Everything touches everything else.

A short story.

(C) 2008 by Some Cranky Guy

“What was it like to pee on earth?” The angel asked.

“What?” I responded.

“Peeing. On earth. What was it like?”

I looked away, rubbing my temple with my fingers. It was not possible to have a headache in Pre-Heaven, but one could be astounded. I was astounded by this question.

We were sitting on a stone bench in probably the largest garden I have ever seen. Flowers were every where, large fields of them, meadows, streams, beautiful tall trees, fabulously blue sky, the works.

“Why would you ask such a stupid question?”

“I never peed before.”

“You’ve never gone to the bathroom?”

“No. I’ve never been an animal.”

I looked at the angel. A physical body of light, similar to mine, only a whole lot more intricate and beautiful. Mine was like a used Ford Focus. The angel was like a Jaguar XKR 100 convertible

Unlike the animal bodies on earth, the bodies in Heaven or Pre-Heaven did not need to eat or drink for nourishment. Our bodies were physical and solid, but comprised entirely of light, or energy maybe is a better word. We received nourishment through the light that was everywhere in Pre-Heaven/Heaven. We didn’t need to eat anything, but we could eat for enjoyment all kinds of fruits and veggies that were 100% metabolized. Thus, no peeing or pooping.

“Trust me. You aren’t missing anything.”

“It sure must have been an odd thing.”

I ignored him. Her. It. Whatever. There was no gender here either. How did I get here? Some asshole cut me off on I-95, I swerved to avoid him, hit the right guardrail, yanked the steering wheel hard left and crossed two lanes until an 18-wheeler hit me in the rear and pushed me through the left guardrail, whereupon I sailed through the air and landed on top of the Tri-rail train coming into Miami-Dade County. I think the explosion was what really killed me. Or my animal body that is. One moment I was staring out my windshield as my vehicle dove head first toward the train, and next thing I know I’m sitting on a stone park bench, in a kick ass perfect body, feeling more awake than I ever thought possible.  I mean a w a k  e!

“Where is Larry?” I asked the angel.

“His name is not Larry.”

“What is it then?”

“We don’t have a need for personal names here.”

“So, when is Larry coming back?” I pressed.

“Time isn’t measured here.”

I turned to look at him.

“Could you just screw off then?”

“That is rude.” The angel said. “Rudeness is not permitted in Heaven.”

“This is not Heaven, right? Some sort of Pre-Heaven?”

“Well, not quite.”

“I’m bored.” I said, standing up. I was wearing a comfortable pair of cotton slacks, and a soft cotton white shirt. I was bald. In fact, no body hair at all. Not even nose hairs. No need for that here. But damn, I felt physically awesome.

“Larry will be back soon.” The Angel said.

“I thought his name wasn’t Larry?”

“I’m just trying to be helpful.” The angel said. “You make it difficult.”

I walked over to a tall tree with beautiful star shaped blue and yellow fruit.

“Any law against me eating this?” I asked.

“No law, go right ahead. You will enjoy it.”

I pulled one off the tree and bit into it. Damn, it was indeed awesome. I cannot explain it, but it was as if my entire spirit was having some sort of orgasm.

I took another bite, savoring the flavor. And another. Soon, it was gone. No seed, no stem, the entire fruit was consumed.

That was when Larry tapped me on the shoulder. Oddly, I did not jump out of my skin. I just turned and stared into the bluish eyes ever. I mean freaking ever.

“So, what’s the scoop Larry?”

Larry was taller than me or the other angel, who I had not named yet. I was leaning toward Clyde though, but Leonard was also being considered. Larry wore a robe.

“The scoop, Mr. Howard, is that you are going to return to earth.”

I wiped the last trace of juice from my lips. I thought about that.

“What if I don’t want to go back?” I asked.

“Doesn’t matter.” Larry replied, smiling very warmly at me.

“Don’t I have some sort of rights?”

“No, you don’t.”

“Can I see a supervisor?”

“I am the supervisor.”

“What if I appeal?”

“There is no appeal.”

“I assume there are no practicing attorneys here?”

“You assume correctly.

“And if I choose not to go back?”

“Can a falling rock argue with gravity?”

I gave up. Tried to slide my hands into my pockets, but did not have any.

“These slacks don’t have any pockets.” I complained.

“What would you put in them?”

“My hands for starters.” I said.

“Certainly, I can understand that.”

Suddenly, I had pockets. I slide my hands in them.

“Won’t I be an invalid if I go back? I mean, my car smashed through the guar rail, soared through the air and landed smack on top of the Tri-rail. I must have had most of my skin burned off, and no doubt will be in a full body cast for life.”

“Not if you don’t hit the right wall.” Larry said. Suddenly, he had pockets in his flowing robe, and his hands were inside them.

“Really? Just hit the asshole who cut me off? And then the 18-wheeler will hit me anyway. That does not sound too much better.” I said.

Larry bent down on one knee, smoothed some grass out of the way and motioned me over.

“Here is the asshole that cut you off.” He said, drawing in the sand with his finger.

