Who knows

I heard the knock at around 2:00; threw the already propped door open, and found two gentlemen, (one grown, one still growing), both dressed in shirt and tie. The older gentleman, wth red pants, blue shirt, and a faded brown briefcase, fumbled around for a how-dee, and when we had said our rehearsed hellos; he, obviously not looking for me, asked if the people occupying the house were the same as a year ago. I went through a list of 20 names, until i came upon patrick, which sparked a brightened expression from his face, and to which he asked if I might find him. I did my best to get a hold of pat, but when he was not to be located, the younger gentleman, with brown pants, green shirt, and black shoes asked if i might be interested in having a little Bible study with them. I fumbled around for a way to say yes without sounding suspicious, thereby revealing the "10,000 ways with which to stump your foes", so avidly playing in my mind.

The next 45 minutes would be spent in complete and utter futility. Why on earth I am under any sort of an impression that men, with obvious intentions, knocking on my door, would ever recant and submit to the reasoning of the very one they presumed to be un-enlightened, is well beyond me; but yet we sat, (at least I did) on Mango's front lawn, like snakes playing dead, pretending to hear eachother's thoughts with sincerity; all the while keeping hidden our real agenda; the secret ambition that we might bare our poisonous fangs of "Biblical understanding", into the necks of our newly alleged "brothers on quest for truth's", anticipated slip of tongue; All the while, through our actions, we abandon the same gospel that we swear to know so much about, and thereby betray the One we've fought the last 45 minutes to justify.

Grandfathers

For 13 years of my life I had 2 grandfathers, and for 4 years now I have had none. While my 13 and 15 year old tears were genuine tears, and the picture of their bodies in a casket is altogether a reality that will never leave me, I have never quite experienced thier death's reality as I do now; 19 years old, and discomfited at the thought of so many things I now grasp an appreciation for, that then i neglected to take hold of; opportunities that will never again be put before me; stories i never heard, fishing trips i never took, and wisdom i never took full advantage to draw upon. I've come to terms with the fact that neither time nor grandfathers will ever be given back to me, so here's to what I swear never again to take for granted, and here's to what I miss most:

Grandpa Marv: A hot-dog and waffle for breakfast every morning; The word shit when you were angry, and the bad ass status i awarded you when you said it; Your always dirty, rugged, and beat up hands; Your 2 pairs of cover-alls, bearing the stains of a days hard work; Blue recliners, with a beer in one hand, and popcorn in the other; Renewed frustration at the Florida Marlins and intolerance for anything loud; consistent one dollar bills for the passing Polar Cup; Super-fly belt buckles, and Members Only jackets.

Grandpa Kaiser: The new life that you gave to dirty, broken, thrown away ball-point pens and plastic bags; Frugality and the refusal to throw anything away that could be fixed; Your lack of a right thumb, and the story of losing it in farm machinery, at 10 years old; Your rockin1977 black Lincoln Continental, so adamantly turned off at red lights to save gas; The auctioneer call and songs that involved yodeling; B-Love and fishing off the Lake Worth pier; The smell of squid in our back freezer; Mesh trucker hats; Honey in your coffee, and Denny's.

Shoot dang