Granted, Lot and his daughters had a really rough go of it since God sent two Angels to destroy their most recent hometown–Sodom.  It didn’t make matters any better that Lot’s wife died a horrible death and was turned into a pillar of salt as they fled the hell-fire unleashed on Sodom.  I’m sure the despair was devastating.  

Anyway, Lot and his daughters ended up in Zoar–a nearby town that was spared destruction by the Angels for the express purpose of being the sanctuary for Lot and his daughters.  Lot actually negotiated with the Angels to spare Zoar.  The Angels gave in and Lot had a safe place to flee to.  Lot didn’t get along with the people of Zoar, in fact, he feared them–so he and his two virgin daughters fled to the hills.  Caves to be precise.  Questionable choice if you ask me.

Here’s where things take a very uncomfortable turn.  The daughters–after living in the caves for a while with their Dad, Lot–come to the conclusion that they’re never going to be around other people again.  That means they’ll never marry and the family name has come to a dead end.  Put aside the fact that they fled from a town that wasn’t destroyed.  There were people there!  Men.  Men with sperm!

Enter incest.

The oldest daughter has this crazy proposition for the younger daughter.  “Let’s have sex with Dad!”  (Genesis 19:32)  “Better yet, let’s get him drunk first, then have sex with him!  Then we can have sons and carry on the family name!” 

“You first,” replied the youngest daughter. 

No problem.  The oldest daughter got her Dad so loaded on wine that he passed out.  She had sex with him and he never knew it.  She told her little sister what she had done.  “I had sex with Dad last night.  You’re up next tonight.” 

The youngest daughter complied.  She too, got Lot so blasted that he passed out again from the wine.  She, like her older sister, climbs on top of her Dad, has sex with him and goes back to her sister.  Lot, again, doesn’t realize he’s had sex with another virgin daughter.

Both the daughters become pregnant and bear sons.  One was named “Moab” which loosely translated means “from my father.  The second son was “Ben-amimi” which is “son of my relative.  Lot spoke the language.  He knew what the names meant.  Wow.

There are several points that are disturbing here, not the least of which is the incest.  First of all, it’s been my experience that if I were so drunk I was passed out–no boner is coming along anytime soon.  So, the obvious question is “was Lot really unaware that he was having sex with his daughters?” 

Second, both daughters were virgins.  We know that because he offered his “two virgin daughters” to a rape-hungry rabble in Sodom the night before the Angels obliterated it,  and everyone that stayed behind.  On another note, sex with a virgin takes some effort.  How’d he get this done passed out drunk?  Hmmmm? 

Third, there’s no mention of Lot ever questioning how his new sons/grandsons came to be.  I don’t know about you, but I’d be pretty curious about how my daughters got knocked up in the middle of nowhere, with no one else in sight.  And what about the names?  “C’mon Lot, you had to know something was up with a name like Moab, right?”

There’s apparently no repercussion for this act, as Lot and his daughters appear to live happily ever after.

Justifiable incest?  I’d love to know your thoughts!

Cheers!

Sodom was the biblical equivalent of Vegas without the neon.  Lot’s of drinking, gambling, stealing,  prostitution and buggering.  Yes, I said and meant buggering.  Apparently it was a right of passage for newcomers to Sodom. 

Sounds like the set for Hangover, right?

Lot, prolific-breeder-Abraham’s grandson, used to stalk out the entrance of the city of Sodom waiting for Angels to appear.  I suppose this was akin to playing the biblical lottery with about the same odds of success.  But, lo and behold, one day two Angels, disguised as men, did in fact meet Lot at the entrance of  Sodom.  (Miracles happen all the time in the Old Testament.)  The Angels were sent by the big man HIMself to destroy the city and everyone in it for being such a lecherous and wicked bunch.  Lot was thrilled to meet them.

He invited them back to his house to wash their feet and dine with his wife and two virgin daughters.  The Angels reluctantly agreed, and they walked through the city past gamblers, prostitutes, drunks, probably a few lawyers, and thugs on their way to Lots house.  Their presence didn’t go un-noticed.

