In the credit-where-it’s-due category, today’s shenanigans are brought to you through the generous help of David Bankhead, Morris Kruemke (sp?), John Ohnemus, Chuck Banks, Ira Agins, Pat Widder and unknowingly, Tom Austin.  Thanks guys.

 “I could go east
and I could go west
or I could decide 
which way I like best
But when I look at what was,
well it sure was a mess
so I try not to think of you,
cause then I just get depressed….

As I’m streaking across the greater south central part of the country, I’m finding myself on-goingly distracted by the verse above. I’ve no idea why it has chosen now to tirelessly repeat itself through this increasingly shrinking amount of mental capacity I seem to have less and less of every day. I’m out here on a “treasure-hunt” type of excursion, with specific plans for some places I want to see, but mostly leaving the acquisition of new bonuses up to chance. It’s not a typically good way to go about this, but hey! It’s my time and $$, so what do you care.

An amusing bonus theme begins to appear on the rally in the form of making riders continuously repeat the action of visiting one of the self-proclaimed “World’s Smallest Churches” over and over and over. To me, this brings up the fundamental question of why a church would go to any length to attain this status in the first place. Seriously, is it so they can exclude anyone they don’t want there?  Is it to create the illusion of unavailability.  “I can see it now: “Jeez, Larry, we’d like to let your dying grand-nephew in, but we’re all full up….maybe if you got here earlier next week and brought a larger offering…….you know”  

Well, you can take advice about this one here from the Dirkster. The reason all of these churches are claiming this is because it falls right in line with doing what they do best, and that’s lying to you. Look at it logically here.  If 9 different churches are all claiming to be the “World’s Smallest Church”, then at least 8 of them have to be lying. Though our test sample may be small, it can’t be denied that over 88% of the churches in this situation are simply incapable of telling the truth.  I don’t say this to harm anyone, I’m just giving it to you straight. If you don’t like it don’t kill the messenger. Actually, I’ve got a better idea. With all the powers in me, I’ll promise you eternal happiness after you die. I’ll tell you that you are accepted as you are. I’m telling you that I like you. I’ll promise you that the answer to true happiness is in following the word of a book that a lot of people made up a few thousand years ago. All this can be yours. All I want is your money. Now. And lots of it. In fact, I want all that you can afford to give and then some. And I’ll make you this guarantee: If you pass away and find out that you’ve been scammed all this time, I’ll give you a complete refund, no questions asked….though proof of your death will be required. But in the meantime, send me your money. All of it. Godd (that’s how he really spells it) wants you to. He told me so.

….and there’s lots more religious crap to come. I’ve not even gotten started here.

“As I’m passing on the right 
some guy flipped me hello, 
as I’m riding through the middle of New Mexico
I’ve got the damn needle hittin’ one-thirty five,
And it seems I’ll never get off of this hiway alive. 

Man-kinds rabid fixation with religion leaves me puzzled, and in a way amused.
I envision scenarios where two RFC’s  (rabid Christians) are squaring off when one pulls a gun.

The exchange:

Q)  Do you believe in God?

A)   uhhh, no….

       BANG!!!

Or how about:  

Q)  Do you believe in God?  

A)  Yes I do.

Q)  Well, is it my God?

A)   Uhhh, no…

        BANG!!!

Let us not forget that more people have been killed in the name of God than for any other reason.  That of course would make him one of the leading causes of death.  I’m still waiting for the TV fundraiser for this one.

In the course of riding the last two days, I’ve put together more religious crap than you can shake a collection plate at. Garden of the Gods, the Mother Cabrini Shrine, the aptly named “Oh My God Road”, and the Focus on the Family Visitors Center. The latter is an actual Visitors/Welcome center just off I-25 in Colorado. At this locale, weary ButtLite riders in search of a place to A) drain, and B) sleep, can instead be treated to several serious attempts to save them from whatever they’re doing with themselves. It pleases me to no end that smelly, sweating motorcyclists will find themselves fawned over by religious fanatics desperate to liberate them from their sins, their burdens and their money….just not necessarily in that order. All of the above (which are all in Colorado) coupled with the “Smallest Churches” mentioned earlier can all be found on a single ride that I’ve put together that I call “The Oh My God Route” It’s got something to offend everyone.  Adam just rolled his eyes when he saw what I was proposing they include on their event….Eddie laughed out loud. I’m starting to really like him.  

 “I could go north
and I could go south
or I could stop this bike 
like I could shut my mouth,
Now when I think of things
I’m so filled with self-doubt
that I can’t even think of things
I can safely think about…..”

I’m on my way to Oklahoma City to visit “The Site”, and while I’m sure that everyone has seen the witnesses on the news and read all of the stories about the horror of it and how it affected their life, I’ve never heard anyone who relates to it the way that Eddie James does. Here, with his permission, is his actual story told in his own words about how it personally affected him.     

“I still remember the call like it was yesterday”, Eddie says. “My brother David was on the phone and the first thing he says is that I’d better sit down. I don’t know how to tell you this Eddie” he says, “so I’ll just say it straight out. Your mother was needing new tabs for her mini-van and decided to go down to get them today. She was only about a mile from downtown when she got a call on her cell phone reminding her that she was supposed to be meeting friends across town, so she decided to get the tabs tomorrow instead. She wasn’t there when the building came down,” he said and quickly added “I’m sorry.”  “Sonofabitch!!” I screamed in frustration. Looking towards the heavens, I cried out “Oh cruel fate…why must you torment me so??” Eddie, still visibly shaken all these years later, adds further comment on this event “you know, I can’t even go visit the site” he says. “I’ve tried, but it was so sorrowful. All I could think about was the great loss here, of what might have been. I just can’t go there anymore.”

In deference to Eddie’s feelings, I’ll not be recommending this site for a potential bonus spot on the ButtLite.

“Down in Oklahoma,
everybody wore hats
but they looked at me funny
so I got out of there fast
And now I’m missing that girl
I’m even missing her cats
but of course I also missed the sign
that said Mississippi flats. 
I’m on my way
I’m on my way
I’m on my way
I’m on my way
I’m on my way
I’m on my way
I’m on my way 
I’m on my way

………but I think so.

Send me your cool jesus photos (but not the one of the Jesus statue wearing cowboy boots…I already have that one) along with a list of your personal problems to: askdirkdiggler@hotmail.com

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