It was December 23 and time for me to get serious about Christmas shopping. Driving down Baldwin Road, I saw two men arguing in front of a Nativity display, at Saint Eugene’s church. “People” I thought to myself as I drove by. Then I got that, ‘You better go back and see what that is about feeling.’
“Damn. I hope this isn’t how I get shot,” went through my mind as I turned my truck around. It looked like the situation was getting out of hand, so I sped up and slid into the church parking lot. Getting quickly out of the truck, I stepped on a patch of ice, and fell flat on my ass. At least that caused the two men arguing to stop for a moment. From what I could tell, it seemed one of the men was with the church. The other was in a T-shirt, and wearing a trucker’s hat that said “Holy Roller” across the front. He was sleeved out with tattoos, all of which were depictions of Eastern Rite and early Christian religious images. That’s when I knew my friend, The Son of Man was causing trouble, again.
“Gentlemen, gentlemen, it’s Christmas! This is not the time for arguing” I said I walked towards them, wondering just what Jesus was up to.
Jesus spoke, “I was just trying to explain to Nimrod here, that SHE didn’t look like that!” as he pointed to the Virgin Mary.
“Hey buddy this is the way it has always been, and no burned out flower child is going to tell ME what the Virgin Mother looked like!” The man was poking his finger into The Lord’s chest.
Jesus had fire in his eyes as he shot back “Think! They were from the Middle East. She didn’t have porcelain skin, or blue eyes, and she certainly wasn’t dressed like Mother Teresa in her Sunday best! And I didn’t have blonde hair with a gold plate behind my head.”
The church man replied, “I ain’t going to be dressing up the nativity here with no sand-eatin son's of bitches!” At that point, The Son of Man grabbed the church man by the neck with his right hand and cocked his other arm. I was waiting to see just how hard Jesus could hit someone, and what the aftermath would be. I thought maybe his fist would go right the guy’s skull.
Then The Lord let go of the man, sadly said, “Aahhh, what’s the use?” then turned away and started walking towards my truck.
“Do you know that guy?” the church man asked.
“Yes” I said, “He is my brother.”
“Well, you better up his dosage then!” the man laughed, as I walked away. The temptation for me to smash the guy in the mouth was nearly overwhelming.
Jesus was still steaming when I got into the car. We drove away in silence.
After I few minutes, I asked The Lord, “Why did that upset you so much? I mean, they have been putting up those things for centuries by now.”
Jesus said, “Brother Ted, they have gotten so much of what I said, and what happened twisted around, when I saw my mom looking like a ‘Barbie Doll in a Blue Nun’ costume, I just had to do something. It just gets to me sometimes, you know? December 25th isn’t even my birthday!”
“Yes, Jesus, I know. Christmas isn’t really about you, or about anything except and reason to buy gifts for people, many of whom you really don’t want to buy a gift for. It’s the season of obligatory cheer and faux love. That’s why I am out today. I usually can get in the spirit of the season. Lately, each year it is becoming harder and harder. The one part I do like is to give unexpected gifts. Why should gifts be expected anyway?”
After a few miles, I pulled into the snow-covered Home Depot parking lot. "Well, this is my first stop. I need to stop in and pick up some Christmas decorations. You coming along?" I askith HE.
Jesus saw we were at Home Depot. "You bet! My stepdad is a carpenter.” Jesus lit right up. “Maybe I can pick him something up!" Apparently The Son of Man liked the idea of unexpected gift giving too.
We entered the orange hell known as Home Depot, and I wandered around for a bit, pushing a cart with one bad wheel, and let Jesus wander around and enjoy being “The reason for the season.”
I heard a loud guffaw a few aisles over and found Jesus laughing so hard he was holing his stomach. Gasping, HE said, “Ted, Ted. We HAVE to buy this! “ It was an eight foot inflatable snow globe, with Santa Claus kneeling at a manger.
“You want me to buy this, after you nearly clobbered the guy over the church nativity a half hour ago?” The Lord does work in mysterious ways, I thought.
“Oh, oh, that was someone trying to protect an idea that he believed was sacred. This, this is true American art. Bad taste Americana, for sure. But it is a hoot!”
