He was asked, "How you doing?"
"I'm 81 years old. I'm barely above ground."
"You're gonna get a ticket if you don't put your seatbelt on."
-Sideways glance.
What you gonna do if they take you to jail?
-Throws arm up to heart and says, "Oh, I'm having a heart attack."
"Did I tell you about that time they had that road block and those guys told me I needed to wear my seat belt?
I told them I was 70 years old, had lived through World War 2 and the Korean Conflict to keep this country free and nobody was gonna tell me I had to take a rope and strap my ass into my car.
They told me to get out of there because they had work to do."
Friday, August 29, 2014
The Shrine of Christ's Passion
Recently I found myself visiting friends in the Indiana area just outside of Chicago. During the visit, I was told of a place nearby that has a life size version of the 12 Stations of the Cross. An adorable young lady told me that "You can take a selfie with Jesus - ascending, not crucified, because that would be creepy."
I imagined a sort of life size version of the plaques you see on the wall of the church, and I could run to the very end of the row and take my selfie with Jesus - ascending, not crucified, because that would be creepy.
So, after entering the outdoor garden area through the Kirkland/Thomas Kinkade-esque gift shop, one first sees a full size Jesus sitting at a table with open seats. It appears he is waiting for (you) someone to join him for dinner (the Last Supper.) Since he is life size and it's a table with seats, I was strongly considering sitting down next to Jesus for my selfie. But then a group of very somber looking people began their walk, and it didn't quite seem appropriate.
So my friends and I continued around the garden to what I thought would be 12 statues in a row somewhere in Indiana. I was wrong. And I wasn't prepared emotionally for what was about to impress me. So, I admit it, I shut it down so it couldn't reach into me.
This is a purposely overgrown garden of a couple of acres with a life size temple, a path, large boulders, and over 40 bronze statues of Jesus, his disciples, Mary Magdalene, crosses and judges - all on a path that places you in footsteps designed to remind you of the walks of Jesus. It was impressive, and if approached with the right frame of mind, a powerful experience.
It was also hot. Really, really sun shiney hot that day.
By the time I made it to Ascending Jesus, sweating profusely but impressed by someone's dream turned reality for this walk of that last day of that life, I had lost my desire to take a selfie. I seemed slightly in appropriate. Though the ascending version of Jesus with six pack abs and hair blowing in the wind did lend a bit of brevity to the moment.
I might do two things if I ever go back.
- I would go on a day I could take a slower pace and allow myself to be touched by the dream of some artist who that created this tribute.
- I would definitely take a selfie. Because, you know, in the Christian belief, he did ascend. And there's nothing more cool than that.
I imagined a sort of life size version of the plaques you see on the wall of the church, and I could run to the very end of the row and take my selfie with Jesus - ascending, not crucified, because that would be creepy.
So, after entering the outdoor garden area through the Kirkland/Thomas Kinkade-esque gift shop, one first sees a full size Jesus sitting at a table with open seats. It appears he is waiting for (you) someone to join him for dinner (the Last Supper.) Since he is life size and it's a table with seats, I was strongly considering sitting down next to Jesus for my selfie. But then a group of very somber looking people began their walk, and it didn't quite seem appropriate.
So my friends and I continued around the garden to what I thought would be 12 statues in a row somewhere in Indiana. I was wrong. And I wasn't prepared emotionally for what was about to impress me. So, I admit it, I shut it down so it couldn't reach into me.
This is a purposely overgrown garden of a couple of acres with a life size temple, a path, large boulders, and over 40 bronze statues of Jesus, his disciples, Mary Magdalene, crosses and judges - all on a path that places you in footsteps designed to remind you of the walks of Jesus. It was impressive, and if approached with the right frame of mind, a powerful experience.
It was also hot. Really, really sun shiney hot that day.
By the time I made it to Ascending Jesus, sweating profusely but impressed by someone's dream turned reality for this walk of that last day of that life, I had lost my desire to take a selfie. I seemed slightly in appropriate. Though the ascending version of Jesus with six pack abs and hair blowing in the wind did lend a bit of brevity to the moment.
I might do two things if I ever go back.
- I would go on a day I could take a slower pace and allow myself to be touched by the dream of some artist who that created this tribute.
- I would definitely take a selfie. Because, you know, in the Christian belief, he did ascend. And there's nothing more cool than that.
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