My God's Better Than Your God - 7/28/2010

My daily walk on the beach not only improves my health but my clarity as well. I get daily ideas for blogs, songs, and smartass Facebook posts. Unfortunately, since I have the memory of the east wing of a nursing home, much of this genius is lost before I can get home and write it down. But this morning was different. I had an epiphany.

I have an idea that will immediately improve the world more significantly than any innovation since fire. I am surely to win the 2011 Nobel Peace Prize. I am so sure of this that I am contacting JG Wentworth for an advance against the cash award. My idea:

Gather all documents, scripture, writings, and doctrine from every known religion: Christianity (including Mormonism, Protestants, Snake handlers, and Catholics), Islam, Hinduism, Buddhism, Sikhism, Judaism, Shinto, Rastafarianism, Scientology, Atheist, Satanism, and whatever others exist.

Edit these texts to find the following words: know, truth, factual, judgmental, infidel, certainty, right, sanctimonious, absolute, sure, real, exact, fact, true, certain, undeniable, veracious, genuine, hate, intolerance, virtuous, superior, faultless, infallible, irrefutable, perfect, unquestionable, supercilious, greater, higher, prophet, superiority, occupation, reality, arrogant, bigotry, fanaticism, holier than thou, self-righteous, pious, Holy War, narrow-mindedness, presumptuous, convert, judgment, kill, righteous……………….

and replace them with: believe, faith, hope, guess, speculate, fantasy, delusion, suppose, myth, conjecture, wish, peace, tolerance, clueless, confused, bewildered, superstition, mystified, opinion, fabrication, stumped, fable, puzzled, coexist, lore, cooperate, open-mindedness, fairness, unknown, benevolence, legend, compassion, indulgence, patience, understanding, leniency, rational, WAG, story, acceptance, assumption, hypothesis, theory, thesis, temperance, pidooma, sensibility…………………….

Without a doubt someone will read this post and nod their head in agreement, thinking it is true for all beliefs except theirs.

My Dog Can Smell Your Soul - 7/26/2010

My baker’s dozen of regular readers know that my boon companion is my Beagle, Skooter. Those that know Beagles realize they have an amazing sense of smell. They are often used for drug, cadaver, or bomb dogs. Skooter has a special ability.

I wish I was as good of a judge of character as this canine. He has divided all humans into three categories immediately upon meeting them and deals with them thusly:

1) If he likes them he can be very charming, sidling up to them and offering himself to be petted, stroked, or otherwise attended to. He will repay these kind gestures with a loving look from his big, sad, brown eyes. He may nuzzle them or even offer a lick, though his is not generally a licker. Chances are he may just stand by them and relax.

2) Some people he will totally ignore and even change course to avoid contact with them. He has sensed that they are not deserving of his favor but has not yet made a full determination. Through time, they can actually earn their way into the first group. They are on super secret probation and only Skooter knows why.

3) The third group of people has been instantly entered into Skooter’s shit list. His hackles will rise. He will snarl and bark at them and no amount of coaxing will change his mind. If he was looking at the devil himself, the reaction would be no different. If they had a pocket full of treats he would not alter his perception.

You may say that Skooter is exhibiting prejudice and bigotry, making an instant, baseless, judgment on the worth of a person. I think that Skooter’s position is that there are enough good people in the world for him to waste time on the bad. Not a bad policy in my opinion.


I can only speak for myself, but sometimes I am so eager to be petted, stroked, or otherwise attended to that I have often not been as selective as would be prudent as to whom I offer my back to. Historically, I have often been metaphorically stabbed in that back. Sometimes just a flesh wound and other times a near fatality, cutting into major organs. Usually the attack comes after I have squandered time, emotion, and resources on this schlemiel or schlemielette.

Skooters method of sorting humanity has served him well. He has never, to my knowledge, had a less than satisfying association with humans of his choice, while in my custody.



He does not choose by race, sexual preference, gender, economic status, or national origin. I believe he can smell their soul. Two people can approach him and he will select one (or none) to give his brand of affection to. Once they are accepted, they are members of Skooter’s inner circle for life. And I have to be honest. Those that he has embraced have proven to be worthy. Right Mike?

Skooter does have a trace of bigotry however. He pretty much dislikes all children. They are only eligible for categories 2 and 3. They tend to get in his face before he has had the opportunity to evaluate them, thereby forfeiting their opportunity. Oh yeah, and if you try to reach into our car, uninvited, all bets are off. He has to appraise you on his terms.

My Friend Steve Is Gonna Write a Blog

A young friend of mine told me last night that I inspired him to write a blog. I am not sure if I am gratified or dismayed. Is he encouraged because my words struck a chord with him or because he feels that “if anyone reads Rick’s pointless drivel, they will love my writing?” The same way that Wally Pipp inspired Lou Gehrig. Nobody is going to get that obscure reference. How about the way in which K-Mart inspired Wal-Mart?

I suppose it doesn’t matter how creativity is stimulated, just that it is. This particular person is only 17 years old and is very talented in many directions. He is a singer-songwriter, who has written a butt load of songs. He is a computer whiz that can hack into your website and change your “Church of God” to “Church’s Fried Chicken” in minutes. And unless your name is Jack White or John Frusciante, he can play the guitar better than you.

I am not, generally, a big fan of 17-year olds. Particularly pasty white, suburban, kids that assay to be black, and can’t quite pull it off. While many 17-year olds express their originality with a spray can and your wall, Steve channels his into music. While many 17-year olds can’t form a coherent thought, let alone a complete sentence, Steve is contemplating writing a blog. I applaud his efforts, regardless of his motives. I am humbled that he even takes the time to talk to an old geezer like me, let alone find value in my words.