The mudders will eat their fodders

11/20

Another two tours. Have to start the first one on my own. Decent neighborhood guy named Johnny. What’s his business, his interest?

Need to make my way to the dentist. An anxiety filled, fear inducing experience. Always. Waiting for the extraction, resisting metaphor construction where it doesn’t belong, I get a text message that chills me to the bone. Issues in our contract negotiation. Returning to the church, I try to avoid the feeling that Armageddon approaches. Jamie tells me not to worry about what I can’t control, to get on with my work that  can control. But how do you always know the difference?

11/21

Danielle has returned. She too feels the anxiety. I have to maintain the non-anxious presence. Right.

Marty gives me a good greeting. Says my blue hat with sunglasses perched on the brim make me look like a jockey. Says, what happens when the tracks’ off? 

Say what?

When the race track is too wet to run...you know, like Aqueduct?

Well?

The mudders will eat their  fodders.....that’s Abbot and Costello...he says and laughs. Then comes a long stream of consciousness. Big sales today reverend?

No, that’s Friday. This is Wednesday, the day before Thanksgiving. That happens Friday the day after. 

So when they advertise a sale item and you get there and they don’t have it, what is that?

That’s what you call bait and switch. 

Bait and switch, eh?  Are you sure that it’s not just marketing? Is that legal?

I shrug my shoulders. He goes into a long story about his father sending his to collect money on Jerome Avenue. Was this some rabbinic godfather thing? And then into a long story about a long walk from the Bronx to Harlem to see Rev. Ike. But when he got there, there was a visiting preacher. So I took the bus home he says. And then, I see a big check coming in the mail to you. A big check.... Where’d that come from? I hadn’t said a word to him. Maybe there’s something parabolic or prophetic in all this....hey, I’m open...

On the steps, Teddy and Stephen are in an argument. Managing it fairly well, but nevertheless....I tell them, I have a way to do this, but not today. Let me get through this, then.....

Martin walks down the street. Teddy and I and Martin head to the Dead Poet. Time for what we call a come to Jesus talk. A lay your cards on the table talk. A speak now or forever hold your peace talk.... Straight talk among friends? Or at least those who respect one another...

Walking back up the street, I see Mandola Joe and RL outside the Gate. Stop and talk, RL sharing his view of the lay of the land. And adding an invitation to a Thanksgiving meal. God bless you, RL. Only wish I could be three places at once. The man has a beautiful spirit and good heart. On top of that wicked sense of humor. Gotta just love the man. 

Danielle has gone home. Hugo has delivered turkey and dressing. The message is hope. I have a Thanksgiving service to get to.

Maybe next year at West Park. Hope. 

(For the full Abbot and Costello routine from November 9th, 1944 go to http://www.otrr.org/FILES/Scripts_pdf/Abbott_And_Costello/Abbott_And_Costello_44-11-09.pdf ) this one rivals their classic Who's on First....)

Abbot and Costello