June 13, 2003

• Drunken Punch-up at a Wedding:  Hell Hath No Fury

   

  Mark of a new day dawning. 

   

  A: Watch the bodies fly!

   

  One tuxedo coat twirls ungraceful on a ceiling fan.  Below, a fat butt plunks squarely on the slimy feel of white wedding cake frosting.  Bodies sprawl in disheveled heaps at various spots on a dance floor, oblivious colored lights shooting spinning circles of blue, yellow, green, and orange.  Soaked in melting sherbet and red, one particularly burly man sits up in a shaky daze, hair dripping with the gel of spiked Kool-Aid.  Pigs-in-a-blanket pepper the room like confetti – from this day forth, dual-use h’ors d’oeuvres for every occasion!

   

  Outside, doors slam and tires squeal as families rush to MacDonald’s for happy meals in lieu of a spoiled lamb shank luncheon.  Inside, tables fly every which way and chairs catapult forward, muscled by the flexed fury of a woman scorned.  Near the kitchen door, a large podium rests on its side where inside, a buzzed fellow crouches frozen with guilt and fear.  With the click of every wrathful step, he hears the dainty sounds of proximal doom. 

   

  Punch the Mentos guy who walks through the reception and kisses the bride. 

   

  Drunken lunges leave a veiled aggressor dizzy as haymakers hit plain air with every ounce of go-for-broke hoo-ah!

   

  Or

   

  B:  Same ol’ isn’t so bad.

   

  They get married.  The lamb was delicious.  And we tapped our glasses and they kissed.  And we tapped our glasses and they kissed.  And we tap our glasses.  And we.  And.  Let’s watch our parents dance and let’s laugh.  We still believe in love.  Bull or bear, here’s to rational exuberance.

   

  The core:  You stare life in the eyes and find it’s full of a whole boatload of crap.  And it’s all for you.  The only godly response to it all?  Get.  The Hell.  Away.  And you keep yourself hoping.  Optimism is out of fashion and it takes a helluvalotta work.

   

  C:  The Alternative

   

  Pizza and beer with the guys.  It’s sincere, maybe.  But damn lazy!  Don’t say: We won!  You’re not playing on a team.  You’re sitting on a sofa cheering.  Some old fart, wearing a Raider’s jersey, wiping Cheetos on your pant leg.

   

  D:  Something Entirely Different

   

  Look at her laugh and laugh with her.  Look her in the eyes and wrap yourself fully in the moment.  Forgo the picket fence and two labradours.  Board a plane for somewhere far away and among the natives, shake your two fists at a world that says, hey, this is all it amounts to.  Rhythm tapped through bongos, they’ll dance around the cauldron as the two of you sit uncomfortably in a rising simmer.  Eaten up by savage life but defiant to the end.  Stars up above: two people in honest, simple love.

   

  E:  Some of the Above

   
  (Though not all at once.)

               Some choices are mutually exclusive.

  ————————-

  

  ——————————

  Well, as some of you know, I’ve been doing a whole lot of traveling lately: Las Vegas, Portland, San Francisco, and most recently, Houston.  Needless to say, Houston was humid as heck.  I’ve never walked out of a building with my glasses fogging up.  Visited A Taste of Texas for the fattest steak I’ve ever eaten.  24 ounces of marbled meat, floating medium-rare in a bubbling foundation of garlic butter sauce.  Good stuff. 

  Well, the Fearsome Foursome has gone its separate ways.  Not by choice but by circumstance and ambition.  We’ll all continue to see each other in years to come but it’ll be quite awhile ‘til the four of us are together again.  Good, honest friends who shared good times!  Why yes, all Asians wear glasses… because we LOVE math!  <wink>

  
  
  Dan, Tony, Gina, and Daniel

  -————————————-

  
             The Simpson Verdict (Ezawa Kota )

  ———————————

  Pebbles for a Pentecostal Church Mouse

   

  Charity

  Was a church mouse

  Her home was a hole in the wall.

   

  Sunday mornings

  Were quite the spectacle

  As she peeked through cracks

  In thousand years old

  Stucco…

   

  Where in wonder,

  People raised hands

  Struggling against the Fall.

   

  Charity

  Was confused:

  Was that oriental discipline

  Or did they hold aloft

  Their god?

   

  Tiny and scorned

  Charity squeaked and lived

  And to hers

  It was good and

  Wholly holy.

   

  Truly enough
  (For a stoning).

   

  ——————————–

   

                                   Everything in it’s Right Place

   

  memories… Matt11:28

  • 3:54 am
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