Iz and Pal (Bedouin Buddies)


Iz and Pal

Jonathots Daily Blog

(3952)

Sitting Six

It took Iz and Pal a good solid two minutes to figure out where they were when they woke up in the desert, and another good five minutes to negotiate what direction to roll, to untangle themselves from their cocoon.

It was already hot.

Sweat was beading all over their bodies, and after two days absence from bathing, odor was aplenty. After all, when stink is near, grumpy will appear.

“You roll this way and I’ll stay still.” Iz was already sporting some attitude.

Pal objected. “I don’t know what you mean by ‘this way,’ because you have no hands to show me. They’re stuck in the tent.”

Iz heaved a deep sigh. “Look at the direction my head is nodding.”

“Would that be roll towards your nod, or opposite your nod?” replied Pal with a bit of whine.

Iz was done giving direction. He began a series of frantic twists, turns, shimmies and shakes, until the tent ripped, and he slithered his way to the safety of freedom.

Pal was angry. “Now look what you’ve done. You ripped it. What good is a ripped tent?”

“What good are two guys trapped in a tent?” Iz said, standing to his feet.

Pal wiggled two or three times and stood up as well. “You stink,” he stated.

Iz rolled his eyes. “That’s good,” he said. “It was difficult to believe you were producing all the odor.”

They jumped at each other and commenced to wrestling, at first with a bit of anger, and then, as the heat took over, with more pure silliness. They finally fell to the side in choked laughter. Pal was gasping for air.

“Oh, yes, this is really smart,” he said. “When you stink, don’t have any water, it’s always good to wrestle, get sweaty and thirsty.”

“I have a little water left,” said Iz coyly.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” shouted Pal. “Where is it?”

“I wasn’t holding out,” said Iz defensively. “I just didn’t know how to divide it. I don’t know when we’ll get water again.”

A quiet fell over the boys. How could they continue their adventure without food and water? Yet how could they ever go home without looking weak and stupid?

Iz considered. “Maybe your parents will bring some water.”

Pal shook his head. “It’s just my father. And as I told you, my father will never come here.”

“I really don’t want to die,” said Iz with a whimper.

Pal patted him on the shoulder. “Let’s just make a plan for the water.”

What followed was a rather in-depth discussion on the difference between a sip and a gulp. After finally overcoming the semantics, Iz and Pal determined that they had fourteen sips and eight gulps left—perhaps enough for the day, if they stopped wrestling and were not trapped in any more tents.

They tossed the ball back and forth and just talked as the hours passed. They saw no one. Perhaps no one saw them—unless lizards counted.

The day wore on and hunger pangs set in, with aggravation not far behind. Still, they focused on talking, living, loving and matters that concerned them as young boys.

But after a particularly long moment of silence, Iz presented a new topic. “Mine’s different,” he stated slowly.

“Your what?” asked Pal.

“It’s because I’m Jewish,” explained Iz.

“I know you’re Jewish,” said Pal. “But your what?”

“Think about it,” said Iz, lifting his eyebrows.

So Pal did. It took a moment or two, but he finally came up with the answer. “You mean circumcision,” he said proudly.

“So you know about that?” Iz was a bit surprised.

“Yes,” said Pal. “I guess that’s one of those many things that our religions fight about.”

Iz frowned. “Why do they make such a big deal about that?”

“Why do you think God wants you to do it?” Pal challenged.

“Why do you think God doesn’t want you to?” countered Iz.

“Geez,” said Pal. “I feel stupid even talking about this. Grown-ups make such a big deal about us not touching it or talking about it, or even naming it, and then they end up making it one of the big parts of religion. Which is it, Iz? Is it dirty, or is it holy?”

“I know what you mean,” said Iz. “I remember, in my house, I didn’t know what to call it. You know…what we’re talking about. Like, when I was talking to my Pada, how should I refer to that thing? So I decided to come up with a name, and he got really, really mad at me because I said the name out loud.”

“What was the name?” Pal asked with vigor.

“Oh, it was stupid,” Iz replied shyly.

“Even better,” said Pal. “What was the name?”

“I once found a pet snake,” said Iz. “And before Pada made me get rid of it, I named the snake Ulios.”

Pal frowned. “Ulios? What does that mean?”

“Nothing,” said Iz.

“Exactly,” agreed Pal.

Iz continued. “So once, in front of Pada, I made mention to him of my ‘Ulios’…”

Pal paused, letting the idea sink into his brain, and then burst into laughter. “My father was so nervous,” he said, “I mean, about discussing it with me, that we finally decided to refer to it as my ‘man-dilly.’”

