Weight of God (and a 1/2 peck of apples)

 "When fate hands you a lemon, squeeze some into your hot toddy."

-Author unknown (but probably drunk)

 

Is there anything better upon a chilly fall evening than a steaming hot toddy? Two or three fingers worth of whiskey, a little honey, some lemon juice, and hot water from the whistling kettle. That and a couple of logs on the fire and you're all set.

Anyway, on with this blog...

 

Why, why, why is it that whenever I'm standing in line at the grocery store checkout the older gentlemen standing directly behind me feels the need to talk politics? It's not like I walk around with a sign taped to my back saying: "Hey, wanna talk politics? Oh, and by the way, kick me!"

Or perhaps I do have a sign taped to my back!

All I was trying to do was get through the "Twelve Items or Less" line - which, incidentally, has finally been corrected by irate English professors to read: "Twelve Items or Fewer" - with ½ a peck of Macintosh apples and a York Peppermint Pattie. Next thing I know I'm being accosted by someone who clearly does not think much of Republicans -- going all the way back to the Warren G. Harding administration.

At first, I tried to ignore him. That didn't work. So next, I tried to ignore him. That didn't work either. Finally, as a last resort, I tried to ignore him. Nothing seemed to work.

I'm pretty independent when it comes to politics. Both sides have their pluses and minuses, their positives and negatives, their yin and yang. I tend to navigate somewhere in the middle. I'm neither a Republican nor a Democrat. Yet, I can be rather conservative on some issues while being rather liberal on other issues? (I guess in today's polarized world you would call that being wishy-washy!)

So there I was with my ½ peck of Macintosh apples and my York Peppermint Pattie, just trying to make a purchase, just trying to throw a few bucks into the financial machine in order to keep our economy going, just trying to ignore this guy breathing on the back of my neck, when I thought of God. Strange to be thinking of the Almighty while standing in a grocery store checkout, especially since I'm still undecided on my belief in an all-seeing, all-knowing, all-powerful 24/7 Deity. I do believe that a Creator was involved when the universe was started back some 13 to 15 billion years ago, but to think that He's still around today ... and drawing a pension over all these years!

Actually, for a couple of years now I've been working on a mathematical formula to prove  the existence of God. The problem is, the formula is huge, with nearly an infinite number of variables. And I'm doing it all longhand on a pad of yellow lined paper since I don't own a supercomputer!

The key variable in the equation concerns whether or not God has mass, and if so, how much He weighs. For the purposes of my calculations, I'm assuming God stands about six foot two inches tall and weighs 220 pounds, give or take. Oops, I've got to remember to factor in the weight of His throne!

Anyway, as I stood there in the checkout line I thought, why did God throw us all together into this can of mixed nuts down here on the Planet Earth. What was His reasoning? Why here? Why now? Why me? And why this guy pontificating behind me? Why? Why? Why?

Life for us human beings - Homo sapiens to the anthropologist - is truly fleeting on this hunk of celestial rock. Years fly by at an alarming clip. I'm 46 years old. In no time I'll be 50. Then 55 ... 60 ... 65 ... by then, at 2.75% interest, my retirement account will be up to ... well, not nearly enough to retire on. Good God, is that all we are? A retirement portfolio? Is that it? Is that all life amounts to? That, and a senior discount at McDonalds?

Perhaps I should have myself cryogenically preserved until, years and years into the future, they finally discover the elusive fountain of youth. They can thaw me out, give me a shot of the youthful elixir, and then I'll have the rest of eternity to earn 2.75% per annum on my retirement funds. At that rate, perhaps by the year 3000 AD I can finally retire.

On second thought, maybe I best start believing mightily in God, just in case something goes wrong during the thawing process.

Jack Sheedy

The brain is just the weight of God

For, lift them, pound for pound

And they will differ, if they do

As syllable from sound

-Emily Dickinson

 

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