Stories I can tell

God loves me</b<. And He has some kind of special plan for me. A bold statement for sure and the kind that generally makes people mad. I don’t really care. What is His plan for me? I don’t have a frigging clue and chances are I won’t know until I’m dead and He tells me in person. At which point I’ll probably laugh (in that ethereal I’m dead but still have a sense of humor kind of way), and say the equivalent of; ‘Dude! Why didn’t you tell me?’ Of course God doesn’t work that way. It seems that pesky ‘Free Will’ thing He gave us is what prevents us from knowing whatever the overall plan is. The problem is that Free Will and a divine plan cannot exist in the same universe. For those Douglas Adams fans out there, you know that in one of the ‘Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy’ books it is said that knowing both the appropriate question and answer to Life, the Universe, and Everything is impossible. If by some chance both were known, the universe as we know it would disappear and be replaced by something equally unexplainable.

But this is not what I’m here today to talk about’¦

The major problem with organized religion is that typically it doesn’t make any sense. We are asked to take on faith (which helps to explain the unexplainable), events that happened so long ago, that no real evidence of the event remains. By long ago I mean within the last 5000 years, which seems to be about the time limit imposed on situations that occur within the Old Testament. This book, which has many fine examples of how people should live their lives in their personal relationships not only with God, but with their fellow man as well, seems to jump around a bit on its description of God and his various personality quirks. At times, He’s a benevolent being capable of great love and compassion and at other times He’s described as a bit of a tyrant throwing temper tantrums and destroying not only cities (Sodom and Gomorrah), but the entire planet (The story of Noah). Don’t even get me started on who Adam and Eve’s kids (Funny that only boys are mentioned) had children with. I find it ironic that many people who object to homosexuality for religious reasons love to quote that it was Adam and Eve, NOT Adam and Steve. Well OK then, where are the women?

The other problem with organized religion is that it generally doesn’t take into account scientific knowledge discovered over the course of time. Long before it finally acknowledged that the earth is indeed round, everyone just knew that the earth was flat and that the universe revolved around the it. Well, a couple of Apollo, Gemini, Mercury, and Soyuz missions later, it could finally be laid to rest that the earth is actually just an insignificant planet revolving around a third rate sun in a most likely bad neighborhood in the Milky Way Galaxy. Of course this doesn’t help the philosophers and great thinkers of the past who were branded heretics and sometimes killed for proposing that maybe, JUST MAYBE, we weren’t really all that and a jamoica milkshake in the eyes of the universe.

I would also love an explanation of all the dinosaur fossils carbon dated 100s of millions of years ago. Many seem to take the tack that carbon dating is irrelevant and unprovable and that God (or the devil) put them there to test our faith. I can accept this at face value but find it difficult to fathom. What would be the point?

But this is not what I’m here today to talk about’¦

Alrighty then, next point of contention is Hell and the whole devil taking over the earth for 1000 years until Christ returns and the earth is made into a paradise for God’s faithful. Sorry, but I find it difficult to believe in Hell. It just doesn’t work. Not being a religious scholar (obviously), I could have something wrong here but the overall point is that the devil is being set up for failure. He can’t win no matter what he does so why would he bother? You can accuse the devil of many things, but I don’t think stupidity would be one of them. I mean wasn’t this guy one of the first angels that God created? He tempted Eve with the apple (Or some other kind of fruit. I’ve read that it could have been a fig. That sure makes me look at newton cookies in a whole new light.) of knowledge and got the whole kit and caboodle of humanity kicked out of paradise (Women get blamed for everything they do).

The biggest problem I guess for me is the criteria of admission. According to whatever faith you may believe in, just not worshipping God exactly like you do is enough for those eternal fires. Well, take your pick. Buddhist, Christian, Hindu, Jewish, Muslim, Pagan, and all the associated various sects therein. Which religion is the correct one in the eyes of God? Isn’t it even remotely possible that God (being omnipotent and all) could weed out really bad people regardless of their religious preference and deal with them appropriately? Are all people no matter what they do or how they live their life doomed to Hell because they don’t worship God like you? Where they live and the people that guided them early in life determine most people’s religious preference. Not to mention that there are millions who for various reasons have never even heard of God, but might otherwise be fine upstanding citizenry in whatever culture they were raised. Doomed to Hell for ignorance that was no fault of their own. Doesn’t seem like the way a benevolent God would act.