Iz laughed uncontrollably. Gaining some breath, he cited, “It’s all so stupid. They tell us that what we feel and believe is the most important thing, and then they make such a fuss about… Well, you know. Ulios and man-dilly.”

Pal became serious. “Maybe that’s why things are messed up. If grown men are so nervous about such a simple thing, how do they ever expect to understand more important things?”

Iz took a quick sip of water. “I don’t care what you call it. I don’t care what it looks like. I don’t care if it’s circumcised. I would trade it all in right now for a big, cold frosty bottle of Coca-Cola.”

The boys nodded in holy agreement. Then they sat in silence, a bit uncomfortable over their discussion, but also wiser from what they learned.

The heat pressed down as the time passed. There was a great temptation to change sips into gulps, but amazing restraint was maintained. They breathed deeply, looking at the surrounding desert.

Never would they ever have such experiences again.

Never would friendship be so precious.

Never would it ever be so hot.


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G-Poppers … July 28th, 2017

 Jonathots Daily Blog

(3381)

Jon close up

G-Pop was pretty sure what he wanted to share with his children this morning. As he climbed in his van to begin a ten-day tour to Tampa, which would include five presentations, G-Pop had pretty well sketched out what he saw as an aching need in our present human interactions: a return to concern. He was pretty pleased with what he was going to pen.

But he got about twelve miles down the road and his front passenger tire blew out. There was no personal injury or damage to the van other than one exploded tire.

Now, G-Pop and his traveling companion don’t carry a jack or spare with them, simply because neither one of them is capable of taking care of such a feat. So it was a hot, Southern-Florida morning, and he was stuck by the side of the road, waiting for a tow-truck and a willing technician to help out.

Things never work that way. Once your plans are edited by Mother Nature’s intervention, things never get easier–they just get different.

The blow-out happened at 9:00 A.M. and G-Pop was not on his way again until 1:10 P.M.

A lot of waiting.

A lot of heat.

A lot of chances to be discouraged, frustrated or to do that dastardly human thing of trying to find someone to blame.

Then it struck G-Pop. The article he had planned to write, though well-intentioned, was a discussion of human generosity in the abstract. In other words, “we could” or “we should.”

But it is one of those subjects that is easy to “Amen” but not so easy to amend. So instead, G-Pop is going to talk about concern, compassion and tenderness in the practical rather than the abstract.

Would you believe that four people stopped to see if they could help?

Would you believe a young man who has his own towing company had his car overheat on the way, but still made it there to change the tire?

Would you believe that G-Pop’s daughter-in-law brought out some drinks and a sandwich, asking if there was any other way she could help?

Would youi believe that G-Pop’s wife scurried around town, suddenly becoming a tire purchaser, for the good of the cause?

When it was all over, G-Pop realized there were so many people he got to meet that he never would have met had he not been stalled.

Maybe the whole problem in life is that we think we’re going to teach each other to be better humans. Actually, life just comes along and messes with us, giving us the chance to practice making gentler decisions from a position of deeper concern.

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PoHymn: A Rustling in the Stagnant… June 17th, 2015

 Jonathots Daily Blog

(2615)

PoHymn June 17

I’ve Done That

A man honking his horn,

Angry with the hour of rush

I know him

I understand, my brother

I’ve done that

A woman complaining of heat

Who six months earlier spoke a chillier regret

I am with my sister

She is me

I’ve done that

A little boy trapped in a web of lies

Trying to fly away from the spider

I see you, little friend

I, too, have been tangled

I’ve done that

A plump fellow with goals to reduce

Explaining the complexities of his burdened diet

Your words are mine

Your results I own

I’ve done that

Compassion is simple if you open your heart

For the task is frightening when first you start

So smile with tenderness as you breathe a prayer

Remembering your weakness as you show you care. 

 

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***************************

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WITHIN

A meeting place for folks who know they’re human

 $3.99 plus $2.00 S&H

 

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Quatrain of Popcorn… November 26, 2013

Jonathots Daily Blog

(2079)

Orville Redenbacher

Oil me up

Burner the heat

Shake it, baby

Butter than ever

The producers of jonathots would humbly request a yearly subscription donation of $10 for this wonderful, inspirational opportunity

Click for details on the SpirTed 2014 presentation

Click for details on the SpirTed 2014 presentation

Please contact Jonathan’s agent, Jackie Barnett, at (615) 481-1474, for information about scheduling SpiriTed in 2014.

click to hear music from Spirited 2014

click to hear music from Spirited 2014

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