“And here is the 18-wheeler coming up behind you.”

I nodded understandingly.

“The second I send you back, you lay on the horn with all you got. Jab at your brakes four times in quick succession, the asshole will veer back to his left, and then you stomp on the gas and accelerate before the 18-wheeler creams your ass.”

I looked at the drawing in the sand, then looked into those blue eyes.

“Are you supposed to say ‘ass’ up here?” I asked.

Larry stood up, brushed the sand from his hands.

“I can do whatever I please.”

“Soooo….I really got to go back? “ I asked.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“You have things yet to do.” Larry said.

“So, why let me get killed in the first place?”

“So that I can have this conversation with you. So that you can smell the fresh air, eat the fruit, feel the reality of this place, and know that it exists.”

“I don’t understand.”

“That’s OK. I do. Everything is under control.”

“So, that’s it?”,  I asked. I blast my horn, jab the brakes four times, then hit the gas?”

“Yes.” Larry said.

“Oh, and one more thing.” He added.

“Yes?”

“After you avoid the asshole and the 18 wheeler and finally make it home, I want you to do something.”

“OK, sure, what?”

“When you are walking up your sidewalk, I want you to stop half way to your door, look to your left, and wave a greeting to your neighbor.”

“That young kid? That gang kid?!”

“Yes.”

“How about I shoot him with my 9mm?”

“No. Wave a greeting, and tell him Larry says hello too.”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“Larry says hello?”

“Yes.”

“And what will that accomplish?” I asked.

“It will make a beautiful Chinese girl in Beijing pregnant with a beautiful boy nine days later.”

“What the hell?” I blurted out. “How?”

Larry smiled.

“Everything is connected Mr. Howard. Everything is touching everything else.”

“Well, I don’t see how . . .”

I slammed on my horn, jabbed my brake pedal four times, which caused the freaking asshole to pull back into his lane.  I saw the 18 wheeler filling my rear view mirror and I hit the gas pedal and accelerated as fast as my car could go, and I swear, I mean, I really swear I think the 18 wheeler barely tapped my rear bumper before I blasted down the highway. That was the closest I think I ever came to being killed in a bad accident. I was too shaken up to even shoot someone the finger.

I eventually made it home, still shaking a bit. I pulled into my driveway, and started walking up toward my door, when for some reason I stopped about midway. The idiot gang kid was next door, just leaving. Our eyes caught each other’s, and I don’t know why, but I raised my hand to him and said “Hey, how you doing?”

“Been better.” The kid said. He had moved in three months ago, and this was the first time either of us had said a word to one another.

“Yeah, well, it will get better.” I said.

“Ya think?” He said, looking at me with dark brown eyes and not a glint of happiness in his face.

“Larry says hello!” I said. Don’t freaking even ask me why. It just came out of me.

The kid snapped his head back, stared at me. Then he smiled. Weird.

I figured my narrow escape had really shaken me up, so I nodded at the kid and walked inside the house.

I had to pee like a racehorse!

###

An article in the Miami Herald explains how the local government will make themselves richer while causing more traffic congestion, waste more gas, and cause more pollution.

The HOT lanes on I-95 northbound will open in July or August. HOT stands for  Hand Over Tolls.

Here’s the deal. There are six northbound lanes on I-95. The sixth one, the most inside lane, takes you to the stupid ineffective I-95 flyover lane. This is the huge sky scrapping lane that shoots above the Golden Glades Interchange, supposedly saving you time by eliminating the need to navigate your way through the interchange. This was another brilliant idea that our crooked inept government came up with years ago to speed traffic. Except there are two flaws with it.

1) I-95 doesn’t go through the spaghetti of highways that make up the Golden Glades Interchange. It skirts it to the east, and you pretty much have a direct shot through.

2) The new flyover actually is a longer ride than the normal I-95. And since you have to fight your way all the way over six lanes, including passing through a Turnpike only lane, and then when you land on the other side fight your way back into normal I-95 traffic, it is slower than staying on I-95!!!

But hey, lots of government and contractor types got filthy rich building it, and isn’t that all that matters? I mean, it isn’t like government is suppose to be serving the people or anything.

OK, where was I? Ah, yes, the new idea these crooks and criminals have developed. The HOT lanes. According to the Herald artilce, “By the second week of July, crews will be installing orange candlestick lane delineators that will create the barrier between the two ”express” lanes and the four ”free” general purpose ones.

OK, how am I going to leave the “general purpose” I-95 lanes to get into the Turnpike lane, which happens to be one of these HOT lanes? I get on in North Dade, so I travel about one mile on this HOT lane, assuming there is a way for me to avoid all the flying candlestick lane delineators that will no doubt be flying all over the highway. And then, I have to pay a toll for that one mile ride. A toll that can vary from 25 cents to $2.50!!!! And ONLY if you have sunpass.

WTF???