All of the men from Sodom surrounded Lot’s house.  All of them.  Big crowd.  They demanded that Lot turn over the Angels to them so that they could bugger them.  Yes, I said bugger again, and it’s in the bible.  “Bring them out here so that we can have sex with them!”  the crowd demanded.  (Genesis 19:5)  Lot couldn’t bring himself to turn the Angels out to the rowdy, horny crowd….so he offered up the next best thing.  His two virgin daughters!  Yeah, that’s the ticket!

Lot went outside and addressed the rabble.  “Listen guys.  What you’re wanting to do with these two men is downright wicked, and I can’t let you do that to them, but I do have two virgin daughters!  You can have them!  No kidding.  I’ll go inside and bring them out to you guys.  You can do whatever you want to them.  How’s that sound?  But please leave the men alone.  They’re my house guests and I’m bound to protect them.”

I don’t know about your house, but I wouldn’t have survived that odd little exchange.  It’d be a close bet to see who would shoot me in the chest first, my wife or my daughter.  I’d be like, “Ok guys.  Sorry for the mix-up.  Take these strangers but please leave my daughter alone!”  Then I’d toss the Angels out the door (my wife and daughter would already be shoving them in that direction) knowing that if they were really Angels that nothing bad would happen to them, but that’s just me.

Even the Angels thought this was crazy talk, so they pulled Lot back inside.  Then the Angels blinded all of the men so that they couldn’t find the house.  (Personally, I would find the blinding thing a little distracting and I seriously doubt I’d care about finding the house and buggering strange men anymore.)  The rabble eventually left Lot’s house and they wandered about in the streets.

The following day, (you probably remember this part) Lot and his family fled Sodom as the Angels destroyed the city and everyone in it with a storm of fire and brimstone.  Lot’s wife  didnt’ listen to the warning that the Angels gave her, (shades of Eve?) so she looked back once the destruction began and was turned into a pillar of salt. 

Everybody died except Lot and his two daughters.

You won’t believe what happens next.  Stay tuned.

Cheers!

In the very beginning, Eve gets us off to a rocky start by doing her best Dr. Doolittle with a snake and doing precisely the one and only thing God forbade.  “Dammit Eve!  What were you thinking?”  Things quickly went from bad to worse.    God realized one of his first mistakes was letting man live an average life-span of upwards of 800 years!  He put the quick fix on that and shortened that average life-span to a scant 120 years.

God didn’t like what he created, and mankind turned out to be a total disappointment.  God was pissed, and he has a hair-trigger temper!  Mankind was consistently evil, slovenly, lustful and just generally no damn good.   God decided to clean the slate.  I’m talking total reset.  Start over.  Yep.  Everybody dies!

Enter Noah–the bible’s first drunk.

No wonder Noah got drunk.  God wiped the slate clean by deliberately drowning every living creature on the planet–including mankind– that wasn’t chosen to be on the ark.  Noah was witness.  Imagine what horror Noah must have seen.  Rains coming down, animals large and small flailing about in deep waters trying to survive–gasping for air, taking their last breath and sinking into the water.  Cries from people swimming towards the ark begging for mercy, only to drown right before Noah’s eyes.  Imagine what this must have sounded like.  Tough business.  This is far from the cartoon image of a smiling, bearded Noah, holding his staff, happily slapping animals on the ass as they enter the Ark two by two.  Not at all.  There was nothing happy about the flood.   Imagine the carnage.

Yep.  Noah was a prime candidate for prolonged therapy.

Eventually, the waters receded, and Noah and the gang got off the ark and started over.  Noah had three sons and they made quick business of repopulating the earth.  We’re all related to them.  All of us.

Noah planted a vineyard and did his best to forget the horrors he witnessed.  He spent his time farming and drinking. One night he got blazing drunk and passed out buck naked in his tent.  His son Ham found him and told his brothers “Dad’s good and drunk, and Dad’s good and naked too!”  The sons were ashamed of  Noah.   They covered their butt-naked Dad with a robe.  The next day, Noah realized that Ham found him drunk and told his brothers.  Noah got pissed at Ham for ratting him out, so he laid a curse on Ham.

