Chicken with a pickle

In about 1964 my family had our kitchen remodeled. My stepfather designed this dark-maple Brady Bunch sort of thing with an oval table and a lazy Susan in the center, which matched the rest of the cabinets. It was something any suburban housewife, of the time, would have killed for. In fact, I think Mrs. Fields, who lived a few doors down from us on Viewpoint Drive, would have broken up my mother’s marriage for that kitchen.

But the que de grase that made that kitchen a candidate for Better Homes and Gardens was the flooring that harmonized with the whole arrangement – kitchen carpet. The highly desirable rayon top could be hiding some really nasty stuff underneath. I seems like most of the kitchen carpet I have seen over the years has had a stain-hiding design that hid a plethora of things growing, that if left alone, could eat Los Angeles, if it were to come unglued and released on the world.

The design of the carpet worked to hide spilled milk, a squashed bean or two or a waffle with maple syrup dropped and retrieved after the five second rule that left only a sticky spot for ants to clean up.

God designed people like kitchen carpet: beautiful on the outside, maybe with a great design, looking so beautifully installed and so charming with stains seeming to stay on the surface. Anything they say, you respect as truth, or at least their opinion. The way they are designed, the stains are hidden from view by tough skin, a toothy smile and a solid handshake.

Eventually homeowners figured out that the so-called impervious top of the rug only hid the nasty underbelly – the black foam padding attached underneath. It gave it the wonderfully soft spring. The nylon-weave on top allowed the dirt to penetrate and lie under a spotless façade.

Life is like a kitchen carpet (or a box of chocolates,) you never know what you’re gonna get (or uncover). Do we really know what lies beneath all those lies and innuendoes that pour from this Presidential campaign? What’s even more bizarre to me is that the messages being flashed on TV screens across the country are mostly paid for by a surrogate PAC (Political Action Committee). You should always listen or read the end remarks, which will tell you exactly who paid for the commercial.

But that’s an easy one. What about prejudice hidden under the skin of each of us; sometimes political, sometimes close to political and sometimes just politically incorrect.
Many times that dirty foam under the carpet comes out in ways God would never accept as his law, but it may sell chicken sandwiches. Many times I wonder what’s hidden in the words of those who use the Bible as a shield.

Who cares how other people live, who cares what kind of personal dirt lies under the façade of their clean carpet. While there are interpretations of the Constitution settled by the Supreme Court, so are there interpretations of the Bible made by the Pope or others who are trusted by a congregation.

Who cares if a man commits adultery, that’s between him and his wife; he is judged by a higher authority when the time comes. It is not for us to judge anything any man or woman does as long as it doesn’t hurt someone else. It’s called live and let live. It’s none of our business.

In fact, there have been more times than we would like to admit that a man is judged and sent to prison only to be exonerated after he has spent half of his life behind bars. We humans are so quick to judge, we have 2.3 million adults in prison with another 5 million on parole; a larger percentage per capita than any nation in the world.

Who cares who sleeps with whom as long as it doesn’t affect me or my family. Remember during the 2000 Presidential election, Vice Presidential candidate Dick Cheney denied the sexual orientation of his daughter Mary? Then in 2002, Cheney joined the Republican gay-straight alliance and said that sexual orientation should be “a non-issue for the Republican Party.”

My kids are as straight as an airport runway, but if they weren’t, it wouldn’t matter a hill of beans to me what their sexual orientation might be. Don’t you agree that your love for your children is unconditional; no matter if they are slim or fat, smart or not, weird or normal or gay or straight.

Jesus was asked, what is the greatest commandment? He replied the first is to love God above anything else. “And the second is like unto it, Thou shalt love thy neighbour as thyself.”

Now, I’m not a religious man, but that is something I can hang my hat on.


Sell Chicken?

So, your reaction to the public's support of Chic-fil-a is Mr. Cathy had a plan to increase sales? Really?

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