Street Theatre

I was standing in line at the post office the other day and every single person in line was either talking on the phone, texting or checking their messages. The woman in front of me was actually holding her phone in such a way that I could see the text argument that she was having with her boyfriend. After I looked politely away I realized right then and there that maybe I was in the wrong business.

Instead of being a writer I should be a spy. One who works for some big industrial conglomerate that goes around initiating hostile takeovers of vulnerable companies.

If I were an industrial spy all I'd have to do to gather information would be to follow folks around as they went through their daily lives.

Case in point?

That day in the post office there was this guy on his Bluetooth broadcasting sensitive information. He had a nice strong voice and wasn't even trying to speak quietly. He did however keep telling the person on the other end that he was standing in line at the post office. But the funny thing is even though he seemed to be aware of that fact, he felt free to provide everyone in the post office with names, phone numbers, contact information, costing information, order information and other miscellaneous information that his client needed. And the information all involved big big bucks.

During the course of our wait in line, three things that this guy said and did really intrigued me.

The first thing was when he said that he didn't know if the client had heard that he would be leaving his current company and then not only listed his new salary, he listed the first and last names of the people he would be taking with him. And then said to the customer, "But the company doesn't know it yet, so keep it under your hat."

The second thing was when he said "Yeah, I'll be flying down to San Francisco on the 30^th to pick up my badge and gun."

But my all time favorite thing was when he finally hung up. He was at the head of the line by then and he suddenly put his packages on the counter and walked over to the copy machine. He bent down and scooped two dimes out of the change return, tossed them a couple of times in the air and then happily put them in his pocket.

He looked up at the rest of the people in line and smiled like he'd just won the lottery.

I stood there grinning like a fool while he mailed his packages.

I really wanted to follow him out to his car and ask about the gun and the seeming inconsistency of his huge new salary and the glee over twenty cents.

But then I figured, nah, he was probably just a charming guy lying through his teeth while standing in a government facility.

And since that's never happened before, I just felt happy that I was there to witness it.

I do love a good piece of street theatre.

Fairy dust

I am starting to believe Linda's theory that my car is sprinkled with fairy dust or something. Mainly because it does seem like I see an awful lot of weird things while I'm driving. And they never cease to amuse me.

Yesterday I was driving along and stopped at a light not far from where I saw the lady with the monkey in my road construction story. I glanced in my rear view mirror and was delighted to see a lady who seemed to be fond of Chihuahuas. So much so that she had decorated her car with Chihuahuas. Lots of Chihuahuas. She had three Chihuahuas on the dash in varying sizes, one pink, one blue and one that was of course the ever popular tan fuzzy kind with the bobble head that the dollar store sells. She had a yellow one hanging on the rearview mirror and a bunch of transparent cling on Chihuahuas arranged artfully on her windows. But the one that really got me was the one hanging from her passenger side visor. It was about the size of an adult's fist and it was just a head. A head of a Chihuahua. I couldn't help but wonder if it was a warning to all of the other Chihuahuas…….

While I was thinking this thought and grinning, I came around the corner and saw a really beat up car that was held together by duct tape. Literally. He even had a sign. "This car is held together with duct tape, spit and the prayers of my mother." I was SO sad that traffic was moving cause boy did I want a picture of that. I'll be keeping an eye out for him again and with any luck his mom's prayers work long enough for me to get a photo to share with you guys.

Then….and I know it's Halloween time and all….I was gobsmacked to see Death standing on the side of the road holding a sign. I've altered the sign since what Death had to say would have scared ya'all……and I just want you to know……I remained calm, even when he waved at me. [shudder]

The amazing life of Karen

I feel like I should be wearing a top hat and a striped blazer tossing a cane back and forth between my hands shouting "Step right up ladies and gentlemen, don't push, don't shove, there's room for everyone in the tent, put the kiddies on your shoulders so they have a better view….."

When I go to the park I see a lot of fun things.

I could tell you this story:

Last week there were six people all in a line on Segways travelling the walking path at the park as though they were some kind of high tech circus act. They added to the circus effect by parade waving and mugging at all who passed by.

Or this story:

One day I was taking a nap at the park and I woke up because I smelled this extremely strong odor and just as I opened my eyes a giant Buck emerged from the woods and stepped delicately over me.

Or I could tell you about the tree that looks like an octopus, about the time a mama beaver got out of the pond with her three little babies and walked right in front of me, or tell you about the day when a bunch of us saw a mink frolicking on the riverbank….