Noah lived a ridiculously long life–950 years!

So, that’s the story of Noah the drunk.

I’m going to continue to post the stories the preacher left out, and for the record, there’s a lot of them.  Next up is:  Lott pimps his daughters!

Cheers!

I listened to every word the preacher said in his sermon, looking for some sort of divine message that was by God’s design meant specifically for me.  Didn’t quite get there.  Not the preachers fault.  I looked for distractions that would help me stay awake during the service and I picked up the Bible that was tucked away in the pew in front of me.  That’s when I found my profound moment, and it wasn’t necessarily a good one.

I held the Bible, opened it up, flipped through the pages and realized that the book I was holding in my hands is the pillar, the cornerstone, the very basis of civilized society.  There’s a lot of quotes from God himself in that book.  We’ve built a nation under God.  We swear on the bible in Court before we make testimony.  Truth is, I’m more familiar with Dr. Suess’s “Green Eggs and Ham” than I am with the contents of the bible.

Sure, I have the usual back-story reasonably down pat.  I know about Adam and Eve, Noah, the Ten Commandments and have a fairly decent grasp on the New Testament. That’s not what bothers me.  What bothers me is that I have not personally taken the time to read the whole Bible, front to back, and draw my own conclusions about what’s in there.

Here in my hand is the most important book ever written–and I bet few will argue that point–and I’ve never read it.  I looked around at the people in the church and wondered how many of them had read it themselves.  I’m not talking about being able to quote John 3:16.  I’m talking about really sitting down and reading it, cover to cover like a novel.  I’d bet very few.

As the service continued, two plates were passed around for communion.  One plate had small crackers–the Body of Christ, and the other had small plastic cups of wine–the Blood of Christ. People quietly ate and drank our Savior without a sound.  Where was the Spirit in this?  Where was the reverence?  People took this as casually as eating  Animal Crackers and Kool-Aid. In my mind, if you’re eating the body of Christ and drinking his blood, you should be quaking from this experience.  It should be one of the most profound and moving experiences you can partake in.  Instead, it was just another ritual.

I sat and wondered what this ritual of going to church really means.   Is it just a routine?  Can’t I worship God in my home. Do I have to come here to be saved?  Is this just something to do on Sundays before the game that makes people feel better?  How many people at church are just going through the motions?

Here’s what I decided to do.  I’m going to read the Bible. I’ve already started and let me tell you it’s one whopper of a read.  I finished Genesis.  Here’s what I used to think about Genesis.  God created stuff, including Man.  Eve ate the Apple and screwed things up for everybody.  Noah built an Ark, and all indications from the cartoon depictions I’ve seen showed that Noah was pretty happy about it.  Abraham had tons of sons.  I think most people have about the same knowledge base.

Here’s what I didn’t expect to find in Genesis.  Murder, rape, incest, polygamy, drunkenness, prostitution, theft, mass destruction and more.   Wow!  I was completely caught off guard, and Genesis is only the first book.

No worries, I’m not going to become a Bible-thumper, but I am going to have a weekly Bible for Beer Drinkers review.  I need to get as familiar with the most important book ever written as I am with “Green Eggs and Ham.”

Cheers!

Jim

Would anyone really pay $15.00 for a friggin’ hot dog? You bet.  I made some last night.  Here’s how you do it, and here’s what you get.  Upside–I guarantee you this is the tastiest dog you’ve ever eaten.  Downside–it takes over an hour to make.  Take me up on this.  Make this.  This is laugh out loud delicious.

You’re probably going to need to go Krogering first.  Here’s what you’ll need.  Jumbo Hot Dogs.  I use Hebrew National.  (This may be because I’m writing a novel that puts me in direct odds with God, so I’ll take any edge I can get until it’s done.)  A jar of red peppers, a head of garlic, olive oil, some funky Mexican melting cheese, some buns and Balsamic Vinegar.

Start with the garlic. Peel the garlic, cut off the ends, slice them and put them in an aluminum foil boat.

Off to the oven!

