bathing in a nearby pool. After discussing the problem, Pale’s grandfrog said ‘You know Pale I really don’t know why you shouldn't or couldn't marry Greenie. He is a fine boy and would make good husband. And Greenie’s grandfrog agreed and said "Let’s go talk to your fathers and mothers." So off they went. Pale’s and Greenie’s  fathers and mothers agreed that there should be no reason at all why he and Greenie shouldn’t and couldn’t get married, and they all marched off to the Magistrate’s Office.

When confronted with all the frogs from both families, the Magistrate said “Well, I can’t find any law that speaks to this question, so I will just do it.” And he did.

And they lived happily ever after, husband and husband, in a life of peace and tranquility. And the best part? Because they had the courage to seek their love’s ambition, many other couples did the same, and the world was a happier place. Sometimes you just have to do what you have to do, don’t you?

Image: http://thumbs.dreamstime.com/x/two-australian-tree-frogs-7821609.jpg

A Tale of Old Friends and Regrets

Once upon a time, there was an old Grandma skunk, known just as Miz Skunk. She had lived a long and relatively happy life in the woods near where she was born. She had many grandchildren and a few living children. Her memory was not as good as it once was, and she had to ask “What’s your name again sweetie?” more than she ought to.

One day she was walking to the store when she ran into an old friend, Miz Possum. Miz Possum said “Nice day isn’t it Miz Skunk?” and Miz Skunk said “Yes it is. Yes it is. What’s your name again sweetie?”

Well, Miz Possum was a bit put out by this. After all, they had been friends for years and years, and the thought that Miz Skunk didn’t even know who she was really made her mad. She just “Humphed” and waddled off. “Humph? That’s a funny name” said Miz Skunk, and continued on to the store. All her groceries fit in a small bag (Old Skunks don’t eat all that much) and she started on home. Along the way she took the wrong turn and got so completely lost that she was going around in circles. A couple of youngsters saw her and started to laugh. “Silly old Miz Skunk” they called. “Where you going Miz Skunk” they called. Miz Skunk heard the derision in their laughter and just curled up in a ball and cried. “I am LOST!! LOST!! I can’t find my way home and I am frightened.”

One of the kids ran off to get Miz Possum to try to help. When she heard about Miz Skunk, she thought “Lawd, that could be me. I must help her quickly.” She waddled quickly to the place where Miz Skunk lay curled up and said “Miz Skunk? Miz Skunk? I am here now and everything will be fine Miz Skunk? Miz Skunk?” But Miz Skunk didn’t move. “MIZ SKUNK!” cried Miz Possum. “MIZ SKUNK TALK TO ME!” But Miz Skunk was gone. Her heart had given out. And Miz Possum never got a chance to tell her her name.

Image: https://c1.staticflickr.com/3/2369/2013784377_29f8de2fb7.jpg

Lessons Forgotten from a Mother’s Pouch

A bunch of young animals were in school one day when the teacher, Mr. Owl, told them about the bad weather on the way. He said an egret had seen thunder clouds moving in and heavy rain and wind. Mr. Owl and the Principal, Mrs. Turkey, decided to let the children out early so they could be home when the storm struck. He told all the children to run, fly or slither home as quickly as possible.

It didn’t take long for the classroom to empty, and soon Mouse and Snake and a few others were quickly moving through the field near the school. Suddenly, a bolt of lightning struck nearby and the rain started to fall very heavily.  The children were very frightened and tried to hide in an old hollow log. Just as Mouse ran into the log a low voice called from inside “Get out of my Home, you dratted noisy children.” Mouse looked up and saw two red eyes and a mouthful of sharp teeth. Old Mr. Possum looked at Mouse and said, “Oh, the warmbloods can stay if they must, but I won’t have any coldbloods in my house. You can’t trust them.”

Mouse looked behind him and saw that the other mice, a shrew and a vole were pushing ahead, while his friend Snake and the other coldbloods were shaking with fear. “Please Mr. Possum. Snake and the others are my friends from school and they are scared. Please let them share your log? Please?” Mr. Possum growled “NOT ON YOUR LIFE, BOY!”