But I'm not going to tell any of those stories.

I'm going to tell you a tale of two bonks.

I know!

That's a great title.

When I told this story to a girlfriend she told me that I had better hurry up and write it or she was going to steal it.

So, here I am writing it.

Last Thursday I was having a pretty typical walk at the park.

The only variation from normal was that it was fairly late in the day.

I walked the ponds and got a good dose of vitamin D and overdosed on frogs.

After that I looped through the woods where a family of three deer walked right up to me.

I communed with them for a bit and then walked on.

In the butterfly garden a gorgeous dragonfly landed on me and then a tiger swallowtail let me get close enough to take an awesome photo with my camera phone.

I stopped as usual to look at a waterfall and some chickadees wove a little crown out of leaves and placed it on my head.

That was when a bunny came and sat on my foot and after I visited with it for a minute I hit the walking trail again and had two babies and a puppy launch themselves from their mother's arms at me.

Pretty standard stuff. And ok, one or two of those things didn't actually happen….

By this point I was walking along grinning like a fool and high fiving chipmunks.

I was JUST about to make the turn that marks the last half mile back to the parking lot.

I was on a hard scape walking path and not actually IN the woods anymore, so what happened was doubly surprising.

I was bonked on the head with a nut by a squirrel.

Which made me laugh.

A lot.

The squirrel shinning down the tree and YELLING at me made me laugh some more.

If you've never seen a squirrel yell, what they do is chitter really loud while shaking their bristling tail.

It's pretty hilarious.

This squirrel was really upset. His nut had bounced off my head and was laying on the path about three feet from my foot.

I stood still and watched to see what he would do about his nut.

What he decided to do was begin a cycle that went like this…. he yelled at me, stopped, shook his tail, stopped , took a step toward me, stopped, waited for me to step back away from HIS nut, yelled again, stopped, yelled some more at me, stopped, waited for me to take a step back away from his nut, stopped, shook his tail again at me, took a step toward me, stopped, waited for me to step back away from his nut, yelled again….you get the idea.

After we had gone through several steps of our standoff and I had stepped back six paces [we had drawn quite a crowd by then] he finally ran over to his nut, picked it up in his paws and yelled at me again, stuffed the nut in his mouth and ran back to the tree, where he PUT THE NUT DOWN, yelled at me once more for good measure, and then finally picked the nut up, stuffed it in his mouth, shinned back up the tree and disappeared.

People applauded.

It was one of the funniest things that I've ever seen a squirrel do, and I've seen squirrels do a lot of funny things.

So, I chatted with a few of the folks who had witnessed the event of the day [and watched one guy's video] and then grinning hugely went to retrieve my car and leave the park.

But wait…..there's more.

So I'm leaving the park and I see a guy on STILTS doing something interesting in the parking lot.

So NATURALLY I made my way over to him.

As I approached he walked toward me, held out his hand and said "Hi, what's your name?" we shook and introduced ourselves and then for the next hour or so I talked with him while he went through his stilt dancing routine.

The whole time he was playing this really cool European music that reminded me of the music they use in Cirque du Soleil.

He was using only two stilts at first and then he pulled out two more and showed me how he could crab walk and lay flat out on all four stilts and then he brought out his balance stick and showed me this amazing movement stuff that looked just like martial arts dancing. Very flowing. Very Tai chi.

I tell you it was something to see and he was really interesting to talk to.

He's also a juggler and juggles FLAMING THINGS and sharp machetes and is just working up a fire eating routine.

I should get to see some of that on Friday because he's performing at the Detroit Superior bridge. And of course I'm going to go with my camera so I can capture people doing amazing things.

So to round out the piece and tell you why I'm calling the story the story of two bonks….

I didn't mention the stilt dancer's name.

It's Bonk. Aaron Bonk. And it's not a stage name. I asked. It's his given name and it's what's on his business card which reads:

Aaron Bonk, Object Manipulation Specialist…..Juggler…Stilt Walker….Fire Performer…Customized to your Desires…..

That last part REALLY intrigued me until I found out that he's only 32…..*sigh*

Also see Aaron's Ten Questions Tuesday Interview Here

Aaron's How to Juggle Video

At least the car was stopped at the time

Two days ago I saw something that I never thought I'd see a woman do in public, let alone in traffic.

Sit back, make yourself comfortable and let me set the scene.

I was sitting in traffic.

It was a sunny day.

There was a lovely breeze.

The temperature was hovering around 77.

In other words, perfect convertible weather.