Drizzle them with olive oil and roast them in the oven at 400 degrees for about 45 minutes.  You want them roasted, not burnt.  They should look like this when you’re done.

Vampire-proofing your weiner!

Put the garlic in a bowl and let it sit for about 10-15 minutes.  Get your jar of red peppers and chop them up into chunky bite size pieces.Crush the roasted garlic with a rock and mix with the red peppers.  Add a couple of drizzles of Olive Oil.

Yummy!

Add some Mexican Cheese.   I’d prefer to use a Manchego, but I didn’t feel like going to the Super Mercado yesterday.  I used this and it worked out just fine.

Mexican Gooey Cheese

Here’s where you need to pay attention.  This is what makes the difference between a $12.00 hot dog and a $15.00 hot dog.  Put your giant wieners in a pot on the stove and cover them with water.  Bring the water to a boil, then take the wieners off of the burner and let them sit in the hot water for about 5 minutes or so.  Fire up your grill while you wait.  Go ahead and grill them.

Perfectly grilled wienees!

The boiling/grilling combo really makes them crisp and crunchy on the outside, and moist on the inside.  Lightly toast your buns.  This is important because these wienees are served wet.

Toasted, not burnt!

You’re almost done.  Put the dogs on the buns, top with the pepper/garlic/cheese mixture and drizzle a generous amount of Balsamic Vinegar on top.

Can't wait to eat!

Don’t forget that we’re in a recession, so don’t over do it with the sides and beverages.  The perfect Death Row Dinner should look like this.

Perfect dinner!

Make this.  I’d love to hear what you think.  BTW–not kidding about Death Row Dinners Catering Crew. I’ll post a menu in the next few days.  If you need something ridiculously delicious before that–hit me up.

Cheers!

Jim

It was an stirring, emotional performance, completely hypnotic and seductive. Mr. Cohen is a man who knows what it’s like to love a woman from the bottom of his soul.  The video is from last nights program and includes two of my favorite artistic expressions.  The first is “I’m Your Man.” This is a will-full, submissive surrender and declaration of love.   Just beautiful.  The bonus is after he sings “I’m Your Man” he recites the most beautiful love poem ever written–”A Thousand Kisses.”

Take the time to watch this.  I consider this the same as sharing one of my best recipes–a gift because I care about you.

If this doesn’t stir your soul, then nothing will.  “Who but you would take me in a thousand kisses deep?”

Cool personified. Class, elegance and the man can write like no other.

I hope you enjoy this as much as I did.   I’d love to hear your comments.

Cheers,

Jim

Chia-Obama

It comes in 2 models–”Determined Obama”  shown here, or “Happy Obama” shown on the side of the box.  I think this is creepy and he looks like a stoned greeter for Willy Wonka’s Chocolate Factory, or possibly OZ.

You can pick one of these up here.  This is being sold as a “symbol of Liberty…and makes the statement I’m proud to be an American.”

I’m ordering mine today.  These are sure to be collectible classics.

Cheers!

Jim

Good advice indeed.

I was surrounded by churches.  Maybe I could find out who I was in one of them.  Naw.  That’s not how we roll on abeerforbreakfast.  I had a much, much  better idea.  I’ll start my own church! Yessiree Bob!  Capital idea.  Before I start my church, I’m gonna need some church stuff and it probably wouldn’t hurt to get ordained.

I want my title to be Minister and I’m gonna need proof. So, it took me about three minutes to get on the net, find a link and blammo–instant Minister!! I got ordained here, and you can too!  I’m now an officially ordained Minister ready to marry people in Piedmont Park.

Next stop, the Georgia Farmers Market.You’re probably wondering why the Farmers Market right?  Well, because I need churchy stuff and they sell it here.

Plastic Pope only $4.99

I’m gonna start with come icons.  I’ll need a plastic Pope, some Mary’s, a couple of Saints and let’s not forget Jesus!  Wouldn’t be much of a church without him now, would it?

Scary Mary

I’ll be starting my church in an edgy part of town, so I opted for the cooler versions for my icons.  I’m pretty sure that’s Mary.

Skull Saints...cool for Halloween!

I’m gonna need some of those cards with prayers on them to put by the door.

