Admission of Sins before Christmas
I was talking to my nephew the other day.
He informed me he wanted $100 for Christmas this year.
I asked him if he’d been good enough to deserve that much money.
He said he had.
His position is open to debate, depending on the source of opinion about his goodness, but he got me to thinking about some of the things I might have done that could be considered “bad” over the years. So, in effort to not deny myself the possibility of lumps of coal this year, I thought I’d fess up on a few.
1. I have put chicken stock in recipes I subsequently passed off as vegan. They recipients were smoking vegans so I figured they were hypocrites anyway. They asked me for the recipe.
2. I kept giving gum to a guy in tenth grade who had the habit of punching me in the hallway with brass knuckles. The gum was a laxative. He went to the doctor about his uncontrollable diarrhea.
3. In 9th grade I rebuilt a neighbor’s lawn mower engine. I forced a bolt with a hammer and cracked the crankcase on the motor. I fixed it with epoxy. It worked and sealed it. I never told the owner. But every time he mowed his lawn, I could see that crack.
4. In 1967, I ruined a tape recording my Grandmother and Grandfather were making on my Dad’s reel to reel tape recorder. In reality I didn’t. I was six. I danced around the room singing “Doody Doo, I’m dancing.” While my grandmother laid out on the couch singing “Bye Bye, Black Bird,” to the radio. My grandfather, tried to reason with me. He failed. My grandmother, remarked, “You know when this will be precious? After we are gone.” I doubt my Dad still has the tape.
So, now I’m sin free. I’m out watching the full moon, waiting for Santa to show up.
Tomorrow, if he smites me, I’m driving up to the new fallen snow and doing things with urethane composite materials strapped to my feet that Jesus never even thought of. But his contemporaries would consider a miracle. --Like, traveling two hundred miles and back in one day. The old guys in Israel needed angels for that.
I was on the annual Christmas hike today, and one of us wondered would happen if Jesus came back? I remarked, “Unfortunately he’d be a Palestinian and be deported.” We chuckled. Then I started thinking. “Oh jeese, what if he’s already come back. Maybe this is heaven on earth.” I mean I can hop to Tahoe and back pretty quick compared to the Israelites. I by all accounts should be deformed and pocked given all the diseases and injuries I’ve had and been cured of. By ancient Roman/Israelite standards, we do live in heaven. I know, that’s not good Christmas talk and all. Its suppose to be about peace on earth and whatnot.
In the mean time, Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night.
He informed me he wanted $100 for Christmas this year.
I asked him if he’d been good enough to deserve that much money.
He said he had.
His position is open to debate, depending on the source of opinion about his goodness, but he got me to thinking about some of the things I might have done that could be considered “bad” over the years. So, in effort to not deny myself the possibility of lumps of coal this year, I thought I’d fess up on a few.
1. I have put chicken stock in recipes I subsequently passed off as vegan. They recipients were smoking vegans so I figured they were hypocrites anyway. They asked me for the recipe.
2. I kept giving gum to a guy in tenth grade who had the habit of punching me in the hallway with brass knuckles. The gum was a laxative. He went to the doctor about his uncontrollable diarrhea.
3. In 9th grade I rebuilt a neighbor’s lawn mower engine. I forced a bolt with a hammer and cracked the crankcase on the motor. I fixed it with epoxy. It worked and sealed it. I never told the owner. But every time he mowed his lawn, I could see that crack.
4. In 1967, I ruined a tape recording my Grandmother and Grandfather were making on my Dad’s reel to reel tape recorder. In reality I didn’t. I was six. I danced around the room singing “Doody Doo, I’m dancing.” While my grandmother laid out on the couch singing “Bye Bye, Black Bird,” to the radio. My grandfather, tried to reason with me. He failed. My grandmother, remarked, “You know when this will be precious? After we are gone.” I doubt my Dad still has the tape.
So, now I’m sin free. I’m out watching the full moon, waiting for Santa to show up.
Tomorrow, if he smites me, I’m driving up to the new fallen snow and doing things with urethane composite materials strapped to my feet that Jesus never even thought of. But his contemporaries would consider a miracle. --Like, traveling two hundred miles and back in one day. The old guys in Israel needed angels for that.
I was on the annual Christmas hike today, and one of us wondered would happen if Jesus came back? I remarked, “Unfortunately he’d be a Palestinian and be deported.” We chuckled. Then I started thinking. “Oh jeese, what if he’s already come back. Maybe this is heaven on earth.” I mean I can hop to Tahoe and back pretty quick compared to the Israelites. I by all accounts should be deformed and pocked given all the diseases and injuries I’ve had and been cured of. By ancient Roman/Israelite standards, we do live in heaven. I know, that’s not good Christmas talk and all. Its suppose to be about peace on earth and whatnot.
In the mean time, Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night.
posted by Stan at 9:32 PM
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