ZUKI SENT ON A “MISSION FROM GOD”……’cotton box’ central rises from ashes

tarot cardGood Morning Delicate Flowers,

The weekend came and went as it always does; much too fast. I was hunkered down in my little hovel waiting for pay-day when our neighborhood lost electricity. It’s such a pain in the ass when it happens because no one from Xcel is going to call to apologize and credit your account for the power lost and personal discomfort. We have no way of knowing how long our piece of the grid will be down! My shanty faces west and in August gets much too hot without AC, so I donned my tennis shoes and shorts and decided to walk around the neighborhood. Interestingly everything including the high school practice fields is connected by a network of nature paths that criss-cross a feeder creek and is actually well maintained for a flood overflow! The entry is less than a block away, so I left my sauna and began to explore.

Given the zoo I call home I always knew economically speaking I lived in an ‘E’ neighborhood. For those of you not familiar with this marketing term, it’s a simple demographic representing the income levels of every block in the city. A point of contrast would be ‘Cherry Hills.’ It would be labeled an ‘A’ neighborhood with ‘E’ being the poorest. As I took in the surrounding businesses and services it occurred to me how much more than a blue-collar trailer trash wife-beating locale it really is. Within a three block area I found ‘Metropolitan Psychological Services,’ ‘Clinical health Psychology,’ ‘Cobblestone Bookstore & Women’s Tarot Association,’ ‘Jay Schneider, PhD, ABPP,’ and ‘The Colorado State Government ‘Nervous’ Hospital.’ I had no idea I reside smack-dab in the middle of the ‘Cotton Box’ section of town, and I’m a bit ambivalent about it. Why wasn’t I told? Who’s responsible?

Not only was I terrorized by this ‘new shit that had come to light’ I was beginning to sweat profusely. It was close to 90 degrees and it was obvious I was ‘pitting’ up with the inevitable salt stains in all the wrong places, so I made my way down to the creek. Scooping up water I splashed my face and immediately cooled down. Careful not to ingest it, the water definitely soothed my sweaty neck and felt refreshed. Still looking down at the running water I could clearly see my reflection. I continued to stare thinking what a handsome devil I am, when darkness beset me. What was happening to me? I felt coerced to look deeper beyond my reflection to find the epiphany that most certainly awaited me. Then brilliant light replaced the darkness! Eureka!  I knew what I had to do.

I made my way back to the Cobblestone Bookstore & Women’s Tarot Association. Not knowing what I was to do exactly, I winged it and just walked in. Like the old EF Hutton commercials, the discussion ceased and as if choreographed the 10 women seated in a circle turned and stared at me. Beth politely asked “Can I help you?” I smiled and replied, “Is it possible to browse your bookstore?” “I’m afraid the bookstore is closed” she explained, “But feel free to join our discussion group” she invited, inserting another chair. “Is this what I’m supposed to do?” I thought. Beth is a reasonably attractive woman I guess to be in her fifties, but knew deep down she had to be a crazy person. Pressing on I accepted her invitation and took a seat.

After introductions Beth tried to get me ‘caught up’ and explained the discussion was focused primarily on the Goddess Gaia. Is she the God of Earth? Or is she the Mother Goddess from which ALL other Gods are sprung? Weighty issues for Wiccans worldwide to be sure. Since I had no prior knowledge of such things, I asked in a very level monotonic voice how she expected to find the truth? After the normal drivel about faith and some grand neopagen plan, I further explained to the group how their little coffee clutch is no different than any other religious sect, church, cult, mosque, or what-have-you; they all need money and claim to be the only true path back to God. Beth had taken on the very pinched look my ex-wife gets when displeased, and lost her hostess demeanor. She thought it best I leave.

As a parting shot I turned around and shouted, “You morons, what makes you think God even wants’ you back?” I turned and exited. God does indeed work in mysterious ways because it appeared the meeting broke up soon after my tirade and perhaps saved these desperate women a few shekels. Sometimes being a vassal has its rewards. “God bless us everyone” – Tiny Tim