Recently feeling a compelling urge to come up with a solution to this unsubstantiated report that I am God that has been floating around, I drove out west of the city, to a large hill, and I sat there and meditated, took time to survey my kingdom, which mainly consists of the Interstate Highway and lot’s of trucks.
Once again, I took time to look deep inside and determine who it is that I am.
My hum-drum life slowly unfolded before my very eyes … I enjoy urban hang gliding. On Wednesdays, after school, I repair electrical appliances free of charge for elderly citizens. I lay ceramic tile. I can wash a dog or groom a kid for Sunday School, have done so on one or more occasions. Know how to trap a cat. Move furniture and lift heavy objects. I have never had a hole in one. I can shift a tri-plex, duplex, 4X4, 6X4, without grinding most of the time. I don’t cheat at cards, monopoly or trifle with other peoples women.
I got a Chiapet for Christmas and it has already went bald!
Life is good for me a starving abstract artist, a concrete analyst, and a ruthless NFL bookie. Critics worldwide swoon over my original line of corduroy evening-wear. I don’t perspire. I am a very private citizen, yet I receive copious amounts of email fan mail. I have been caller number nine and have won the weekend passes to the “free” concerts at the zoo. Last summer I toured all of New Jersey with a traveling centrifugal-force demonstration outfit.
I stand 5’10” and I weigh 200-none-of-your-business soaking wet. I bat .375 when I am on top of my game. Confession is good for the soul, so I have been told …. I have in my youth trifled with women — Guilty! I have hacked off the senior sound manager of my church with complete abandon and I didn’t even have to sing — Guilty! I don’t necessary think all Arabs are evil people — Guilty! I cannot under any circumstance imaginable find myself liking Rap Music — Guilty! When I was a little dinker and late at night I prayed, “I cross my heart and hope to die?” I confess, I didn’t really mean that second part … Guilty!
In my youth, I would climb electrical transmission towers just to listen to them buzz and crackle in the dark summer night. I love my state representative in government, ol’ what’s his name? My deft floral arrangements have earned me fame in international botany circles. Children trust me. Richard Simmons knew me when I weighted 350 lbs .. I can pump my own gas and check my own oil. I can re-ink my own cartridges without making a huge mess of my office. I can load the paper into the printer in under three minutes! (Yes I can!)
I know and understand the meaning of verbose. But often never adhere to the principle.
I can run a paper shredder, I know what Jennifer Lopez used to keep her dress on during the Grammy’s and I hit a $25 jackpot in Reno one time. I have every Lawrence Welk record ever made, including his salute to Woodstock. I buy cookies from the Girl Scouts and the Brownies. Give them to my neighbors because I am not allowed to have cookies from the Girl Scouts and the Brownies.
I have been known to hurl a tennis racket with uncanny accuracy at moving objects, I once read Paradise Lost, Moby Dick, David Copperfield and the Godfather in one day and still had time to refurbish an entire dinning room table that evening.
I can locate studs behind wallboard without a stud finder!
My wife instructed me and showed me every food group in the supermarket. I have performed several covert operations with the CIA in an attempt to locate WMD in the Cleveland area. I sleep once a week; and when I do sleep, I sleep in a hard backed chair. While on vacation in Canada, I successfully negotiated with a group of terrorists who had seized a small bakery.
The laws of physics do not apply to me. I have eleven toes on one foot, I can swim faster than Chuck Norris, and I believe anyone who collects John Tesche albums or Barry Manilow records are wimps. I don’t like sour cream on my baked potato’s and gravy on my sour dough biscuits.
I turn right on red lights all of the time, drive 8 miles over the posted speed limits, all of the time, I balance, I weave, I dodge, I frolic, and my bills on my credit cards are usually paid promptly by the 15th. On weekends, to let off steam I participate in full-contact origami. Most of the time I cannot locate my car keys.
Years ago I discovered the meaning of life but forgot to write it down.
I have made extraordinary four course meals using only a toaster oven. I can eat sushi without upchucking it afterwards. I breed prize winning clams in the creek behind my house. I have won bullfights in San Jan, cliff-diving competitions in Sri Lanka, and Spelling Bees at the Kremlin. I can operate a microwave oven and pop my own popcorn.
Often in the summer months, I will play Hamlet, I have performed open-heart surgery, and I have spoken with Elvis (before and after he died), I share my opinions freely and unsolicted, and spent the night at a Holiday Inn. I know the first name of the Ice Cream Truck driver and the UPS guy. I actually voted for Richard M. Nixon once.
I laugh, I learn, I sometimes cry.
I don’t want to be stinkin’ rich, but I would not mind smelling bad. I have no real claim to fame. Don’t feel the need to tell the world of my accomplishments. No need to post my name. The highest title or accomplishment I ever achieved in life was … The title of “Dad.”
And that was okay with me.
Fully understanding and well aware of the fact that I am not God, I just try and do my level best with all the talents and things that he has richly blessed me with. I am also pretty sure that Oprah would find me interesting and a real hoot. After all, “A man wrapped up in himself is a very small bundle” (Ben Franklin) So that means I would be a good fit for her couch or Dr. Phil on any given day of the week.
Check your local listings.
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