Ora pro nobis, yo.

Noted earlier on – as in last posting – I have a pretty good time with folks come to the door trying to sell me a soul. It doesn't happen very often but more 'n once or twice a year and I start to remember 'em better.
     The Mormon thing, well that was an interesting moment.
     I was over a friend's digs, putting together a Heathkit AM/FM tuner for him, bits at a time, when some Mormons did indeed knock on the door. Matter of record.
     Then a couple days ago I got the knock on the door early up a week day morning. I was home, as was Cid, 'cause both of us was feelin' puny and it was all we could do to keep ourselves awake from one nap to the other. Between that and all the concomitant parts of having some rhino virus, we was just plain blowed away.
     So the knock on the door.
     It was just after the postal organs had deposited the days fun, so I figured it would be cool to see what was up & get the mail outta the box at the same time.
     I opened the door and noticed quick off that the guy at the door had a black prayer-ish lookin' book in his mitt. There was a woman with him, similar attire and also holding a book.
     Bible thumpers, I thought to myself.
     This did not preclude me from being friendly and all that "good mornin', neighbor" stuff.
     The guy intro'd himself and I acknowledged by saying that I'd seen what I could only guess was a bible in his hand.
     He acknowledged my acknowledgment as I opened the mail box.
     I made some mention about the mail.
     He made some mention back.
     And right there on top of all of the stuff in the box was the monthly edition of the FFRF newspaper, Freethought Today.
     I said that it was interesting coincidence that he should have a bible in his paw while I was taking my monthly disbelief newsletter outta the mail box.
     He didn't get it.
     I explained: "You're sellin' belief and I ain't a believer."
     So he explained back that he was going around inviting people to see how the bible was a source of solace and quietude in troubled times. The bible was a book that showed how the future would work out.
     I said that I didn't believe and the I didn't want to take any more of his time and I wasn't gonna let him take any more of mine.
     "Thanks for stoppin' by. Have a nice day."
     They left.

Now prior to this, or just as I had opened the door and looked out onto what would have been a beautiful day to be outside, were Cid & me not tied to the Kleenex box, I noticed a county auditor's vehicle parked in front of the house.
     "Oh Lord, let these two belong to that vehicle," I said to myself 'cause ain't nobody else was listenin' to my thoughts but me.
     Well, it weren't.
     At least I don't think it was. The pair on the porch left by the steps and walked down the street, passing the county vehicle and walking on down the street toward the bank. So I didn't have to worry about church/state issues.
     It was such a relief to me to see them not take county bus that I went upstairs immediately, took a nap and immediately upon waking up from the nap, wrote a letter to my friends at the Freedom From Religion Foundation telling them the story and enclosed a donation check.
     Then, feelin' drained and puny again, I took another nap with the cats.

This is the second time in what I can only remember as a couple three months. Peeps show up at the door with their holy books or whatever and try to convince me that I'm needin' saved or goin' straight to hell unless I'm washed in the blood of Lord Jesus.
     Seriously.
     I take this stuff in a good frame of reference. I mean, they's all just good-hearted folks worried for my soul. They show up at the door and hope to bring me into the light. They usually get a pretty friendly rejoinder from me and that's it.
     But the other day while I was out in the printery thinking of Joey the Car Wiper, I came across a sticker that I swear I'm gonna put on the door.
     It's one of those "not allowed" red circle with a diagonal line through it signs. Under the red diagonal and inside the red circle is a restroom gender kinda sign with the characters holdin' bibles.
     "No bible thumpers allowed."
     "Take yer jive simpering superstitionism somewhere else, you mutant albino freaks!"
     Only problem is, if I do it, Cid will be up in arms over it.
     She said the first time it happened that she was surprised that I had been so calm and gentile about it. I said I'm always calm and courteous about my disbelief. I'm even that way about belief in general.
     I guess she expects me to go off like a rocket and tear the holy word up into shreds and tatters right there in front of the poor delusionals.
     Like hell.
     There's standing at my door and there's assault. The standin' is ok as long as it doesn't become a matter of me havin' to shove 'em off the porch. The tearing up the book would be pilfering from the poor retards and then assaulting their beliefs right there on the porch.
     That wouldn't be fair.
     It'd be like kickin' a puppy.
     But I have to say that the past two occasions is pretty much my limit. And I have to say that it's likely that, after two such visits that I know of, and with my neighbors pretty much knowin' well-enough by now that I don't believe, that there'll likely be more.
     There'll always be more.
     In fact, there's some suspicion in my mind that some day I'll wake up and there'll be a hand-holdin', candlight-filled, mumbling & gyrating prayer group standing in front of my house, legal on the sidewalk, prayin' for me.
     Oh, please, Lord, let that cup pass from me, yo.
     'Cause if it does ever come to that, I will definitely have a problem.
     I'd have to kick a puppy or two to get 'em to leave. And hope that they would.
     My orbit is fixed. And the more gravity gets piled up against that, at my LaGrange point, you might say, the more out of kilter the rest of the universe will become. I'll be steady as the rock of wherever and they'll be out there gyrating on the sidewalk and then it will become difficult.
     They'd be impeding the progress of foot traffic back and forth from the bank. And you and I both know that we can't have people unable to get to their money.