BRAINPAN LEAKAGE

I used to wonder if my family had ties to Mexico. We’ll get to why in just a bit…

If you happen to follow me on Facebook you probably saw a status update last week lamenting the fact that I had a fairly obnoxious Christian witnessing to me. She’s actually a nice lady, but she’s a little too passionate about her beliefs – literally to the point of being outright disrespectful about anything that doesn’t match her way of thinking – which, as she tells it, it God’s way of thinking. But, I’m not here to get into that… Suffice it to say, I received just as much advice on how to handle her from my FB friends as I did advice from her in the first place. My bad. I probably should have kept the whole thing to myself. But, again, I’m not here to get into that…

You see, on the heels of all that, I attended a family reunion – EKay’s side. This portion of the family, much as I love them, are also deeply ingrained in their religious beliefs. All good. However, some of them take the same approach as the young lady I dealt with the previous week – that being that even the simplest of conversations must be turned into a witnessing and/or sermon. At past gatherings this has forced me to excuse myself and go hide. This go around, fortunately, I was spared such, and had a great time. But, again, this has little to do with my suspicion of a Mexican heritage – or does it?

Here’s the thing: Being at odds about religion is nothing new to me. Portions of my own family were just as ingrained in their beliefs, especially on my Dad’s side. In fact, my grandfather literally “ran the pews” at his church. Whenever I would spend summers back in Kentucky, working on the farm, Wednesday and Sunday always involved Church. A lot of it. And there were other Church events – suppers, picnics, etc – where I would end up as well.

Again – where does this south of the border heritage thing come in?

Well, my grandfather would say grace at every meal. Now, while I may have been at odds with them about religion, by the same token I was respectful about it as long as I wasn’t being beat over the head too badly. So, when grace would come around I would bow my head, remain silent, and listen. My grandfather, Joe Sellars, would invoke Jesus, request blessings upon the food, the land, the family, and anyone else sitting at the table. If someone else needed to be included in the prayers they were, and then he would wind down to the end. As he approached the final “amen,” his mumble would become less intelligible – at least, to me. For years I struggled to understand what he was saying but never could quite put a finger on it, other than to the best of my hearing he was saying: Fiesta now and then, uh-huh…

Given that Joe Sellars ran the pews at the church, I think maybe there’s something to that. Apparently he was more of a “partier” than I ever knew.

I had it in my head that I was going to save this story for the magnum opus autobiography I would write in coming years, but since I really doubt anyone much cares to read about how I got up, went to work, then came home, over and over again for 400 pages, I thought maybe I’d just put it here.

But, who knows? Maybe something interesting will happen before I kick off, and I WILL write that autobiography anyway. If I do I think I’ll go ahead and call it, Fiesta Now And Then…

Just for fun I’ll have the release party in Water Valley, Kentucky and hold it on Cinco de Mayo…

More to come…

Murv

Usually when you find me talking about SPAM, I’m babbling (and drooling) about my favorite pressed, canned, pork leavin’s. That lovely ham-like, mystery protein that can be found in any market, lasts a little bit of forever, and is considered a near delicacy in Howarya (Hawaii).

I’ve never really had a desire to visit that little cluster of islands, to be honest, however, I do happen to like pineapple, coconut, and SPAM, so maybe I should give it a go sometime…

But, I digress…

This particular time I am not here to drool about food. I’m actually going to talk about what everyone under the age of 30 thinks of when they hear the word SPAM… Yes. Unwanted email solicitations from somewhere out in the ether.

Having spent many years as an Internet Systems Admin for an ISP, I am intimately familiar with the electronic version of SPAM. Of course, even if I hadn’t had such a job I’d still be familiar with the stuff because anyone with an email account is deluged with it daily. SPAM filters try their best to weed it out, but the crafty little beggars behind SPAM weasel their way around the virtual assassins whenever possible.

Now, the thing is I can actually understand SPAM to some extent. It’s just like junk mail that shows up in your mailbox in front of your house. Stuff addressed to Resident, or Occupant… You know, the things you give to the 4 year old who is desperate to receive some mail just like mommy and daddy. The thing about said SPAM/Junk Mail, however, is that it has an overarching purpose. It is trying to sell you something.

Siding…

Windows…

A really bitchin’ set of shelf speakers…

An amazing device that when attached to an average canister vacuum will ionize (or deionize, whichever is necessary) the air in your home automatically, making it smell springtime fresh and adding 10 years to your life…

Know what I mean? It gives you a sales pitch, pretty pictures, and an order blank… Sometimes even a coupon for 50% off on orders of two or more.

Over the years, the electronic cousin of Junk Mail, that being SPAM, has done the same thing, albeit for different products. In the case of email junk I am usually getting an offer for a Russian Bride, a breast enlargement, Acai Berry Juice, or Generic Viagra.

Annoying, yes. I mean, after all, E K would kill me if I brought home a Russian Bride (not to mention the bigamy consequences)…

I don’t need a breast enlargement – (hell, I had gynecomastia reduction surgery a few years ago, so why would I want to reverse it? I’m not made of money, ya’know, and besides, it hurt like hell… And not the good kind of hurt either if you know what I mean – wink wink nudge nudge- Even E K felt sorry for me.)

I can get Acai Berry at the supermarket. It even comes mixed with Apple Sauce – how cool is that? AND, I have coupons…

Finally, Wee Willie Winky has no trouble saluting whenever instructed to do so by the Evil Redhead. At least, at this point in my life he doesn’t. E K sees to that, thank you very much… But, if I end up needing the little blue pill later down the road, I will consult my physician and go see my local pharmacist.

Still, as annoying as it is, it all makes sense. Color pictures, provocative wording, and even coupons… It’s a sales tactic… It’s direct marketing.

I get it… Really, I do.

Or I did, up until just the other day. I think maybe this has something to do with the SPAMmers tactics in order to get around the filters, but here’s the thing – if the SPAM doesn’t make any sense, what good is it?

For example, the particular email that showed up in my inbox the other day and proceeded to spark this particular missive is as follows:

Subject:  AAA Christian sex Premature Ejaculation Cure

Body:  A Christian sex Premature Ejaculation Cukrre www. via65. com.
When Aliens tAtack Pormotional Trailer

This was followed by another email:

Subject:  Female Orgasms From a Woman - 11 Thing She Does When You
Are Not Lookiing

Body:  Female Orgasms From a Woman -- 1 Thilng She Does When You
Are Not Looking
www. via65. com. Woman Trying to Cheecat on Drug Test Asks Clerk to
Microwave Prosthetic penis Device

Can any of you tell me what I’m supposed to be buying here? I mean, I sure as hell have no clue…

Oh well, I guess it’s just one of those things, and I’ll just have to accept it.

Besides, I’m already late for my Christian Drug Test at the theater where they are showing the promotional trailer for the new Alien Attack movie, and I still have to microwave my prosthetic penis device, otherwise I won’t be able to prematurely ejaculate on the cheat sheet when the clerk isn’t looking.

You know… I think I’ll go make myself a Spam Sammich…

More to come…

Murv