But this is not what I’m here today to talk about’¦

I’m an only child with three brothers and two sisters. This odd turn of events happened for two basic reasons. My Father had been married before he met my mother and had two kids (My sister Jan and my brother Bill). His first wife became ill and for reason of her health, they moved from Brooklyn, New York to South Florida. My mother on the other hand had also been married before and from her first husband she had my brother Norman, my brother Larry, and my sister Nancy. Her first husband also became ill and he died. I should note that neither my mother nor my father had ever met before their respective spouses became sick and passed on. Just thought I should clear that up.

My father had a refrigeration business that went belly up for reasons not worth going into, and to make ends meet, he was the night manager of the FairWinds Hotel in Fort Lauderdale, Florida.

Meanwhile, after the death of her first husband, my mother sight unseen purchased a home in the process of being built in the same area She almost emigrated to Australia as well, but decided not to since the chances of seeing the rest of her family afterwards would be remote at best. I never did get an adequate explanation from her as to why she even considered going to Australia. She was given a date of completion and packed up three kids (13, 4, and 2) and a dog and started her trek from Indianapolis, Indiana to Oakland Park, Florida. Bare in mind that this was the mid to late 1950s and there really was no Interstate Highway system in place as of yet.

Once she arrived, she discovered that the completion date she had been given for her three bedroom, two bath ranch had no basis in reality and that an additional three weeks or so were needed to finish the home. She had a lot of trouble finding a hotel that would accept her, three kids and a dog (remember that this was before Fort Lauderdale became the family-friendly, politically corrupt, over-developed paradise that it is today he said with gritted teeth) until she went to the hotel that my soon-to-be father was the night manager of.

They began to date, got married, and had me as their last natural (?) child.

But this is not what I’m here today to talk about’¦

My Father was a wonderful man. One of the kindest, gentlest souls it has been my privilege to know in the wacky course that has been my life. There is no doubt that I am my Father’s son. I look like him, and many of his good points (and bad) are mine as well. Which is what sometimes scares the heck out of me.

As I said earlier, my Father was born and raised in Brooklyn, New York. He met his first wife got married and had two kids. He and his first wife used to go to a particular park to walk in. Apparently, this was one of their favorite places. Once they knew that Edna (His first wife) was ill, they left New York and moved to South Florida. Yes, I know I already told you this.

When Edna died, my Father according to her wishes had her cremated and her ashes were given to him in a sealed urn. The original intent was that he would travel back to Brooklyn and spread her ashes at the park that they once took their long walks together in. Well, between his grief and a failing business, he just never quite got around to it.

Flash forward about 15 years and my Mother’s car was in need of some repair (A 1968 Mercury Colony Park Station Wagon which is also the car I took my driver’s test in. Try parallel parking one of those beasts some time). So into the auto shoppe it went. Because my parents had two cars, my Mother drove my Father to work in his car and then kept it in order to do her daily errands.

After doing the grocery shopping, my Mother opened the trunk to put the bags in and found a sealed box. Being curious (OH PANDORA NO!), she opened it and as you have probably been able to guess by now, found the urn that contained the ashes of my Father’s first wife. My Mother was horrified by this discovery and confronted my Father with it who sheepishly replied that he hadn’t known what else to do with it and had sort of forgotten that it was still there.

Edna’s remains were then moved from the trunk of my Father’s car and into an upper closet in their bedroom where she remained (no pun intended) for another 15 years. My parents moved twice in the 1980s to smaller living spaces after I left home. Once to a manufactured home (I used to call it a mobile home just to get a rise out of my Father) in a community called Barefoot Bay near Melbourne, Florida and finally to their last home together in North Fort Myers, Florida. Edna tagged along for the ride each time.

My Father became ill in the early 1990s and my Mother was not able to provide the kind of care that he required, so he ended up moving to Northern Virginia and staying with my sister Jan. Jan and my Father actually took a trip to Brooklyn to find the park that Edna had wished to have her ashes spread at, but some 50 years had passed since those days, and my Father could no longer remember exactly where the park was or what its name is. The urn was then passed to my sister Jan.