Pick a card, any card

I had a really tough time choosing my Jesus, so I got one in black and another in white. Who really knows?

Black Jesus

The white ones were three for $9.99, so I loaded up.

On sale!

Okay, I’m officially ordained and I have churchy stuff.  After doing some research, I found out I can deduct the cost of my church, so I’m putting my church in my basement.  That should ease my tax burden quite a bit this year. I’m going to need at least one person to attend services on Sundays to make this legit, so please volunteer. Here’s what we’ll be eating after service.Service will start sometime around noon and we’ll be done before kick-off. Wear your blue jeans and jersey’s for your favorite teams…and bring along some blues CD’s that you can listen to while I give a sermon.  We can listen to this if you forget your CD’s.

We’ll also pass the glass.

Serving Wine is so passe. We've got a kegger!

On a serious note, I’m doing this for research for a new novel I’m writing, but I’ll bet The Man upstairs would not disapprove of my concept of a church at all.

God bless and cheers!

Jim

Here’s the video. I dedicate it to our President on his quest to become King of the World. Listen to it as you read the rest of this post.

Current events are taking every beer in my refrigerator to deal with. Czars, Government Motors, Government Banking, Government Healthcare, Cash for Clunkers, Cash for Appliances, Wall Street bail-out to newspaper bail-outs. Gigantic fucking government is no longer creeping up…it’s tackled me. I can’t bank, can’t buy a car, can’t buy a house, can’t get medical care without the GD government having a hand in it.  Fellini’s pizza now requires me to fill out a form with all of my personal data before I can get a pizza to go.  Upside–there’s a Government wonk in the men’s room waiting to wash my hands after I take a piss.

Here’s the weirdest part. Forget the back-breaking debt King Obama’s programs are going to burden our children with….we need to worry about our country’s place in the world. “No International balance of power.” Are you fucking kidding me Mr. President? Balance of power is exactly what has kept World order since WWI. US is no longer a super-power….on and on and on and on. President Obama is positioning the world for a post-USA era. He is surrendering. Once China succeeds with Russia on displacing the dollar as the back-up world currency….we are done, and you better be holding onto your nuts when it happens.

Relax...I'm on it.....

King Obama has declined Prime Minister Brown’s request for a meeting five times during the Bananna Republic UN sessions this week. Note to the Prez: The UK is our closest ally on the planet. Do Not Ignore. WTF is going on? Can’t the shadow government handle a meeting with Brown? Putin must have a giant hard-on every time he watches King Obama make another move that diminishes our country’s place on this planet.

BFFs?

The bully-pulpit has reached my living room and I don’t like it. I do like this song. I listen to it as I cower in fear as I watch the next thing our President will do to dismantle our Country. I cannot wait until the next election…assuming we’ll still have free elections. I’ll work with ACORN to make sure I get to vote multiple times and get these assholes out of office before they do irreparable harm to the county my family members died for in the name of freedom.

Shirtless Rulers! Cool!! Duh?

I was rooting for Obama, but I have fallen out of love with him and his policies. Frankly, he is scaring me.

Cheers,

Jim

What does this mean? Anyone?

Cheers!

Jim

I took another Pall Mall from the pack on the desk and fired it up.  I needed it to get through this.  I smoked it hard like the way Sean Penn smokes.

“Okay,” I said, “Mom was bleeding like crazy and shaking.  Her eyes were rolling but it seemed like she was trying to tell me something.  Artemus was talking super fast in Spanish and English at the same time, which was something he couldn’t help when he’d get real excited.  Nothing he said made any sense.  I just couldn’t comprehend anything at that moment.  Seconds seemed like hours and at some point Artemus stopped talking and looked painfully into my eyes.  He had this ability to speak to me without words.

