Sunday, April 5, 2015

Dry White Toast and Four Whole Fried Chickens

Today is Easter Sunday.  I am not an enthusiast on the related topics of God and organized religion.  For me, therefore, this Sunday shall be spent as most of my Sundays are, which is running rather than praying.  On tap today is a twenty-mile training run so maybe, just maybe, a prayer might find a spot on the agenda. 

As I like to say, much to my wife's discomfort, the Lord and I have an understanding.  I spend little to no time in his house and ask only that he return the favor.  Half a century or thereabouts up the road, it is an arrangement that has served both of us well.   I am cognizant of the consequences of my position.  As the great John Hiatt once observed, "It gets hot down where you're going.

While I believe not at all in the fable of Easter, I am mindful of the fact that many people do - including people who I love and respect.  If you are among those for whom today is more than just another Sunday, then may you and yours enjoy the holiday.  

Margaret has explained to me that what one person finds irreverent another person might find offensive.  For that reason, when I run down Harris Avenue this morning past OLMV Church I shall refrain from shouting, "I'm back!  I'm back!" as I did one Easter Sunday several years ago.  While I thought the humor in my send-up was self-evident, my beard is principally gray after all, it was interpreted at least in some circles as being blasphemous.  


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