Sunday, March 27, 2016


I never understood the Easter holiday.

Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Years - these are solid holidays, rife with meaning, release, relief, and maybe even some hope.

Lots of people make a big deal out of Easter even though, generally, they are not observing or celebrating any religious ritual.

It is a great day for family dinners and I dig that. Family get togethers are everything, especially as you age. Being surrounded by family is a deep and meaningful experience. Especially when the day is full up with conversation and laughter and, especially, a complete absence of phoniness, agendas, backstabbing, vicious mayhem and evil.

But I ain't tinkin' 'bout Jesus, mon, when I am digging on this day, belly stuffed and drink in hand.

Although I dig the whole Jesus on Easter weekend shtick. The fact that he was crucified on Good Friday.

By the way, why the hell is it called Good Friday? If, on a Friday, I had nails driven through my hands and feet into a wooden cross, and that cross was subsequently raised so I could suffer and bleed for hours until my death, I would not call that a good Friday.

Three theories. One, that it is considered a good Friday because it led to the resurrection of Jesus. Two, that it is derived from God or God's Friday. Three, it derives from an old tymey meaning of good, which is holy.

Take your pick.

Jesus supposedly died around 3:00 p.m. on Friday. I have always wanted to experience supreme insanity at that moment.

If the skies darkened, if thunder and lightening occurred, if there were earthquakes and hurricanes at 3:00 p.m. on Good Friday, I would become a convert. I would clean up my act, my life and my mind and prepare for entry into heaven.

Of course it would have to happen on eastern standard time (the daylight savings version.)

I dig the concept of resurrection too. The idea that Jesus rose from the dead, rolled that rock away and ascended directly up to heaven to sit at the right hand of his dad, is a very cool story.

If that were (was) me, this is how it would go.

I die.

"Oh my God, I can't believe that Joe is dead. He was a sweetly sensitive guy and he treated everyone as equals. Our lives will never be the same without him although we are richer for having known him. Our hearts are broken."

I resurrect.

"What, Joe is alive again? He came back from the dead? Are you kidding me? We have to put up with that jerk all over again? We have to pretend to like him again, at least to his face? This sucks."

Anyway..............I am sitting in the anti-ambition chair, laptop in lap, cup of tea by my side, waiting for my family to arrive.

Eddie, Keith and Craig,

Paula & Bill couldn't make it; Emily and Karen couldn't make it. The day is lessened for those absences.

However, we will be rocking it old school. Kind of like going back 17 or 18 years. Getting down to the roots of this thing that has grown to something so remarkable.

Gonna be a big day.

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