Suddenly a childhood image flashed before my eyes of a time when I was at a horse race with Artemus and my Mom.  Two horses collided during the race and one fell.  The one that fell — a beautiful pitch black Arabian with crimson and yellow silks and a braided mane– crashed into the fence and its’ leg got broke that instant.  I was close enough to hear it snap.  I’ll never forget the sound – just like a dry branch breaking.  Crisp.  The jockey was thrown but not badly hurt.  The jockey got up, ran to the horse and the horse tried to keep running.  I just got sick looking at the horses’ leg broken like a chicken bone — clearly in two pieces, just dangling instead of holding straight — unable to support the weight and will of the body it belonged to.  It was a pathetic and profoundly pitiful sight.  That majestic animal was reduced so quickly to a helpless creature in the matter of seconds.  The jockey stopped the horse and got it to lie down on the ground.  Two men and a woman ran over to the horse.  The horse fell on its’ side shaking, trying to get up and it was breathing and snorting really heavy.  The loose red clay kicked up from the other horses on the track made a thick dust cloud, but I could still see.  The jockey laid on the horses side to keep it from trying to get up and kissed the horse over and over and kept stroking its’ head.  One of the other men held the horses’ head down with his knees to keep it from struggling.  The woman started crying hysterically and running in short circles on the track — first one direction, then another.  She was wearing a white dress with big blue polka dots.  Her hair was braided too and she had a ribbon that matched the horses’ silks.  Her hands alternately covered her face and pushed fists violently towards the ground.  She let out a desperate cry to the sky.  One of the two men took the saddle and the blanket off of the horse and covered the horse’s head with the blanket.  The horse was calm at this point.  Next thing I know I hear “Bang!” then “Bang!” again. One of the men stood over the horse with a smoking pistol in his hand.  The horse twitched for a minute and then lay still.  The jockey patted the horse’s dead body and then walked away without looking back.  I could literally see a tear fall from the jockey’s cheek and hit the red clay on the track.  I thought of that image as I held my mother in my arms.  It was a horrible memory.

Mom’s body continued to twitch violently and her black hair was getting thick with blood even though I couldn’t really see the color of blood in the darkness and the rain.  I took my hand and brushed her hair out of her face and gave her a kiss.  She stared at me.  I could tell that at that moment she was alert.  She forced a smile at me as if to say “yes, and I love you.”

I had to stop talking for a moment to catch my breath.

“Forgive me,” I whispered to her.  I held her close, kissed her on the cheek, her forehead and softly on her lips.  I held her for a moment and saw one of my tears land on her cheek.  Artemus stroked the tear from her cheek, and then kissed her hand.  I watched her squeeze his hands tightly at first, then relax.  She took a very deep breath.  Then I took her head and twisted as hard and as fast as I could.  Her neck snapped and it was over.  The suffering was over.  Her body fell limp in my arms.  Artemus and I both sat in the rain for about a half hour— just sobbing.  All three of us just held each other.”

I looked at the Judge and said “Judge Jones.  Do you know why they killed that horse?”

“Of course I do Thad,” he said, “They loved it.

That’s it.  Uplifting, huh?

Cheers!

Jim

Here are my 5 in chronological order.

1.  Where the Wild Things Are. Maurice Sendaks’ timeless fantasy bed-time story that reads well any time of day, no matter the readers age.  Instantly recognizable illustrations, both terrifying and comforting–a decidedly tough task.  Hollywood is making it into a film.  I’m sure they’ll screw it up.

2. Fear & Loathing in Las Vegas.  Hunter S. Thompson at the height of his pharmaceutical madness.  I remember sitting in the Atlanta Airport reading this and laughing hysterically out loud.  I wanted to hang out with Hunter.  His influence on me made me tap out my first book on an impossibly old Royal type-writer in my boxer shorts, wearing a fedora and smoking a cigarette using a cigarette holder.  Poser.

“The only thing that really worried me was the ether. There is nothing in the world more helpless and irresponsible and depraved than a man in the depths of an ether binge. And I knew we’d get into that rotten stuff pretty soon.”

3.  Tao Te Ching. I was a student at Georgia State University looking for the meaning of life.  This gave me comfort for a while.  I found this far more intriguing and meaningful than the bullshit slung by my philosophy professors.

4.  Ninety-two in the Shade. A crazed road-trip through the lunatic fringe of Key West.  A dirty trick goes awry and a deadly promise on a life is realized.  This book made me want to be a writer, and it made me nervous.  Thomas McGuane just blew me away.  Still does.   

