Tuesday, October 18, 2005

Fall Guy

Fall has finally, um, fallen in here in New York. Without a doubt, this is my favorite time of year. The air is crisp and clean and you can almost taste the exhaust fumes from the taxis and buses that make walking around the city an exhilarating game of life and death. Knowing that your alertness and cat-like reflexes are the only things standing between you and an untimely demise really makes you take stock of what's truly important.

With this in mind, I've decided to stop slacking and devise a plan for the rest of my life - and it turns out that I'll need your help.

**Yes, I mean you. Stop looking over your shoulder and hoping I'm talking to someone else**

I'm putting together the final pieces of my appeal to my fellow bloggers. Stay tuned for the announcement early next week. It's guaranteed to...erm...make you yawn and click on the "next blog" button...

...I guess in that way it's kind of like everything I write here.

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Jesus: The Carpenter Days

"What's taking so long? You promised that my new kitchen would be finished three months ago!"

He sighed and turned the proverbial other cheek. Hoping to soothe her frayed nerves, he put his hand on her shoulder and spoke in a gentle and calm voice.

"I can't help it. I'm waiting for materials. I'm a carpenter, not a miracle worker."

It didn't work.

"Don't bullshit me, Jesus. Everyone knows about your miracles. You can't walk three feet in this town without hearing about how you made a blind man see or how you cured a leper - and everyone is still talking about the time you turned water into wine at that wedding a few years ago."

"You're comparing apples and oranges, Mrs. Herbstreet. Believe me, raising a man from the dead is nothing compared to carpentry work."

She exploded again.

"It's a f**king kitchen for Your Sake! How hard can it be? It took Your Father just six days to create the heavens and the earth and all of the creatures great and small!"

Jesus fought the urge to roll his eyes. It always came back to that, didn't it? He took a deep breath and gave her his standard response.

"Sure, but how many houses did He build? How many kitchens did He have to tear down and redesign from scratch? There's no way he would have been done that quickly had there been construction involved."

She glared at him.

"Listen, Jesus, I've had it with your excuses. You have two weeks to finish my kitchen. If it's not done by then, I'm going to report you to the Nazareth Better Business Bureau."

"Okay, but you might want to think real hard before making threats like that. I mean, it would be a real shame if an act of My Father were to wreck this fine house of yours..."