We are a commune of inquiring, skeptical, politically centrist, capitalist, anglophile, traditionalist New England Yankee humans, humanoids, and animals with many interests beyond and above politics. Each of us has had a high-school education (or GED), but all had ADD so didn't pay attention very well, especially the dogs. Each one of us does "try my best to be just like I am," and none of us enjoys working for others, including for Maggie, from whom we receive neither a nickel nor a dime. Freedom from nags, cranks, government, do-gooders, control-freaks and idiots is all that we ask for.
(In my email this AM. Maybe everybody else has already seen it, but struck a chord with me, since Husband broke a couple of ribs- nearly killing himself- in the woods a couple of months ago:)
A woman named Jill stood up at her church's Testimony Meeting, or as some churches call it "Cry Sunday", took the microphone from one of the church ushers, and bared her soul to the suddenly attentive congregation:
"I want to tell you about the awful accident that my husband, Jim, suffered this past month. He was riding his bike, lost control, ran off the highway and hit a tree. He was rushed to the hospital, and could have died, but thank the Lord, all he suffered was a broken scrotum."
The congregation gasped in horror. The men in the congregation were obviously uneasy and writhed in their seats. "Jim has been in terrible pain all month since the accident. He has trouble breathing. He has trouble swallowing his food. He can hardly lift anything, he's in so much pain, and he has missed work because of it. He can't lift our children up to hold them and give them the personal love that they need. Worst of all, we can no longer cuddle and have intimate relations. He is in constant pain, a pain so terrible that our love life has all but slipped away into oblivion.
I would like to ask you all in the congregation to pray for Jim, and pray for us, that his broken scrotum will soon heal and be as good as new."
A dull murmur erupted within the congregation as the full impact of this terrible accident sunk in, and the men in the congregation were visibly shaken up with the thought that, "there but for the grace of God go I."
Then, as the murmuring settled down, a lone figure stood up in midst of the congregation, worked his way up to the pulpit, obviously in pain, adjusted the microphone to his liking, then leaned over and said to the congregation:
"My name is Jim, and I have only one word for my wife, Jill. That word is: STERNUM!"
Haha! Like a greedy MD I heard of who went sledding despite warning signs on a hill, hurt himself, sued his town (ie: his neighbors) and got millions, including a bunch of money for his wife's suffering not being able to you know what with him for a while...
As for me, sick of that worthless layabout husband of mine lolling around while I scrub and cook and clean for him...He keeps maundering on about his Higher Purpose in life, and says something about how one must take a stand, and does science experiments with that hemlock when he could be pruning the grape arbor or something, anything useful...And if those slimy boys don't shoo,I will puke! Can't the old fool see what they are after...sick of them eating my good food....