“Alright, help me toss it in the cart, and I will go find the outdoor extension cord, and timer for it.” I said while shaking my head.
The electrical cords were a few aisles away, on the other side of the store. After evaluating the different specs, I tossed two in the cart, along with an outdoor timer, and started working my way back towards the front of the store.
I head the sound of an air tool being used “pffft-thunk!” in the main tool aisle, and there I found Jesus trying out the various nail guns. He was shooting nails through his palms, hitting a piece of wood set up to try out the nail guns. There was a small crowd gathering. "Ted! Have you seen these things? They're great!" “Pffft-thunk!” as Jesus shot another nail through his hand.
"Oh noooo....this is bad," I thought to myself. The Son of Man, effectively mocking his own crucifixion with a nail gun.
"Dude! You are crazy," said the burned out pot-head nail-gun expert working the aisle.
"I'll take this one, and a roll of framing nails, and the compressor that can operate on 12VDC." The Lord was excited in a most disturbing way.
Knowing we had to get out of there, fast. I tossed the hardware into the cart and I hurried Jesus to the check out line. The clerk looked at Jesus with that, "I swear I have seen you somewhere else" look. The bill came to $749.67, for the nail-gun set-up, and another $200 for the Santa-manager snow globe. I looked at Jesus, and he padded his sides and shrugged his shoulders. Great, I have to by the Son of God some toys with my money, and a goofy snow globe that my neighbors are just going to love. "What are you going to do with all that stuff, anyway?” I askith HE.
"Me and the Angel of Death, a.k.a. Grim Reaper, have some pick-ups this today. I figured that the Angel of Death, would like the nail gun, instead of the usual scythe. It's a funny thing with people. They think they can spend their whole lives causing pain, misery and death to thousands, even millions of people, and then use their least breath asking to be forgiven" said HE. “Sometimes I like to be there, just to let them know they haven’t been successful in bullshitting their way through life. They may have bullshitted themselves, but not me.”
"Isn't that what we have been taught? It isn't acts, it is by grace alone?" I didn't understand.
"That load of manure was cooked up by churches so they could get people to cough up some wealth before they check out. Sorry, no dice." Jesus was unpacking the nail gun.
"Well, it is good to know that justice is meted out in the end, Jesus."
"Ted, do you remember the time your cousin told you that some of the people he saw as an EMT looked surprised at the moment of their death? Now you know why. It's another rule of the universe. People may not like it. They may see it as unfair, but it is the way it is."
"Where are you supposed to meet up with the Angel of Death? Is that what you call him, "Angel?"
“No, of course not! I just call him 'Bob."
"Now wait a minute. The Angel of Death, The Grim Reaper, is named Bob?" I could not believe that.
"Why not Bob? It's a good name." The Lord was amused.
"Alright, where are you supposed to meet Bob?" I asked.
"The Starbucks in Rochester.”
Of course, this made about as much sense as anything else that had happened today….
We got to the Starbucks, and there was 'Bob' who looked more like Neo from The Matrix, except for the fact he was about seven feet tall. "Bob, this is my friend Ted." I shook Bob's hand, it was not cold, but he had the deepest black eyes I had ever seen. We all got coffee Bob got the Cafe Latte, extra shot of espresso, light whip, and a caramel drizzle. The AOD sure was fancy with his coffee choices. He had no money either, of course. I picked up the tab for the coffee too. I mumbled, "You guys could bring a little cash with you...." under my breath.
We walked outside, and Bob looked at the sky and said, "This is a good day to die." Then he and Jesus laughed. Bob went and got his vehicle, a black Escalade with 22" chrome rims. I helped them put the nail gun and compressor in the 'Sclade." Do you want to come along?" asked Bob. "We normally don't take the Quick on these outings, but you seem like an okay guy."
"I am going to have to take a rain-check on that Bob, but thanks for the offer." Hanging out with the Son of Light and the Angel of Death, while fun and educational, would just be a little too odd, and probably a lot terrifying for me. Plus, I still had shopping to do.
Later that evening, I watched the news on T.V. to see if there were any deaths by nail gun during the day.......
Epilogue: Bob is a wicked shot with a nail gun. If you hear a “pffft-thunk” drop to the floor.
copyright 2009 Ted Sky All rights reserved
