My Moments of Doubt

As we all know, life takes a lot of faith. You think there's rhyme and reason and purpose, and not that things are just random, haphazard, and lacking in meaning. It always nice to find a place of security like that, which has been the happy story of my life. It's good to dwell secure like this, like an infant, satisfied and content, never knowing anything else. I'm in bliss right now, even as we speak. See my eyes rolled back in my head? I'm dwelling on several planes at once, all blissful.

But once in a while, even I have to confess, I have my doubts. I shake myself, go for long walks, hit the reset button, the escape button, anything to get back on track. And it works, it really does work, as opposed, say, to the ESC button on your computer that never does anything. Then I'm happy again, and without these doubts, my eyes go back to their normal place, rolled back.

My life can serve as an example for you, and it can also serve as a cautionary tale, that you never have doubts.

One of the things that I doubt is that the Congress of the United States has the best interests of their country at heart. I see the gridlock, the sniping, the endless procedural wrangling, the posturing, the needless opposition to every apparently reasonable plan, and that's just the Republicans. Then they pass bills that don't make the slightest sense, and I just have to say, "I have my doubts! If this is your idea of the 'best interests' of our country, then you're cracked!" These doubts shake me.

One of the biggest doubts of my life, seriously, just happened a couple weeks ago. I was out with a friend, and having a pleasant time over coffee. It was so pleasant, I didn't think anything in all of God's creation could ruin it. Had cockroaches marched in spitting on the table, I'd still be content. It was comfortable. Then my friend told me something unbelievable, that pork and beans was on sale at the store for a nickel a can. I was like, "What?! That's impossible! You're cracked! I have my doubts about that!"

Try as we might, we could never get back to the pleasant time we'd been sharing. It was on my mind: I know pork and beans is always 69 to 99 cents a can, $4.99 at a convenience store, it can't be a nickel a can, it just can't be! But my friend was sitting there straight faced. I took a hasty sip of coffee and burnt my lip, then descended back into this pitiful reverie: At a nickel a can, I could stock up for the apocalypse, and still have money for ammo. But I'll get to the store and there'll be a line around the building. I told myself, It just can't be, no sir, I'm calling BS on this, I HAVE MY DOUBTS!"

Just then the waiter comes to our table, and my friend says, "That guy looks familiar," going on to suggest that he works as a waiter at another restaurant while simultaneously being not just a waiter here, the newest restaurant in town, but the owner. Now I'm wondering about my friend. No one would do that, would they? Own a restaurant, be a waiter there, and be a part-time waiter in a different restaurant?

I fleshed it out in my mind -- with the pork and beans occasionally crowding out the waiter story -- and came to the conclusion, Yes, it could happen. Think of it: He might be waiting at the other restaurant to get enough money to pay rent on this place, since it is a new restaurant. Still, wouldn't that really dissipate his energy, energy he could be putting into this restaurant to make it a success? That kind of splitting his time might just make this place fail faster. Bottom line: I have my doubts!

I'll spare you my other doubts, because I doubt you're all that interested.

Out Drinking With Death

I'm very shaken up. It's weird, I'm usually so calm, but this is craziness hit crisis proportions. Can you really believe the price of drinks? I'm old -- I remember 25 cent draws and dime pitchers! So to say I'm aghast is an understatement; this goes way beyond that!

Why haven't I been out binge drinking in decades? you ask. I've never been that great at making friends. But now -- it's bizarre -- I got to know Death himself, and it's like we're inseparable. I hadn't seen him since the other day, when he guest-blogged on my site. Then he was suddenly gone, just vanished. Then this past Saturday, early afternoon, during breakfast, I noticed a black mist -- kind of dark in color -- taking shape at my table. There he was again.

Of course I asked, "What's up?" and he shrugged his shoulders. I had an immediate suspicion that he'd been out on his unique business, so I just said it, "Spill the beans." He put his hands up in mock surrender, as if to say, "You got me." In enumerating his deeds over the past couple days, he went on and on. For him it was a typical day, nursing homes, hospitals, alleys, schools, prison showers. He yawned, then perked up when he told me about an elephant sitting on a guy in the circus up in Minneapolis. I said, "How'd that happen?," genuinely curious, and he just smiled, "Must've slipped ... or something."

Anyway, now that we're friends, I suggested that we go out to one of the local watering holes and tip back a few. Even though I don't drink much, usually, it's proverbial that a few stiff drinks can wash your troubles away. Death looked at me like he was stunned, and then smiled, saying, "You know something? No one's ever asked me to go out like that, I appreciate it..." It's true, I'm an extremely nice guy.

We got to the bar and settled in with a couple beers. Then I had another beer and a whiskey chaser. He said, "Ah, a boilermaker." I said proudly, "Yup, that's the ticket." At least I thought it was the ticket till the barkeep told me the price of admission, very high; I was stunned.

Pretty soon, I was brought moderately back to reality when Death killed a guy for wasting seltzer water and hogging the bottle. The guy was out with his buddies, and apparently hadn't gotten the memo that such a thing was a mortal sin. I thought, "What? You just killed a guy?" but really what can you say when everything you say might be used against you? I chalked it up to "Better him than me," and proceeded to have another drink, and at these prices, it was shocking!

Well, you know me, drinks go right through me; the alcohol settles in my liver and I'm immediately drunk, but the remainder heads straight for the exit -- I had to pee. I was in the can, trying not to make eye contact, but still looking very interested at the graffiti. How do people have enough privacy to write such filthy things? "For a good time, call...blah blah blah." Shocking. And of course disgusting drawings of anatomically correct figures in flagrante delicto. It's all revolting, my senses were shocked. Just then I heard a scream.

I rushed out to see quite the row, screaming, shouting, some pushing their way to the doors, only to be pushed back by police on their way in. I thought, Just what I need, to be made a public spectacle in the company of these losers. But the spotlight wasn't so much on me as on two fresh corpses draped over the pool table, and Seltzer Guy. I glanced over at the bar and Death was still sitting there like nothing happened, nursing an overpriced drink. The police swarmed the place looking for the lowdown.

I said I'd been in the can when it all went down. I glanced over at Death to vouch for me but he had vanished. The police thought I looked shifty, I guess, so I answered a few questions. Did I have any idea what happened? I tried my best to beg off, till at long last, I blurted out, "It looks like Death got them!" I wasn't smarting off, but that's how they took it. I only managed to get them back on my side by complaining vociferously about the cost of drinks these days. One of the officers was about my age, and he also remembered with fondness the cheap drinks of yesteryear.

The guys from the County Morgue came and emptied the trash, at long last freeing up the pool table and seltzer bottle. I went home -- don't worry, Death drove -- but even being lubed as I was, I still couldn't stifle my loud disgust at today's prices. Yes, three guys were dead, but I bet those beers were three fifty a draw! It was a complete shock to my system.

Take All You Want, Want All You Take

Take all you care to eat, but care to eat all you care to take.

Take all you will eat, then eat all you take.

Take your fill, but fill yourself with all you take.

Take what you want, but want what you take.

Take all you choose to eat, but choose to eat all you take.

Take all you think you will want, but if you think you do not want what you have taken, think again what it was you first thought you wanted, then eat it.

Take it or leave it, but leave all you have not taken.

Take what you will eat, but eat what you have taken.

This simple policy helps keep our prices low.