Currently, in order to get onto I-95, you have to be going highway speeds on the on-ramp before you even attempt to merge into the solid streaks of vehicles. But these idiots are going to make you stop at special on-ramp traffic lights, in the high crime neighborhoods that line I-95 from downtown to the Golden Glades. Lonely, secluded on-ramps where criminals will think it is a victim smorgasbord!

Here is an idea. Leave the freaking highway alone you jerks!!!

And, remove the freaking toll booth at the Turnpike, and close the freaking “Flyover” and let us drive!!!

But there is no money in that for the government and contractors and bureaucrats.

Did anyone ask for this? No. We asked for mass transportation. But we aren’t getting that. We are getting the shaft instead.

This is a perfect example of government existing for the purpose of government. 100% non-responsive to the people. Government, in theory, should exist only to serve the people. Not people existing to serve the government.

Solutions? Ban political parties. Ban spending money to get elected. Reduce government by 75%. Imagine the money savings alone!

Instead, people are fighting among themselves in this pretend Democrat/Republican war. It’s a fake people! It’s a diversion to keep you fighting against one another instead of uniting to fight the real enemy – the politicians, the government and the bureaucrats that control our lives.  If you think McCain or Obama is the answer, you are fools. Stop fighting each other, join together as one people to demand responsive, small government of the people, by the people, and most of all…for the people!

Change your party affiliation to Independent. That is the first step.

Peace out people.

SCG

There is an article in the Florida (Except Miami-Dade County) Sun-Sentinel that describes your options for personal self defense. In a nutshell, the three they describe are:

1). Pepper Spray, which if you hit the assailant in the face will disable most (but not all!) people for a long time.

2) Stun guns, which will disable everyone for about 30 seconds or so, and requires you to be close enough to touch your assailant.

3) Taser, which shoots two darts out on wires that will disable your assailant as long as both darts hit him.

I’m not very confident with any of these, as they all have significant drawbacks. Obviously, the first thing you should do is to take measures to lessen your value as a target of crime. Some tips:

1) Ladies, don’t, I mean just don’t carry purses the size of small countries.

2) Ladies, if you do carry a large purse, don’t dangle it by two fingers, with it almost dragging on the ground, with every single zipper compartment wide open. (Yes, I am speaking to someone special here.)

3) Be aware of your surroundings. Try to get cash back at the grocery store instead of at the ATM behind the bank building next to the alley.

4) When you get gasoline, ladies, use extra caution. Hide your purse out of sight, lock the doors, and try to keep your keys out of sight. If you have pockets, place them inside one. The new thing is for two deadbeats to pull up next to your car. One guy gets out and sticks a gun in your ribs demanding your keys. He then clicks the doors open, the other guy opens the passenger door, grabs your purse, and they both take off. With your purse that is the size of a small country. They can do this in broad daylight in less than 10 seconds. Maybe if your keys aren’t in sight, they won’t try you. But still, best to have your husband/boyfriend get gas for you. Unless you are a lesbian, and then I have no idea what you can do.

5) Don’t leave anything of value in plain sight inside your car. Even for 2 minutes. The Pembroke Pines Crime report has dozens and dozens of cases a week where purses, store packages, laptops, you name it, are stolen from cars. Often they just smash a window, grab, and go. This even happens at day care centers when you are dropping off or picking up your kids.

6) Try not to go out to dark convenience stores or other high crime places at 2:00 AM in the morning just to buy a Mars bar.

7) Forget the three self defense items listed above, and go with a real deterrent, like this one here:

This has the advantage that you don’t have to be standing immediately next to the assailant. Also, if you miss them with the first two or three shots, you likely still scared the shit out of them, and gunshots are a whole lot more effective at getting the police to show up than a whistle. And, you got about five more tries at the scumbag.

Oh, if you hit the guy, chances are you are going to slow him down a lot quicker and longer than a stun gun or pepper spray. In fact, you might just slow him down pernamently. Which means he won’t be able to hunt you down later on and kick your ass for spraying him with pepper spray.

Better yet, move yourself out of stinking South Florida, where virtually the entire tri-country area is more dangerous than some parts of Iraq, where the police chiefs are crooked, and the police keep track of their own stats, which surprisingly, shows crime to be down!

I’m thinking Idaho.

Peace out people. Be careful out there, eh?

SCG

I was going to write something about how Sean Hannity must be the dumbest man in America, but then again, if you’ve ever listened to five minutes of his radio show you already know that. So, I decided to not get all stressed out and rant and rave about that very, very, very dumb man, and instead post a few pics I took today.

This is of the Miami Herald Guy. But since I was driving to work much earlier, I don’t think he was set up yet.

*  *  *

So, I’m doing about 75 on the Turnpike when this old dude passes me.
And then the skin from his face passes me.

*  *  *

On the way home tonight about 8:45 PM, stopped at a light,
I threw the camera in Shutter Priority mode and set it to a long
exposure. This isn’t great, but it is kind of interesting….

*  *  *

Tried a little time lapsed photography while driving home on
The Florida Turnpike.

*  *  *

You can see more photos at my companion photography website – www.somecameraguy.com

Peace out people.

SCG