There was a woman in a car sitting next to me at the light.

Her car was a convertible.

An expensive high end one.

She also had an expensive high end look about her.

She was wearing good jewelry, she had a nice even tan and her clothes fit well and looked new.

Her hair was honey blonde, expensively cut with professional highlights as though she'd just come from the salon.

But if she had just come from the salon, she seemed to have forgotten to ask the stylist to go the extra mile and remove some other hair while she was there.

Because APPARENTLY while checking her lipstick in the mirror on her visor she noticed some whiskers.

And was intent upon removing them.

Right then.

Right there.

Now I may be old fashioned, but I think that female facial hair grooming should be done in private.

Not this woman.

She spent the whole time we were sitting at the light moving her tongue under her lip to thrust it out so she could tweeze her whole mustache area in her visor mirror.

She must have plucked twenty or thirty stray whiskers while we sat there waiting for the light to change.

Did I mention that she was doing this in the daytime, in a convertible?

A convertible.

As in open to the sky and all the cars surrounding hers.

Nothing between her and my eyeballs.

And nothing between her and the eyeballs of the grinning guy in the car on the other side of hers.

He locked eyes with me and gave me the universal do you see this eyebrow lift and hand gesture.

I gave him back the universal I see it but I don't believe it smile and head shake.

Then we both laughed.

I just sat there shaking my head and laughing until the light changed.

I thought about the lady off and on for the rest of the day and never did decide if a) she didn't care that people could see her b) she was oblivious to the audience c) she was just so freaked out by the whiskers that she couldn't wait ten seconds to pull into one of the multitude of parking lots available to her to tweeze the offending hair in a less public setting.

I don't know what she was thinking.

I do know that as she drove off I found myself thinking that I hoped that whoever she was driving to meet was well groomed.

Because if they weren't they might be in for a surprise.

This woman owns tweezers, and is not afraid to use them……

I don’t think you can do that in Ohio….the monkey per redneck ratio is too small

I was sitting in traffic waiting for the cars ahead of me to figure out how to merge one after the other into one lane because of construction.

The first five vehicles or so had apparently never seen this done before and were not doing a good job of allowing the harried road crew worker to direct them safely into one lane.

It was hot out. It was the end of the day. Tempers were frayed.

Some of the drivers seemed to need a refresher course in the Golden Rule.

Although interestingly enough, the folks who seemed most likely to need a refresher course in do unto others had a really good grip on how to use their horn.

And one of the horn blowing motorists reminded us all of how much fun it is to make interesting hand gestures at another motorist and that it's okay to follow up the hand gesture by shouting something rude to a construction worker who's just trying to do her job.

As I said, it was hot out and tempers were frayed.

Luckily there was no gunplay.

As I was sitting there smiling, patiently waiting my turn, because a) I'm polite and b) I was sober and c) I love a good piece of street theatre, a red van with California plates came abreast of my car.

Traffic had crawled to a standstill while the knuckleheads sorted whose turn it was out, so the red van and I were face to face for about two minutes.

The driver of the van was an older woman. She had long gray hair topped with a blue knit hat.

The knit hat peaked my interest since she was wearing it in 80 degree weather, so I watched her for a minute.

She sat waiting for a break in traffic so she could turn into the entrance to a couple of chain hotels and a restaurant.

She was holding the wheel in the ten and two position and I could see both of her hands.

About three seconds after I looked at her movement by her chin caught my attention.

To my surprise and delight, on her shoulder was a small monkey.

The monkey was just calmly sitting there on her shoulder running its fingers through her hair in long smooth strokes.

While she sat there waiting to turn, it stroked her hair over and over in a soothing way.

I don't know if the monkey was soothing her or itself, but it made my day.

It was such a cute monkey.

I wondered if when they checked into the hotel if the lady would have to pay for a double occupancy room, or if she'd just leave out the part about traveling with a monkey.

[like those ladies with purse dogs on airplanes]

In my mind's eye I could just see the tiny monkey tucked up into a double bed with the covers up to his neck with only his tiny sweet monkey face sticking out.

I sat there and smiled harder.

The lady saw me and gave me a big smile in return.

I didn't notice any change in the monkey's expression.

I have never before seen someone traveling with a monkey.

I started thinking that maybe everybody should have a monkey to travel with who would sit on their shoulder and soothe them.

Then I started thinking that maybe every construction worker who had to deal with yahoos at rush hour could have a shoulder monkey too.