5.  The Theory & Practice of Rivers and New Poems. Jim Harrison–one eyed wonder from upstate Michigan can write.  Here he waxes nostalgic about life and romance.  Sure he wrote Legends of the Fall, but his lesser know work is his best.  I loved Creatures That God Forgot to Invent.  The Theory & Practice of Rivers and New Poems was given to me by my camera-man when I was a television director.  Jim Harrison made me want to write well.

“One day standing in a river with my flyrod I’ll have the courage to admit my life. And you my loves, few as there have been, let’s lie and say it could never have been otherwise.  So that:  we may glide off in peace, not howling like orphans in this endless century of war.”

Good stuff.

What are the five books that would be on your list?

Cheers!

Jim

1.

2.

3.

4.

5.

There you have it.

Cheers!

Jim

God. Hi Jim.  I’ve noticed that you’ve been calling on me a lot lately, so I thought it’d be nice to meet face to face and see what’s on your mind.

Jim. Holy shit!  Whoops.  I mean, damn.  It’s really you.

God. Yes, it’s me.  I don’t want to be rude, but there are 7 billion of you on this earth and I don’t have a lot of time.  Let’s do this.  Why don’t you ask me 3 questions.  I’ll answer them for you, and be on my way.  How’s that sound?

Jim. Jesus!  Whoops.  Did it again.  Sorry.

God. Forgiven.  (laughs.)

Jim. Okay, okay.  Umm.  Three questions, huh?  Not three wishes like a genie, but three questions.  Okay.  God.  Right next to me.  God.  Here to talk to me.  Okay.  How’s it going God?

God. Fine. Two left.

Jim. Shit.  Fucked that up didn’t I?

God. Yes.  One to go.  Maybe you should think a little before you speak.

Jim. Damn.  Did it again!  Son of a Bitch.  I’m totally blowing my one chance to actually talk with you aren’t I?

God. Yes.  We’re through, and you might think about cleaning up your language a little in front of me.

Jim. Dammit.  I didn’t get anything out of this.

God. Just fuckin’ with you Jim.  Start over and think it through this time.

Jim. Wow.  Thanks God.  Okay, here’s my first one.  Is everything gonna be okay?  I mean, the world seems like it’s on the brink of disaster, and I know more people are hurting right now than I can ever remember.  Good people losing their jobs, losing their houses…just caught up in a shit-stream mess that they can’t seem to crawl out of.  Seems like we used to be able to bounce back a lot easier.  Nowadays, everything seems fucked up.  Are we gonna make it out of this?

God. Everything will be okay.  Things have a way of working themselves out.  This will pass, but people will change as a result.  I’m forcing people to look at themselves  harder than they ever have before.  I’m seeing a vast renewal in faith.  Man drifted.  Got greedy.  Civilization needs a correction and it’s going to hurt a little, but it’ll all work out.  It’s just going to be different than it was over the past few years.  Simpler.  More honest.  Man won’t take so much for granted.

Jim. That’s a relief.  Okay, here’s my next one.  I look at my life and I know I’ve made some mistakes, and I’ve broken way more than one commandment.

God. That’s an understatement.

Jim. Yes, I know, but I have asked for forgiveness and I’m not the Hellion that I used to be.

God. Like I said before.  Forgiven.  (doesn’t laugh this time.)

Jim. Thanks.  I guess my point is that I don’t feel like I’ve accomplished what I was supposed to.  I’ve retired more than one dream that I really thought would come true, and frankly, retiring my dreams makes my life seem like there’s no purpose other than to scratch out a living.    I kind of want to dust them off and renew them.  These are dreams about my career, my family…things I want to accomplish, but I just can’t seem to get any traction.

God. What’s your question?

Jim. Is it too late?  I’m not twenty anymore.

God. Of course not, but you have to put some effort into it.  I hear your prayers, and I show you the path you want to be on, but frankly Jim, sometimes you just don’t pay attention.  You get distracted and caught up in the things that get in the way of your dreams.  Quit looking to the sides of your path.  Look straight ahead.

