Friday, April 28, 2006

Dude, where's my god?

People always seem to be finding god. As though god is like a set of keys that can be misplaced.

The thing is, the people who find god are always these desperate people who are on the brink of being held accountable. Prison inmates always find god, to which we can only be thankful that god is an intangible object that can't be whittled into a shiv or a shank and used to harm other inmates. Intangibility is also convenient because inmates like to tell everybody that they found god. If god could be smoked this sort of proclamation would be dangerous because other inmates would be inclined to steal god.

You never hear about happy, successful, law-abiding people finding god. Spouses who cheat seem to find god right around the same time their affair is discovered. Drug addicts find god right before they get busted for kiting bad checks and pedophiles seem to find god three seconds after they realize that the 12 year-old boy they were instant messaging is actually a 29 year-old cop. But nobody seems to find god until they need a miracle to get out of a jam.

Too bad keys aren't like that. We've all had one of those mornings where everything seems stacked against us. We slept through the alarm, and woke up to realize that all of our work clothes are still in the washer because we forgot to put them in the drier before bed. Somehow, we manage to overcome these obstacles and find ourselves in a fine position to make up lost time by speeding to work, only to discover that our keys are gone. Eventually we find them, too often in the ignition of the car, but not until we have lost our opportunity to get to work on time.

If keys were divine, we'd only lose them when it didn't matter. Like on one of those Sunday mornings when you get a craving for an Egg McMuffin, but settle for a bowl of Captain Crunch because we couldn't find the keys. It's disappointing, but not enough to fret over. The keys will turn up. But come Wednesday when you can't miss that sales meeting those keys are hidden better than Jimmy Hoffa.

God's exactly the opposite of keys. I've looked for him, even though I really didn't need him. I didn't need those Almond M&M's either, but when I found them I still ate them and very much enjoyed their chocolate goodness. I don't know if god's as satisfying as candy-coated, chocolate-covered almonds, but I'd love to try. If only I could find him.

I suppose I'll have to wait until I shoot a nun or run over a cop, then I can only imagine god will be right there in my jacket pocket. Just like my keys.

1 comment:

C. said...

*loud buzzer noise*

Sorry, but every ocne in a while you run across someone who says "Da FUCK with God" right when life seems its shittiest.

Rare, yes.

But probably a much more serious "God situation" than the ones you listed.

Oh, and did I happen to mention, DA FUCK WITH GOD!?