when fortune cookies go bad, part 2

 This monkey’s gone to heaven
This monkey’s gone to heaven
This monkey’s gone to heaven
This monkey’s gone to heaven

— the prophet black francis
___

IMG_4268

Basically my fortune cookie is telling me “go bother someone else instead.”

Now if only I had a friend.

Mostly, I want a fortune cookie that tells me practical stuff. Like, if you’re running and drop dead in the Baptist church parking lot, do you automatically go to heaven? If so, do you pause your garmin and continue the run there, or do you have to start over? And just what are the age-group categories in heaven? Is there like a 3,500-3,504? And the post-race raffle must have incredible odds. Will my Garmin even work there at all? And am I stuck with whatever running shoes I’m wearing at the time? Because these kind of smell funny and I’d hate to stink up the joint. And IS there a heaven for balloons, my friend? Is there a place to which they go? How can a tiny song that you last heard at a folk festival 30 years ago still be floating around in your head? I think that I shall never know.

THESE are the sorts of things I want my fortune cookie to tell me. Not “um, go ask your mother.” Thanks a lot, panda express. Invaluable indeed. I hope I get a monkey in heaven and he clears all this up. And I hope he has a balloon.

About gary

no sock monkeys were harmed in the making of this blog.
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4 Responses to when fortune cookies go bad, part 2

  1. tosuperstar says:

    The only friend I have left is my Attorney and he charges $300 per call so I cannot ask any of these questions, it would break the bank! I am sure his advice is invaluable too, if only I could afford it. I wonder how much extra the monkey and the balloon would be?

  2. some guy says:

    I could only tell you what Presbyterians would say. Which is not very encouraging, so I won’t. I would go ask a Methodist or a Lutheran if I were you.

  3. SeniorRunner says:

    Pardon my innuendo, dear sir, but what if your untimely demise should occur – God forbid – in the parking lot of Jose’s Casa de Bebidas instead of the Baptist Church? This admittedly unlikely scenario raises more thorny issues than a West Texas prickly pear.

    For starters, how would your Garmin’s stainless steel alloy and polycarbonate composite construction hold up in “the other place”? Are your fancy glow-in-the-dark tech shirts treated with fire retardants? Do your “scented” shoes have explosive potential?

    We would also confront some profound philosophical questions such as, “Is the term ‘hot frosty’ an oxymoron?”

    I’m sure you have nothing to worry about…

    But you might consider doing your runs in multiple concentric circles within the church parking lot.

    • gary says:

      oh, el senor. you underestimate me so. As a lad, I was raised under the doctrine of the southern baptist church. this was because of my mom, and because I was trying to swoon miss rhonda hudson, whose father was a church elder. Along the way, I stumbled across a Great Theological Loophole: under the baptist doctrine, once you accept Jesus, you’re in. As I understand it, there’s nothing you can do from that point on that would negate your get out of jail free card. So I did, and went merrily on with my life. I didn’t care to be associated with a religion so intolerant of other beliefs that it was their way or the highway, but I hung onto my card just in case. No, that Rhonda thing never worked out. Fell for a cowboy. Sigh. God’s will.

      But just to play it safe, I moved to Phoenix for 25 years to train specifically for the second scenario. Running at 1 p.m. daily in the Phoenix summer allowed me to field test the equipment and acclimate adequately. I suspect now that running there would just bring back nostalgic memories of runs there. “You call THIS hot, Satan? I ran in 122 degrees in Phoenix once, you sissy.” But I hadn’t pondered the frosty implications. May be time to check in at the church on the loop. They DO have an air hockey table …

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