My Father died in 1994 and was buried with military honors at Arlington Cemetery. He had been a Merchant Marine during WW II and had served on ships making the dangerous North Atlantic run to England. He also was cremated and interned. The tomb has been opened once to put in the ashes of my Mother who died in 2001. Jan has gone to each of the kids on both sides to request that Edna also be placed within. As I understand it, there is some problem with having two wives in the same tomb. As far as I know, my sister Jan still has the urn and at some point, we will all get together and finally lay this woman’s ashes in my Father’s tomb.

I think it might be apropos at that time to sing the old Grateful Dead refrain from the song ‘Truckin’, ‘What a long, strange trip it’s been.’

But this is not what I’m here today to talk about’¦

When I was 15, my parents left for a week long trip to visit some relatives. These were not people I had ever met, so they gave me choice of going with them or staying home (This was not the brightest decision they had ever made). I chose to stay home. My Mother stocked the fridge (I’ve been able to cook for myself since the age of 8 or so) and off they went.

It didn’t take long for my friends to find out that I was home alone (Most likely I bragged about it) and soon I had a collection of various weird friends coming and going at odd hours. The first few days nothing major happened but finally one of my friends named Brian had stopped by to tell me about his trip to South Carolina to visit his dad (His parents were divorced). While he was giving me the details, another friend of mine showed up (His name was John Smith. Yeah I know that sounds like a fake name for a strange story, but that was really his name). He came in the house claiming to be all ‘messed up’ on one drug or another, but he was bizarre no matter what condition he was in at any time.

Brian and I were giving him such a hard time about acting so stupid, that he got mad and ran out the back door, around to the side of the house and fell down in the grass between our house and the neighbor’s. Brian then informed me that he had bought some firecrackers (illegal in Florida) while in South Carolina. His idea was to light a few and toss them in John’s general direction. Being 15, blonde, and in Florida, that seemed like a marvelous plan. So that’s what we did. We tossed like three or four and after exploding waited for John’s reaction. Which was nothing. He didn’t move.

Brian and I went back inside to figure out what to do next. Little did we know that after we went back inside the house, John started moaning and saying that he had been shot. Normally this would not be a big deal outside of his own little delusional universe, but the firecrackers had gotten the neighbor’s attention. When they heard what John was saying, they immediately called the police and reported gunshots.

Less than five minutes later, I walked out the back door to check on John. No sooner had I gotten to the corner of the back and side of the house, he came running past me like his feet were on fire. As it turned out, he ran into the house and locked himself into the bathroom. Meanwhile, Brian was at the kitchen window looking out and saw three Oakland Park Police cruisers at the neighbor’s house. He called out for me to come quick and see what was happening. So I started running up the side of the house toward the front.

The three Oakland Park Police Officers did not know I was there. I was equally not aware of the three Oakland Park Police Officers. As I was running toward the front, they were walking with their guns drawn toward the side. I suddenly ‘popped’ out of nowhere and all three raised their guns in my direction. I saw the guns and immediately raised my hands as high as I possibly could and perhaps just a little higher. This was the one intelligent act of the evening that I can claim as my own.

They grabbed me, slammed me against my Mom’s station wagon (now repaired and as far as I know Edna-free), and did a quick search. They then turned me to face them and started asking me loudly where the gun was. I was so freaked out by the events of the past 15 seconds or so that I don’t think I could have answered coherently even if my life depended on it. Which at that point for all I knew it did.

They took me back inside my house and somehow talked John out of the bathroom. He was acting so strange that as a matter of course put him in one of the cruisers. Getting back to Brian and I, they again asked where the gun was. Brian blurted out that it hadn’t been a gun, just firecrackers.

It got very quiet in the kitchen at that point. One of the Officers informed Brian that fireworks were illegal in Florida and asked him if he had any more. For some reason only known by Brian, he admitted that he indeed had more firecrackers. When they asked him how many, he said he had 1200 more back at his house.

1200!!! He had bought a BRICK of firecrackers!

Off into another cruiser went Brian (All they did was confiscate them). Then I got a lecture that maybe I should choose my friends a little more wisely in the future. I was mostly just very happy that I was not going to join my friends in the Police cruisers. Afterwards, I had to go next door and explain to my neighbors that everything was okie-dokie and that there was no need to inform my parents on their return about the events of the evening. This did not go over as well as it might have and my neighbors never again saw me as that cute little kid that used to sell fruit from our trees around the neighborhood.

But this is not what I’m here today to talk about’¦</>

For those of you keeping score, the answer is “42”. What the question is can be up to you.