About that time it really started to rain hard, and the log began to fill up with water. Mr. Possum began to mumble about the end of the world, and Mouse realized that he was as scared as the children. Just when things looked really bad, Snake poked his head in the opening and said “Mouse! There is another log a few feet away that is higher and bigger than this one. Hurry before it is too late. So all the children hurried to the new log except Mouse, who stayed behind. When Mr. Possum noticed that he and Mouse were alone he said “Well boy, why don’t you run off with the other brats?” Mouse said “Because I want you to come too. If you stay here you might drown, and that would be a shame.” “Why should you care what happens to a grumpy old codger like me?” “Because you are an animal like the rest of us and you must have some kindness left in you after all the years you have been here.”

Well, Mr. Possum was speechless. Talked to like that from a whippersnapper of a mouse of all things. He said “Boy, you have no idea, just no idea at all what my life has been like. Chased by dogs and cats. Laughed at by humans and chased by them until I fainted, hunted by coyotes and foxes. It has been a hard life and I am afraid of dying. I think that is why I am so very ornery. I strike out so no one gets close to me. Please, Mouse, just go let me alone to die.”

At that Mouse shouted (the wind was getting very noisy) “NO WAY! YOU REMIND ME OF MY GRANDPA, AND I WOULD NEVER LEAVE HIM BEHIND. NOW COME ON OR WE WILL BOTH DIE!!!”

With that, Mouse bit Mr. Possum’s tail. Mr. Possum jumped up and chased Mouse right out of the log and into the nearby higher one. When he realized that he had been tricked into saving himself he was ashamed, and when he felt all the children hugging him, yes, even the coldbloods, he began to cry. He had forgotten the first lesson his mother taught him while he was still in her pouch: Treat all animals with kindness and respect and you will get kindness and respect in return. After the storm was over, Mr. Possum escorted all the children to their homes and explained why they were late for supper. He never felt better in his life, and had made many friends. Several months later, Mr. Possum died quietly in his sleep in his new big log, dreaming of all the children who were his friends. He knew he was the luckiest possum in the world, and the children knew that he had loved them all.

Image: http://i2.photobucket.com/albums/y2/bob--o/P1010183.jpg

“What the Hell is Wrong with You People?”

First, let me assure you that I am NOT talking about any particular person or family. That out of the way let me rant on. What I want to know is “What the Hell is Wrong with You People?” Every day I see postings on Facebook and Twitter, and get emails from people about it, and hear about it directly from people.

What is it you ask? Some variant of this: “Yea. I am going to be a grandmother (or grandfather) again!! Isn’t that GREAT?”   Well no, it actually isn’t great. And here is why: The world already has too many people to sustain in the long run, defined as the next 50 – 100 years. Resources are being consumed at a much higher rate than is sustainable: Water, fossil fuels, farm land etc.  Pollution is growing at alarming rates of increase. Wars, famines and plagues abound. Climate is changing so fast that the world as we know it will be lucky to survive the next 50 years.

In other words, the best case scenarios show a bleak picture for the next 5 to 10 decades. Some predict utter ruin. Now, given this likely world, why would anyone want to bring another child into what will certainly be a miserable, dangerous and depleted world? Do you have any idea of the suffering the human population will experience in the next 10 decades? And grandbabies will suffer the most because they will live in it. They will be screwed in so many ways it is almost impossible and unbearable to contemplate. Why would anyone want to have their kin suffer like the next generations are going to suffer?

I know your answer: “Never going to happen". Either 1. God will save us or 2. Science is full of crap and none of this will happen or 3. Maybe in the rest of the world but not here or 4. Some other totally absurd excuse for looking the other way.

Well folks, it will happen, and if God (if there is a god) gave a crap we wouldn’t be in this cesspool, and as for the other excuses, they are all misguided. Science is right about this; it is already happening here and there is no way out.

I therefore repeat: “What the Hell is Wrong with You People?”

Image: http://www.sfgate.com/blogs/images/sfgate/parenting/2007/07/26/SayNo-Babies.png

A Tale of Friends and Baths

Tortoise went down to the pond for a drink one morning, and found Dove lying on the bank with an injured wing. “What happened, Dove?” exclaimed Tortoise! “I was almost caught by a hawk, but she let go and I fell to the ground in the reeds and she couldn’t find me. I am afraid someone will come along and eat me.”

Tortoise thought a minute and said “I have room in my burrow if you would like to rest there until you can fly again.” “Oh Tortoise, thank you. But I could never get there. I am too weak.”