Jim. What’s the most annoying prayer, or question that you get asked?

God. The lottery.

Jim. That was three wasn’t it?

God. That makes four.  Let me ask you a question.

Jim. Shoot.

God. Do you feel better now that we’ve talked?

Jim. Hell yes.  Can I buy you a beer?

God. Just one.

Jim. What’ll you have?

God. Make mine a Lagunitas IPA.

Jim. Cheers!

We had a beer together and shot the shit about the whole Heaven and Hell thing, good vs. evil and Satan.  He did some amazing card tricks.  I felt a whole lot better after our talk.

He asked me what dream was unrealized that I wanted most.  I told him I always wanted to be a writer for a living.  After all, I’ve written two screenplays, a novel, a children’s book and countless songs.  Nothing to show for it.  He told me a writer writes.  So I am.

Here’s my parting thought for you… it’s a toughie.

If you met God, and he said you could ask him just one question, what would that question be?

Cheers!

Jim

The smokingly hot, Mrs. Abeerforbreakfast, had never eaten there before.  Nuff said.

Southern Mecca

It was a Saturday afternoon and the Thomas the Train matinee at the Fox Theatre had just released a couple of thousand ankle biters and their khaki-shorted, Izod golf shirted parental units.  What luck!  We were all going to pack ourselves into the Varsity at exactly the same time.

I shit you not…there were thousands of people crammed inside, all in the name of hot dogs and Coca Cola.

People. People who love people. Are the .....

Controlled chaos. I was actually nervous.  My wife started to stress out, not knowing exactly what she wanted to order.  The line moves fast and the pressure is on to perform at the counter.  This is the one place you do not want to look like a Varsity amateur.

You've got about 10 seconds to get it right

What to drink?  Whaaa?? No beer? Sucks.  The Mrs. Abeerforbreakfast was ready to order a coke until she found out they don’t put rum in it. The crowd was crushing up against us.  The place smelled more like sweat than food…little-kid pony sweat smell.

The Varsity Hall Monitor/Floor Traffic Controller was unleashed.  She was about 4 ft. 10 inches of pure lungs. “Move to the end.  Move to the end.  Move to the end.  Move to the end.”    Loudly.  With authority.  We were in her place. No mistake about it.

Just like real cattle!

Finally made it to the front of the line.  There was a trampled teenager passed out on the floor.  Had foot prints all over him.   My wife poked him with her shoe. “He’s still alive,” she said.  “Let’s order.”

Yummy?? Really???

“What’ll ya have?”

Panic.   We didn’t have any rhythm.  We were like deer caught in headlights. No sound came out of our mouths.   My heart was beating fast.  The people behind us were talking about us.  “Yankee tourists.” I heard them say.

The pressure's on. "What'll you have?"

“I’ll have what he’s having.” Yep.  I said it.

“Are you actually enjoying this?” queried the Mrs. Abeerforbreakfast.

“Hell yes!”  I lied through my teeth.

“This is stupid and there aren’t any tables.” she said.

We got our food and wandered around with our red trays from room to room to room to room to room to room to room to room until our food was cold.  The patrons that had seats stared at us and wore paper hats. I finally  spied a two-top by the door.

Two elderly women walked in front of us.  No they weren’t.  Not today.    I outran the two women and quite literally slid my tray around one woman’s back and tossed it on the table in front of them.  “Excuse me,” I said politely.  It was time to eat.

Varsity vittles!

We ate our remarkably average hot dogs and a stack of rings that were glued together.  We watched people move about like ants…pitch and weave…try to find a seat.    We laughed.  We ate.  We enjoyed an Atlanta institution.  Mrs. Abeerforbreakfast is a Varsity Virgin no longer.

Will we go back? Of course.  It was oddly enjoyable…undoubtably memorable and highly entertaining.   This was  4-D food theater.  Every sense was assaulted.  I’d equate the experience to getting a tattoo on a roller coaster.

Just as I remembered

We left and headed to Manuel’s Tavern for a beer and a coke with rum in it.

Cheers!

Jim