Three Dollars Worth of God

I would like to buy $3 worth of God, please.
Not enough to explode my soul or disturb my sleep,
but just enough to equal a cup of warm milk
or a snooze in the sunshine.
I don’t want enough of God to make me love a black man
or pick beets with a migrant.
I want ecstasy, not transformation.
I want warmth of the womb, not a new birth.
I want a pound of the Eternal in a paper sack.
I would like to buy $3 worth of God, please.

— Wilbur Rees


Unfortunately I have met people intellectually challenged enough to read that as a racist screed instead of what it truly is, the most powerful expose of the condition of too many a human soul.

But then he used to travel through rough neighborhoods at night on his bike, too, in perfect safety. People know he's the real thing.

I must say that the American Baptists tend to be progressive compared to their Southern Baptist brethren. The more so, the better.

Funny story: When the small book '$3 Worth of God' came out, I read it with great delight and wanted to know more about the author. "Sounds like maybe a liberal Catholic" I thought to myself. He turned out to be an American Baptist minister! It's still one of my favorite books and poems.

stop me if you've heard this story before!

this tiny town in RedNeckLand - uh, 'flyover country' - where I retired for financial reasons. He was (maybe still is) a frequent passenger on the regional OATS minibus I used to ride twice a week. As a self-described intellectual, he often bragged how he had graduated 8th grade and could read, but his girlfriend had almost completed the 11th grade! I used to enjoy comedic characters like Barney Fife and Jethro Bodine until I met too many of their real life counterparts. Police chief (has one part time deputy) here remarked once that the guy is literally the craziest person he's ever met. Thank you, Ronnie Raygun, for dismantling the mental health centers those sad cases need so badly. One of the last times I rode the bus, the (now ex-) driver let this guy scream furiously at me a full five minutes w/o doing a thing to damp it down. Of course that driver was at least nearly as dangerous as his buddy passenger.

Point being, the usual 'gang of 10' as I thought of them, all considered themselves brilliant because they could regurgitate what they'd heard their idol Rush spewing the day before. My own sense could be questioned, I guess; I needed that damned bus too for transportation, but I should've kept ear phones and dark glasses on and my mouth shut the whole time. Usually I didn't argue back with them too much because a) they wouldn't listen anyway; and b) they usually kept up a bloodthirsty roar all on their own.

However, in true Irish fashion, sometimes I'd wait until a brief lull and then chirp, "Isn't it fabulous what President Obama did this week? yadayadayada." They'd all start screaming again on cue. Well, they'd already worn me out and I felt devilish enough to poke them back a little.

On rare occasions I'd bait somebody directly, as in the following account with a woman I'll call Keggy because she was often half drunk at least:

Keggy: "Last night Rush said blahblahblah (about economics)...."

Me: "Keggy, if you want to impress me with your financial wisdom, first you have to demonstrate some knowledge of the basics, okay?"

A moment of dead silence followed; she was at least able to grasp that something she wouldn't like was about to happen.

Me: "First of all, what's the difference between micro economics and macro economics?"

Dead silence. Rush hadn't told her that, possibly because he might not know either.

Me: "What's the main news organ of the NY financial community? Don't anybody tell her the answer, now!"

More dead silence, as expected, because I knew they didn't know either or they would've blurted it out.

Me: "Well, here's an easy one: Who's known as the Sage of Omaha?"

Not quite so quiet now; a low rumble of disapproval started.

Me: "OK then, let me ask you one more question. If you - and apparently everyone else on this bus - doesn't have the slightest idea in the world what you're talking about, pray tell why should I listen to you regurgitating the crap you heard Rush vomit on his latest show? Guess what? He probably doesn't know the answers either! hahaha..."

At that point if not before, all hell would break out. Today I'm still amazed I ever got off that bus alive. The (ex-) driver did eventually file a false police report against me, claiming I'd carried a gun on board and threatened everybody, and they were all ready to testify about it. So you can take your choice about who was more stupid, them or me for ragging them on now and then - but I had no choice! It was either that or risk a heart attack from stress.

Unfortunately I have to admit one thing: they really might have represented the brightest and best the locals have to offer. When I supposed that aloud one time, it took forever for the insult to sink in, and then it never percolated down past the surface. They just sensed somehow that it might not be quite the complimentary concession it sounded like at first.

(No, they're not ALL that stupid - just 90-95%) Be careful before buying a house in a red state. Maybe your yearly property tax will only be $184 refundable like mine, but you will pay big time in other ways.

Won't debate the finer points.

Kindly see post #9, if you will, please.

I grew up in a household that often included 8 or 9 people, never more than one bathroom. That's a laboratory for learning cooperation and familial duty. I suppose with some it could result in chaos, but we were just glad to have indoor plumbing.

which of their kids had preschool. My son was an only, so I put him in preschool for socialization as much as anything else. I don't remember exactly when, but it was first grade or earlier when a little girl got off the bus at his stop, and he brought her to me and announced that they were going to get married. I said fine, welcomed her to the family, and wondered if maybe we should let her parents know? Got her home safely, but they didn't want to part. Puppy love is a great gift to be cherished, not laughed about. I get furious with so-called adults who ridicule kids. That's why I can't stand Jimmy Kimmel and his Halloween prank. Imagine lying to a child and laughing when they cry - it's evil.

the subject arises regularly but fails because they think it might sandbox newbies. While I certainly want to roll out the welcome mat, this no-follow business actually hobbles users. Nobody (much) has all the time in the world to scratch around. It's inefficient, carrying its own set of problems that might well rival sandboxing.

They foam at the mouth. But they've learned to measure their words around me, at least to my face.

Although I must admit, I MIGHT not be the only person in the world willing to take a bullet for him.

I think if anyone ever did try to harm him, the crowd might tear such a person limb from limb. The Secret Service could find themselves outmatched. I know a prison sentence would be the last thing on my mind.