Tortoise thought another minute and said “If you could manage to get on my shell, I will carry you.” So Dove tried and tried, and finally gave up. “I am just too weak to get up that high. Leave me Tortoise, before someone comes along and eats both of us.”

So Tortoise thought for another minute and said “I will dig a hole next to you and you can just step onto my shell. Then we can get you to my burrow and safety." Tortoise scratched a depression next to Dove, and she was able to climb onto his shell.

They finally got to the burrow, and Tortoise said “Dove, roll off and make your way into my burrow. At the end you will find a nest with dry grass, where you can rest and heal. There are some grass heads there for you to eat and I will bring more  Don’t worry, you will be safe with me.” But Tortoise never came back. After a while, Dove was able to fly and she left the burrow.

The following year, Dove was flying to a bird feeder when she saw a small pen in the corner of the yard. She noticed movement and went to see what was moving. To her horror it was Tortoise. “Tortoise”, she cried!!  “I thought you were dead.” “I might as well be dead” he said. “When I was getting some grass heads for you, a boy picked me up and put me in this pen. I have been walking around the wire ever since looking for a way out. I hate being captured.”

Dove thought a minute and said, “I see the latch that keeps the pen closed. Maybe I can pull it open with my claws and wings and free you.” So Dove grabbed the string that held the latch and flew up, pulling the latch as she went. She pulled and pulled, and gradually the latch lifted and the door opened a little. Tortoise pushed his way through the gate and walked into the woods, free after more than a year in captivity. Dove landed on his shell as he walked and said “Now you are free. As you saved me, so I saved you. It is the way with friends, is it not?”

Tortoise thought for a minute and said “Yes Dove. Friends are always there for each other. I can never thank you enough for helping me escape. You are a true friend.” Dove blushed and said “Oh Tortoise, we will always be friends, and we will always look out for each other. Let’s go to the pond for a nice bath and swim!”

And so off they went to the pond, Dove riding on Tortoise's shell, where Tortoise had his first swim in a year and Dove had a well-deserved bath.

Image: http://www.gillsinmalawi.com/Tortoise%20and%20bird.jpg

A Tale of Friendship and Bravery

Unlikely Friends

Hedgehog and Rabbit were walking their children to school one morning, taking care to keep away from each other. Rabbit was overheard telling his children to “keep away from the Hedgehogs. They are NOT our kind of animals.”. Hedgehog overheard that remark and told his children the same thing. All the children were confused, because they sat together in school, and didn’t see any reason not to be friends.

One day on the way home from school, a young Rabbit decided to investigate a new bramble patch, and was cornered by a snake. The snake said “Yummm. You look like DINNER to me”, and was about to strike when a young Hedgehog jumped in front of the rabbit and said “Leave my friend alone, snake. Eat me if you think you can swallow a pincushion!” The snake decided that these young animals were going to be real trouble, and left them alone.

Later, after hearing the story from his daughter, Rabbit knocked on Hedgehog’s door. When Hedgehog saw who was knocking, he slammed the door open and angrily asked “What do YOU want, Rabbit? We have nothing for you here” and was about slam the door shut when his daughter asked Rabbit how his daughter was. “What do you mean?” asked her father. “I helped my friend escape from a snake today on the way home from school, and I just wanted to know how she is doing.”

Hedgehog asked Rabbit to come inside for a minute and both fathers listened to the story with amazement. After young Hedgehog finished her tale, Rabbit looked at Hedgehog and said “I came to thank your daughter for saving mine. I guess even though we are different, we have much in common and much to be thankful for. Do you think we could be friends too?”

Hedgehog agreed that they should get to know each other better, and invited all of Rabbit's family for Sunday Dinner. A good time was had by all, and they all saw that their differences were reasons for joy and wonder, not hatred. Many years later, as they shared Sunday dinner, Hedgehog’s and Rabbit’s great grandchildren were still talking about the day a Hedgehog saved a rabbit from a snake.

Image: http://www.acuteaday.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2012/07/hedgehog-with-rabbit-sticking-tongue-out.jpg 

Why Does Woody Write?

Christmas  in Italy, 2011

This question has been percolating in my brain for a week or more. I checked the stats just now: 658 posted essays and 30 drafts in waiting. The total number of “views” is just over 31400 and counting at a rate of about 1100 per month. Wow. That is a lot of writing and a bunch of reading.

