Sit Down Comedy … June 26th, 2020

Jonathots Daily Blog

(4445)

Sit Down Comedy

It’s a statement I ferociously despise, even though I have kept quiet about it for many years, and in weaker moments have had its drivel tumble off my lips in an attempt to be relevant to my surroundings.

“There but for the grace of God go I.”

If there were a contest for the most arrogant proclamation, this one would certainly be in the running.

What ever gave us the idea that we could express humility, or even gratitude, by simultaneously acting as if we are preferred?

If God is no respecter of persons, then misfortune and blessing are not manifested in His mood swings.

The truth of the matter is, we don’t know what causes the pendulum to swing in our favor or the clock to turn its face from us.

This came to my mind when I was staring at a gentleman in line at the grocery store.

He looked like me.

He wasn’t my twin, but certainly gave me pause to consider myself and my position.

He was about six feet tall with a bald head, and obese—all like me.

His facial hair was much more overgrown than mine, and his clothes suffered from Goodwill.

He also had a slump to his shoulders, welcoming a hump in his upper back.

There were enough differences that I was not startled but there was enough about the man that resembled me that it caused me to consider the nature of things.

Even though I was only twenty feet away, he did not notice me at all. He was staring off in the distance with a slightly perturbed twitch in his brow. He was holding a six-pack of beer, some hot dogs and matching buns.

Before I knew it, he had put his items through the cashier and was heading out the door. I strangely felt compelled to say something to him, but timidity discouraged me. Or maybe it attempted to save me.

I don’t know.

But I clumsily remarked, “I like hot dogs, too.”

He turned to me and replied, “Do I know you?”

He didn’t. And I didn’t know him.

I was doing one of those things that we sometimes do, which seems like it should be done, but should have been left undone.

“No,” I sheepishly replied.

Perhaps fearing that he had come across terse, he added, “I cook the hotdogs in beer. It makes them seem like brats.”

I nodded my head, uncertain of what to reply. Fortunately, years of small talk helped me cough up an answer. “Nice tip.”

He turned, walked out the door and was gone.

I wondered where he was going.

Was he going to someone?

Was he fortunate, like me, and had found a lover who was tolerant to occasional fits of ineptness?

Did he have a collage of children who were grateful and revered him for his efforts?

Did he have a gnawing talent which refused to allow him to slip into the doldrums of mediocrity?

Was he giddy—just downright silly?

Was he stubborn enough to be cute but flexible enough to be giving?

Was he alone?

On my particular journey—not knowing which path to take, nor whether one was even less taken—I stumbled my way along and was salvaged by the love of many friends and strangers.

I did my best to return the favor.

Life is not about the grace of God being extended to one human traveler over another.

It really boils down to one thing:

As you press on and choices come your way, always select the one that excites you.

Even if it also scares the shit out of you.

 

 

PoHymn: A Rustling in the Stagnant… April 8, 2015

 Jonathots Daily Blog

(2555)

PoHymn April 7th

I Am Not Sure

I am not sure

Of what is truly pure

I can not attest

To all that is best

I have come to note

Not stand afar and gloat

For there is much to learn

And little time to burn

So what do I need?

Is it seed or weed?

Shall I speak

Or silently seek?

Flash a winning smile

Or refrain from all guile?

I have questions, you see

The answers evade me

For following a star

Doesn’t get me too far

And staring at the sky

Answers where, but not why

Foolishness is the schemer

Patience the redeemer

But why should I wait

For an illusive fate

Yes, now is the season

And presence the reason

Live like a man

Grab what I can

Cast to the earth

Mothered by my girth

But is there divine

In this soul of mine?

Am I a son of Eden

Or a bastard, getting even?

The answers are deep

And much too cheap

To have lasting worth

Or afford a second birth

Yet I will apply

Until at last I die

A ferocious yearning

To everything a turning

And rejoice beyond measure

When I find a hidden treasure.

 

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