God came for me in the kitchen

MONDAY, DECEMBER 14, 2009

I was having a bad dream (I know, you may think that this is a metaphor for my whole life up until now, but hold that thought). Somehow, and for good reason that fails me to explain at the moment, I had stolen an 18 wheeler truck from my ex, and was driving it at a breakneck speed, around the twists and turns of a small seaside village in Northern California. I knew it was Northern California because on either side of the road were great cliffs with jagged rocks below...and, although I could not see it (to busy to look), I could smell the ocean air... The truck was going way too fast, and even though I was mashing relentlessly on the breaks, there seemed to be nowhere that was safe to stop it...I could see small cop cars at every turn rushing in the opposite direction (presumably looking for me), with their sirens wailing and lights ablaze...Why they did not see the out-of-control 18 wheeler, with me at the wheel, and catch me, is one of those dream constructs that made sense at the time, but simply doesn't in the light of day... I finally brought the Truck to a halt, through a herculean push on the break peddle in the only flat spot for miles around...just as I came to a lurching halt, dangerously close to edge of a precipice, I heard the cops chattering back and forth about me on the CB radio...Just then, the grating high pitched, whining voice of Satan's Sister came over the radio, and she was telling the police a series of lies about me designed to get me put on death row for life...(death row for life...that's funny!) I frantically tried to get the handle of the CB thingy to work, so I could tell my side of the story..."The Truth"...but, the talk button seemed to be missing...Just then, I woke up in a cold sweat...and bolted upright in the bed... With my hair standing straight up, and my Gator pajama bottoms painfully askew, I stumbled into the disaster area we call the kitchen, and by the light of the tiny stove bulb, tried muster the various supplies to make a pot of coffee...Squinting at the green digital clock on the stove, it was 6:29am (I had slept in!)...I had just gotten out a filter, and had an open coffee can in one hand, scooper, and wet rag (to clean the counter) in the other, when it happened.... A portal to another world opened where the dining room table was supposed to be, and a young handsome God walked through with outstretched hand, and said with a deep booming voice, "Gregory, be not afraid"....or something akin to that... In my addled, paranoid, half awake state, I thought that the END OF DAYS had finally come, and the God Almighty had finally come for me...(Would he come personally for me, or send someone else? Why was he so young? Does God age? Is he walking on his tip toes?) It pains me to tell you, that this macho warrior guy screamed like a little girl when his time came, and threw everything in my hands up into the air...The wet rag fell across my face, the scooper bonked me on the head...and coffee grounds went flying everywhere...(I still have at the time of this writing some coffee grounds behind my left ear) Quaking in fear, that only years of listening to hell-and-brimestone church sermons can produce, I peeked tentatively out from under the wet dishrag covering my face...to look upon God as it were... It turns out that Rusty was home from college, because he has mononucleosis, and has post nasal drip, (which acounts for the deep booming voice), and had walked around the corner into my little pool of light by the stove...(Which acounts for him appearing as if out of nowhere). He's 18 years old, and does look a bit like a young Adonis, and walks,....well...uhm...."Gracefully" (On his tippy toes)... What he actually said was, "Gregory, don't be afraid..." But, I suspect he does that shit on purpose, cause this is not the first time he has nearly given me a heart attack in the darkened house in the wee hours of the morning.... As I finally prepared my first steaming cup of coffee, adding Stevia (Fatso doesn't use sugar in his coffee anymore, as part of his new "No Carb" diet), and giradelli chocolate powder...mmmmmm....I pondered how, we see what we want to see, and how "The Truth" is in the eye of the beholder. And at that moment wondered if purhaps the "miracles" during ancient times that we read about in the Bible might have happened in just that way... Or, maybe I was just having a religious flashback on account of having unexpectedly made contact with a number of my estranged religious relatives on Facebook the night before...In any case, that's how my morning went...How was yours?