The best part of that idea would be if the monkey was both a soothing monkey and also an attack monkey.

That way if someone was rude to you while you were on the job, the monkey could launch itself at the rude person and grab them by the nostrils and head butt them.

But you probably can't do that in Ohio.

With all the construction?

We'd need an awful lot of monkeys.

Superhero at Large

Early one Tuesday morning this past fall I was driving along about two miles from my house.

I stopped for a red light just before entering a school zone.

I was sitting there, minding my own business, singing along loudly [and badly] with the radio.

My attention left the song I was singing when the floorboard of my car started to vibrate.

It tickled my feet.

What I saw tickled my whole body.

Coming toward me, still in the school zone, was BATMAN.

Batman, in full Super Hero regalia, driving sedately through the school zone at 20mph.

He was riding a huge black motorcycle. He rode toward me, cape billowing behind him, the sun glinting off of his shiny handlebars.

The ground rumbled beneath the bike.

I couldn’t have been more delighted. My mouth fell open and I started laughing.

As he came level with my car, I goggled at his Batman mask, his Batman tights, his Batman utility belt, his Batman boots, his Batman gloves.

The only deviation to his workaday crime fighting clothes was fringe hanging all along his gloves. The fringe dangled from wrist to elbow. I say deviation from his usual clothes because I’m of the generation that grew up with Adam West embodying Batman on tv, and Adam didn’t have fringe on his gloves.

I started wishing that everyone I knew was in the car with me to see Batman riding around in my neighborhood. As he passed me, I scrambled in my purse for my camera phone. I got the window open and my arm out, but by then he was too far away to get any kind of picture.

He did give me a tiny two fingered salute.

And I gotta tell you…..it made me all butterflyee in my tummy.

About a week later I saw a headline on yahoo that a guy dressed as Batman had been ARRESTED in Florida for wearing a mask in public. Apparently as part of the homeland security guidelines wearing a mask in public is a no no.

This law makes me wonder how the good guys will be able to protect their secret identities.

Will we force all of our crime fighting heroes to abandon their posts?

Will they all be unmasked?

Will the evil doers know who they are and where they live and thereby be free to come to their house to kick their dogs and pull up their shrubs?

I hope not, because I love the idea of Batman casually tooling around early on a Tuesday morning.

I wondered if he was coming from or traveling toward something official, like opening an electronics super store, or a child’s birthday party, or disarming a nuclear warhead.

Or maybe he was just on his way to pick up Robin to go shopping for some brie and a nice chardonnay.

Whatever he was doing, I hope that Ohio never opts to arrest Batman for being Batman.

Superheroes need to remain at large. To delight young and old. To do what they do best. To make grown ups into kids again.

And if anyone knows how to mount a video camera to the hood of a car, please send me an email.

I want to be ready for the next time.

Mug full o’ spider

Last Thursday I was lying on the floor watching Burn Notice. I mean a biography on Albert Einstein. Yes, that was what I was doing, watching a biography to improve my brain.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw something move. I turned my face and there, three inches from my eyes was the biggest spider that I have ever ever seen outside of a pet store, or loose in a friend's car in high school.

Let's explore that for a minute…..my friend who shall remain nameless, but his initials are Jeff Kaehler, had a pet tarantula that got loose in his car. Prior to the escape the spider had been much loved and well tended. Jeff reveled in displaying the spider's prowess at snapping #2 pencils with its formidable jaws. Therefore, once it was loose in the car there wasn't a lot Jeff could do about finding it and returning it to its cage if he also valued his fingers. And he did. Value his fingers that is. Sooooo, he left his poor lovely spider in the car, with the windows up, in the hot sun, in August, for days…..hoping that it would get hungry and come out so he could catch it. Or alternatively, and sadly, meet its demise so he could safely resume driving his car.

Now, I might be wrong, but I'm pretty sure that the story I heard was that after a week of no sign of the spider, he got into the car and drove away to the self serve car wash to use their giant vacuum cleaner to dispose of the corpse.

About half way there, he felt a slight tickle on his leg. He looked down, and sure enough there was his furry friend climbing his leg. He managed to pull over, capture the little guy in a baseball hat and put him in the glove box. Then he drove home, got the cage, opened the glove box, the spider JUMPED into his house and began devouring the waiting food. So all was right in spider land that day.

My story has a murkier ending.

I have always been a person who catches bugs and lets them go outside if at all possible. Where I live now my windows have fixed screens, so anything bigger than a ladybug can't be released out of the windows.