So why does Woody write? Well, the simple answer probably is a list of verbs of one kind or another: learn, teach, inform, illuminate, amuse, reveal and more. The list is long I think. As I have heard other writers (is it hubris to refer to myself as a “writer”?) say, I write for myself, to help solidify my thoughts, or to unravel tangled memories and emotions. I read back over old essays occasionally and wonder what was on my mind when I wrote that, or, damn, that’s good. Bet you couldn't do it again you old fraud.

I write to remember, about people and places and things and relationships. I am now constructing an essay about a rather dark time in my teens, and waited until all the other principles were dead to publish for fear of hurting someone who was close to the events. I find that writing is a purgative of sorts as well. Getting thoughts on “paper” (funny, isn’t it how we still talk about writing on paper and making “carbon copies” of stuff?) allows me to process the daemons and angels in a positive way, and to seek and grant forgiveness.

And of course I write in the hopes that someone will read. And benefit somehow. Well, that part seems to have worked out. Thirty-one Thousand and change is a huge number of reads, and if only half of the hits were actually read, well that is a big number too. But what is surprising is the very few responses. Very few discussions were started when I was trying to provoke. Very few “bullshit” retorts when I was trying to clarify my view of truth. Very few responses. None of the essays have gone viral. Or even sent on to others as best as I can tell.

Why do I write? To write. And later so I can read about my wanderings if I forget.

Thanks for reading my stuff. I know you do.

Image: 

Which is More Disgusting? Daemons or Cannibals?

Lucifer: Just another Angel, only fallen

Just days after my essay, “Religious Freedom for All or Some” (1) was published, the following article appeared on the cnsnews.com website (2). The gist is this: A Satanist church has booked a Satanic Black Mass to take place at the Oklahoma City Civic Center on Sept. 21. The Catholic Church feels threatened and outraged and wants the event canceled. The Civic Center says it is a public forum, and therefore anyone can rent it for any lawful purpose. And don’t forget that the Supreme Court of the Land has said that religious practices are lawful. End of argument. The snippets below are from the cnsnews.com article with my comments in brackets:

Oklahoma City Archbishop Paul Coakley condemned the proposed anti-Catholic ritual on July 1 and called on city officials there to cancel the event.  [the archbishop wants to hold Catholic rituals, but doesn’t want other religions to hold their rituals]

Leonine Exorcism prayer. “On that day, I, in the Cathedral, and every priest in his own parish, will pray a special prayer written by Pope Leo XIII for the defense of the Church against the attack of the Enemy and his apostate angels.” [this is a prayer to exorcise deamons, in this case, to protect against the Deamon Baphomet, or Satan, and to get the Civic Center to cancel the show]

Naju after bread turned to bloody flesh

Pope Francis elevates the Eucharist, or communion host, which Catholics believe is, once consecrated, the actual body and blood of Jesus Christ under the appearance of bread. [and in other news, the Catholic Church practices anthropophagy, or, cannibalism, which many people find disgusting and would like to outlaw]

So who is the hypocrite here? Watch your answer, it may be wrong.

1.http://searchesworld.blogspot.com/2014/08/religious-freedom-for-all-or-some.html

2. http://cnsnews.com/news/article/michael-w-chapman/catholic-bishop-stop-satanic-mass-orgiastic-ritual-pain-and

Image: http://www.zbrushcentral.com/attachment.php?attachmentid=54303

Image: http://www.ourlady.ca/pictures/najumouth.jpg

Cars, Dads and Wives.

Not Mine, but Close. 

A commentator on NPR (1) yesterday was talking about boys bonding with fathers with a car as the, no pun intended, vehicle. Got me thinking about my generation, pre-boomer, high school in the 50’s, and my first car at 12. That was a 1933 Pontiac 4 door sedan with running boards and duel spare tires on the front fenders. Straight 8. Eighty horsepower. Of course I couldn't drive it on public roads, so the farm roads were my world. I made an oval track on about an acre and raced around it for hours. Turned it on its side a few times but nothing major. Of course no seat belts or other safety gizmos. Mechanical brakes. Five gallon gas can in the back seat for a gas tank. Unsecured. I was lucky I didn’t burn myself to death.

