With Polytheism You Get More Paid Holidays

*** continued from previous post ***


As much as I would have liked, I could delay the inevitable no longer. With a sigh and a smile, I broached the subject that I had been dreading. Please, if there is a God, let this go smoothly. Let her be cheered by the miracle of life, and decide to give me a pass on this one. I braced myself, took a deep breath and said, "So honey," I put an arm around her waist drawing her into a hug, "shall we go have breakfast?"

Have you ever had a cat nestled in your arms, relaxed and purring, when startled by some noise transform in the blink of an eye from an animal with no bones into a piece of steel? Steel with claws and fangs and a penchant for assigning blame? It's a joy, really. You should try it sometime.

Protip: Wear gloves, a heavy coat, and a goalie mask. A baseball bat is not out of the question.

"You mean the wonderful group breakfast with 30 people I don't know that by now consider us idiots at best and insane at worst?"

Damn. God has failed me again. I swear, as soon as I'm back in THE STATES I'm gonna go all Pagan. That'll learn ya God. Learn ya good. Or maybe polytheistic. I think you get more paid holidays with polytheism.

"Well, if you put a spin like that on the situation, anything can sound bad."
"Really," she said raising an eyebrow, "let's see. . . .how could you spin this? Mr. Moore, the limo is here to take you to your awards ceremony.”

Crap. She was in test mode. No worries, I'm fast on my feet when the need arises. I cleared my throat and in a crisp voice said, "Yeah, your awards ceremony. . . IN HELL!"
Ha. I've beat her at her own game. Two points!

She started to say something, then shook her head in defeat and said, "Go brush your teeth and shave. Let's get this over with. But I swear by all that is holy, if this goes the way I think it will, I’m going to stab you with a fork under the table."

"In the knee?"

“You wish," she said.

"Fair enough good lady. But don't jump to any conclusions. This may be an exciting new experience! Let's go with an open mind, shall we?"

Mom looked me in the eye for what seemed like an hour, but was probably only a few seconds at most. With a dead-pan voice and a slight shrug she said, "Sure."

Ah, my little dove. Her exuberance overwhelmed me.

*** the journey continues ***

The Story Takes A Funny Turn

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We traveled about a half mile up the road and I am not ashamed to tell you that I was a smidgen paranoid. I'm scanning for bears. I'm looking in my mirror. The Pucker Factor came on full. Once again, don't play me like you don't know that a tightening sphincter is rated on a sliding scale. Dear God, you're in Naval Officer Candidate School. I would think your eyes would pop open every morning at about a 5. ‘The Factor’ is usually graded on a scale of 1 to 10, with 1 being a pleasant cup of tea with Aunt Marge, and a 10 narrowly missing being incinerated by a falling comet, was pushing upwards and establishing new territory around 15 or so.

It's difficult to balance looking back and keeping my mind on the road ahead. I think for a moment of asking your mother to monitor the situation behind us. ‘Say sweetie, if you feel hot breath, a soft grunting, and spittle on the back of your neck, would you be a dear and tell me?’ I decided against it. Your mom, champ that she is, was near the breaking point. So, I pushed the throttle when I could and hoped for the best.

Fortunately, the road began to level and smooth. It had also become a bit wider, and the wash-boards were less severe. I could actually pick a hard-packed line and get the bike up to a good cruising speed of 25 mph or so. I dared to think, just briefly, that we may get out of this yet. I began to offer supplication, deals, and bargains to whatever higher power may be glancing our way.

Here. Write this down. The problem with most higher powers is that, (now brace yourself for this is the truth), most are ass-hats. Complete knee-biters. Snickering into eternity, comparing stories. Picking out a pair of middle-aged mortals trying to enjoy themselves on a motorcycle, poking each other in the ribs and saying, "Here, hold my beer. Watch this!"

Remember that for the rest of your life. It will serve you well when you get too cocky.

This is where the story takes a funny turn. As we climbed a small hill, and curved round a small bend, I looked ahead to a straight stretch to see --- a moose. Yep, a frickin' moose.

And this was no friendly looking Bullwinkely animal. This moose, which was standing full in the road, looked about 38 feet tall. Seriously. I've never seen taller legs on an animal in my life. It looked like one of the pictures that a child would draw where they get the legs all out of proportion. ("Ah, that is a marvelous drawing sweetie. Nice giraffe. Wha . . .? Not a giraffe? A dog? Well . . . a fine dog it is sweetie. A fine, skinny and extremely tall dog with a loooooong neck.") As with the bear this moose was huge. What the hell, I thought, are there ANY small animals in Canada? Is Alberta the Costco of fauna? Couldn't I encounter an animal with a glandular disorder, so that, you know. . . I could feel superior for even a second?

The moose was completely blocking the road. Crosswise. Just standing there doing moosey things. Possibly calculating next year’s taxes. I have no idea. I am not learned in the ways of moose. I know they like squirrels, have their own University, (Whatsamata U), and can, when plied with applause do simple magic tricks with hats but that's as far as my knowledge extends.

Oh! One more thing. Sometimes if you say the right word ping-pong balls will drop from the ceiling.


*** the journey continues ***