The evening of the visit from the giant spider I was already in my jammies. My front door opens onto a hallway, not to the great out of doors.

When I saw the giant spider, I jumped up and went into the kitchen to get something to catch it in. My dishwasher was running and all of my glasses and large mugs were inside. I scrambled around and found the mug in the photo.

I put the mug down in front of the spider and he climbed in. HE JUST BARELY FIT. I covered the top with a paperback book and ran squeaking to my front door. I tossed him into the hall as close to the exit door as possible.

There's a gap under the door and my hope was that he would find it and go outside. I went back to watching Burn Notice. I mean Albert.

A few minutes later I heard panicked screaming in the hall. It was a man's voice, screaming in a high pitched girly way and also swearing, quite loudly and inventively, in a much less girly way. A lot of doors opened and shut while other tenants looked out to see what was up.

I cracked my door and watched the spectacle. The guy was hopping around on one foot and then actually LEAPED into the air and grabbed hold of the staircase rail in one big sideways motion. He scrabbled at the rail with his feet churning until he found purchase for his giant sneakers and then he disappeared from sight.

I closed my door grinning and went back to watching tv. I checked the next day and there was no giant squished spider in the hall. My hope is that the little spider guy came to no harm and is living happily outside.

Now my question is, does it make me a sexist because I found the freaking out guy funny? If it had been a woman or a child who discovered the little hairy guy, I would have felt bad about tossing a giant spider into the hall and scaring them.

But since it was a guy, I was amused.

Hmmmm….maybe I'm a closet sexist and don't know it….

[does some soul searching]

Nope, I'm pretty sure that no sexism was in play since the whole amusement thing hinged on this PARTICULAR guy freaking out about something that was one one hundreth of his size, and that he could have easily squished with his giant number twelve sneakers.

I hope you don't think less of me.

And speaking of thinking less of me…I wasn't watching a program about Albert Einstein to improve my brain.

I was watching Michael Weston blow stuff up. So there. And I bet Michael wouldn't have been bothered one little tiny bit by a big black hairy four inch spider…… unless it showed up in his yogurt. Then he would probably have been pissed. Michael hates it when anybody messes with his yogurt.

Life’s Little Delights

I love people. I love to talk to people. I love to watch people. I love to watch people talking with other people.

You get it, people are interesting, people are fun. Glad we have them here on planet Earth. Moving on.

Just about every day I see or hear someone doing or saying something that later works itself into my writing, or into a comedy bit, or just into a story to amuse my friends.

Sometimes it finds its way into all three.

It's not unusual for me to find more than one hidden iceberg of comedy lurking just beneath the surface of my ordinary day.

I have a friend who teaches his comedy writing students to keep a notebook with them at all times to write down anything that strikes their fancy.

One day I saw something that still makes me grin whenever I picture it.

I didn't have a notebook, but there is no way short of a severe brain injury that I'll ever forget watching this particular scene.

It is seared into the synapses of my brain, or at least into the synapses connected to my funny bone.

I was taking a course at a local college and just before class I was sitting in my car at a traffic light waiting to turn into the parking lot.

The car in front of me had one occupant. He was fiddling with his rear view mirror while the light was red.

The light turned green but the car didn't move.

I'm a polite person, so I gave him a minute to notice the light without honking my horn.

I was so glad that I did.

We ended up sitting through two cycles of the light because he was busy perfecting something and I was busy laughing my butt off and hoping he wouldn't see me and stop.

The car's occupant was a young, stick thin guy who was so white that he verged on being incandescent.

He was dressed all in black.

His eyes were lined in black.

His hair was dyed jet black.

He had multiple piercings in his face and ears.

He was painfully cool.

I could see him thinking about how cool he was right there in his rear view mirror.

He didn't notice that the light had changed because he was intently watching himself.

What he was doing, for want of a better phrase was "pose smoking."

At first he was just smoking normally, but then he began sending the smoke out of his lips in various ways; at the roof of the car, out of the side of his mouth, in one big exhale, etc.

Then he tried improving his style by smoking his cigarette in a "French" way, holding the cigarette between the second and third finger of his right hand, the back of his hand bringing the cigarette to his mouth; his whole focus seemingly riveted toward getting the sneer just right as he blew the smoke back out into the mirror.

I sat there grinning, covering my mouth so he wouldn't see.

The light changed, but he didn't notice it, and I sure as heck wasn't going to honk at this point.