Then, when I was 16, I bought the 49 Ford convertible. Saved up from paper routes and produce boy at Penn Fruit, and paid $250 for it. Beautiful hot rod.  V8, Crestline chrome, Carson top, custom grill, custom interior in black and white, skirts, nosed, decked, lowered, duel Stromberg 97s, milled heads, Mallory ignition and wicked pipes. Red. I spent days of time working on it. Over the next three years I replace or rebuilt 9 transmissions, 3 rear ends and 3 drive shafts. The drive train was just not up to the power delivered by the reworked engine, or the drag racing moron behind the wheel. But Oh My did I have fun in that car. Drunk driving, girl hunting, buddy racing, rumbling with a few gangs from out of town, driving to Florida, pissing off Mr. Canosa, the Assistant Principal at Roslyn High.

Driving, always driving. But no bonding. My father knew cars, but worked almost all the time. He would occasionally offer some advice, usually good, but never got with me on a project. We worked some together in the summers, and fished together some as well. We had one of those father-son things that didn't include much touching. So I could relate to the guy on the radio about cars, but not about dads. Still, I had a kick-ass car and a good father. When the Ford finally gave up in 1959, he helped me buy a 1959 Chevy 2 door post coupe. Basic with a 283 V8. Blue. Good transportation but never the “flash” of the Ford.

Same year, model and color. Not mine.

From there, the auto odyssey moved to a series of rebuilds that included a ’61 Ford convertible, a TR-3, a ’64 Thunderbird, a Datsun 1500, a ’66 Dodge Charger, a ’68 Roadrunner, a ’66 Olds coupe, a ’34 Ford Vicky, a ’49 Packard and a ’52 Plymouth, not in that order. Probably a few others I have forgotten.

But none ever approached or surpassed the ’49 convertible. One of these days I may get another oldie and play mechanic. But age is a funny thing. Desires and wants sometimes are transient, and what seems like a good idea today seems a bit silly tomorrow. But Sally never really knows what I may come home with. The beauty of Sally is this: whatever car I might come home with, she would accept, if not love, and what more could a man ask? Thing is, with Sally, what else do I really need?

Image:http://image.streetrodderweb.com/f/images/10979708+w195/0812sr_44_z+goodguys_ppg_nationals+1949_ford_convertible.jpg
Image:
http://www.boldride.com/image/http://farm9.staticflickr.com/8514/8504948408_a1e028c194_o.jpg?width=1024&height=770

1. http://www.npr.org/2014/08/05/338099738/complicated-cars-put-a-dent-in-an-old-father-son-ritual

Religious Freedom for All or Some?

One Logo of the United Church of Christ

Should a church and a pastor have the Religious Right to perform any ceremony within their own religion? Of course, you say. Shouldn’t the Catholic Church have the right to perform Exorcisms of Daemons, even though many people don’t believe in daemons? Shouldn't a Baptist Church have the right to perform Submersion Baptism even though it is potentially dangerous and could lead to infection and heart attack? Shouldn't many Christian churches have the right practice communion when they openly state they are feeding human body parts  to people which is illegal?

Of course, you say. So what about the United Church of Christ in North Carolina (1) that wants to perform their Sacrament of Marriage ? Of course, you say. Ah, but they want to marry same sex couples, and the State of North Carolina forbids the marriage of same sex couples.

See the problem? Religious Freedom either is or it isn’t a Right. If it is a right for some, it is a right for all. If not for all, then not for any. This is a very sticky problem for people with fundamentalist mind sets. They (maybe you?) cleave to the belief that only they have the right to do and say what they want, but others do not. They use their versions of Holy Scriptures to support their opinions and distortions.

Well people, it is probably time to get to the point of the Constitution and the Guarantee of Religious Freedom. Either it is, or it isn’t. And, the Supreme Court of the Land  said it is. Therefore it is. Period. And that means that backward and ignorant states like North Carolina are living in a bubble of prejudice. And that bubble will break, thanks in part to the United Church of Christ. Right on Brothers. If I were a believer, I would certainly follow you guys. Thanks.

Image: http://www.gsucc.org/GoodShepardChurch/files/ae/ae215ec3-b89f-4ed2-84ff-f5c4ad5d4586.jpg

1. http://www.thestate.com/2014/05/02/3423008/united-church-of-christ-sues-over.html