Next, he tried smoking the "looks like he's smoking a joint" way, pinching the cigarette hard between thumb and index finger, deeply dragging so that almost the whole cigarette was burned up in one inhale.

Once he had his lungs sufficiently filled with smoke, he attempted a smoke ring.

One smoke ring came out just fine and then the next didn't go so well and he began an epic coughing fit.

He was hacking so violently that even though he couldn't have weighed as much as his spare tire, he was making his whole car bounce up and down and rock from side to side as he coughed.

I was laughing hard by then and not even attempting to hide it.

I sat there whooping, torn between acting on my mommy instincts; hopping out, patting him on the back and offering water, and hoping he'd continue.

Before I decided between the two, he recovered.

He used his sleeve to dry his eyes, checked the status of the light, which was red again, and lit another cigarette.

This time he opted for the eyes squinted up "let it hang out of the side of my mouth while I talk" tough guy look.

So, there he was, eyes squinted up, smirking, cigarette dangling from his lips……a haze of smoke encircling his head…..intently watching himself in the mirror.

When he shot himself with his finger gun and followed it up with the universal what's up chin lift……..

I almost wet myself.

Seriously, I was laughing so loud at that point that I don't know how he didn't hear me.

But, sadly, before he could rummage around and find a really long cigarette holder and do an impression of a sixties spy movie villain, the light changed and he drove into the lot. (he would have needed a long haired white cat to stroke while smoking to complete this visual anyway)

I do have to say that I don't approve of smoking. It's a disgusting habit. It makes you smell bad, taste bad and inhibits your ability to rhyme. (little known but true fact)

I've always been, as Tony Randall was often described, "a militant anti smoker," but on this day I loved the tobacco industry because it was truly one of the funniest things that I've ever seen someone do in real life.

To be fair, I guess he thought that he was doing it in private. But HELLO….those glass things you can see out of???? People can see IN too.

I'm so glad that I waited when the light turned green.

If I'd been impatient and honked at the guy, I would have missed his whole show.

The lesson learned?

If you're observant and patient and kind and wise and gentle and open hearted…..the universe rewards you by letting you see something funny enough to make you snort bologna out of your nose.

So to sum up…….smoking isn't cool no matter how many ways you try it…….neither is necrophilia…..which has nothing to do with anything ....other than in my personal lexicon of uncool things, smoking and necrophilia are both in the top ten, so I thought that I'd share.

SpongeBob is my co pilot

Now I know that this is an awful photo, but to be fair, I took it from inside my car, through my windshield, through their windshield on a sunny day, trying to be clandestine. I was trying to be clandestine because I didn't want to scare anyone off; especially not the owner of this well blessed car. (I was also being clandestine because when you spell the word surreptitious correctly is just looks wrong.)

Depending on what the driver looked like and how approachable they seemed, I was going to ask about their double icon decision.

I hung around for a while, well for quite a while, until I got hot and thirsty as a matter of fact. Finally I reluctantly left my vigil and went into the large electronics store where we were parked.

I was still grinning when I went inside, and an employee asked me why I was so happy. While I got a drink of water I told him about my sighting and he told a couple of other people and soon I tromped back outside with six employees of said store in tow and then the greeter joined us to see what was up.

We ALL waited while speculating on the why of it all, and hoping to meet the driver who presumably had all of the answers. Or maybe he had some REALLY BIG QUESTIONS of his own.

But the owner never showed, so we went back inside, them to work, me to buy a tiny appliance.

SpongeBob and Jesus had really made our day. (There's a sentence I bet you won't see in print twice today.)

But I had then and still have now, a lingering niggling question.
Just as a fun stop you in your tracks and make you think image, I love this combination.It could be explained as easily as hey, I like Jesus, and the grandkids like Spongebob, so what's the big deal?

BUT WHAT I REALLY WANT TO KNOW IS……..WHY ARE THEY BOTH FACING OUT????

And EACH seems to be blessing the road ahead.

Wouldn't Jesus AUTOMATICALLY cancel out SpongeBob?

Just what extra base is this person covering by having both? Inquiring minds want to know. And oh yeah…want to caption it?

How Happy Was I To Have A Camera Handy?

Anyone who knows me well knows that I delight in small things.

I look for things daily to delight IN. The smallest thing can make my day and leave me chuckling for hours.

So, can you imagine my reaction as I looked out of the car window while driving along the highway at 70 mph,
And

Not only seeing
JESUS rising out of the ground….but being able to find my camera, focus, and actually take a photo of the spectacle?

I thought that I'd died and gone to heaven……