Well, it’s been a mighty busy week, folks. I was plum exhausted when I got home
Thursday night, but I was hankering for some beefy cheese hashbrowns and I knew
that my work just wouldn’t be done until I had satisfied that craving. Still, the thought of actually cooking after
breaking my back on the job all day was not thrilling, as much as I love
creating culinary delights that cause cholesterol levels to top the national
debt.
Little did I know my TRUE adventure had not yet even
begun.
There, amongst the bills and
little cards marked “Free!” in the mailbox was this intriguing letter from a
“very old church.” The outside of the
letter stated thusly: “This very old church
loans this to you, to bless someone connected with this home. Then it must go to another family
that desires God’s blessings.
See letter inside...” On the
back it read, “God is doing great things in answer to prayer. Log onto www.biblicalprayer.com and www.aboutsaintmatthewschurches.com
to read testimonials of answered prayers.”
Well, of course I was intrigued! My first thought was that, judging by the overly-generous and
completely inappropriate use of boldface following no logical progression,
somehow Granny Clampet had gotten ahold of my home address. What on earth could she be lending
me?? I was nervous but anxious to read
what she had to say, so I opened up the envelope. Turns out it wasn’t Granny Clampet at all, even though whoever
actually typed up the letter had obviously received a doctorate from the
Clampet School of Unnecessary Emphasis.
It was not only chock full of illogical boldface, but had the added
attraction of having more than half of the boldface text underlined in India blue.
Letter from graduate of the Granny Clampet School
The letter began,
“Dear...someone connected with this address,” and I thought immediately,
“Oh no! How did they find this out
about me???” The letter claimed to be
sending me a very special “prayer rug,” a loaner thing that I was to return to
them after using it. Well, I checked
the envelope, and didn’t find any rug.
But I did find a legal sized watercolor of what I guessed was Jesus,
judging by the thorns on his head and all.
Jesus appeared to sleeping. Even
had a bit of sleep crud in the corner of his eye.
The Jesus Prayer Rug
Detail of Jesus featuring eye crud.
I was a little disappointed to read that this “very old
church” was only 10 years older than me, but there again, as tired and run down
as was feeling, I guess that makes them entitled to feel the same. The letter was pretty long, and I was really
craving those hashbrowns, so I set it aside for the moment and started browning
some ground beef.
A NOTE ON GROUND BEEF:
While it lacks the true deep flavor of the 72% beef, for meals such as
this, when I am already tired and don’t want to spend too much time in the
kitchen, I like to use the 93% beef. It
has almost no fat, so it browns quicker and eliminates the extra step of having
to drain it, since there is virtually no fat cooking off it. You might want to add a couple tablespoons
of vegetable oil to the skillet to aid in the browning process, however.
While the meat was browning, I read the testimonials
included with the prayer rug. The one
they really emphasized was from “Y.G.”, another apparent graduate of the Granny
Clampet School of Unnecessary Emphasis, but certainly not a doctoral candidate,
as she obviously had not yet learned the fine art of underlining for added
emphasis.
The Amazing $46,888.20 Woman!
“Y.G.” wrote about what a great blessing the $46,888.20 she
received by following the instructions with her prayer rug had been. And, you know, I thought, “Wow!” I read the other testimonials. One person got $10,700, another was healed
of sciatica, one got $5,000, a couple people got houses and cars, one got 17
acres land. It appeared this prayer rug
was some sort of cosmic cash machine! I
turned the beef and turned to back to the letter, which was basically instructions
on how to use the ATM rug. The process
was kind of long and involved, but, unlike chanting “Nam Myoho Renge Kyo” for
days on end, this mystical ATM could be operated in less than 24 hours! In fact, it demanded that it be used in
less than 24 hours and then sent back to St. Matthews Church so they could send
it to another family who needed some cosmic cash!
Included with the rug was a special sealed “prophecy,” which
was only to be unsealed after the prayer rug had been sent back. It stated that God would help me send it
back within the allotted time, but if he didn’t and I didn’t, I was to destroy
the sealed prophecy, unread. Now, I was
a little unnerved about the statement that God would help me while
allowing for the event that he might not, but I was even more unnerved by the
letter’s statement that “Timing is very important to God.” This begs the question of what the heck
those forty years to travel 230 miles in the book of Exodus was all about, but,
hey, I’m no theologian. I’m just a guy who
could use some extra cash. Since these
folks were willing to pray for whatever I needed as long as I sent them my
prayer request in the mail, I wasn’t about to question it.
Anyway, now I was really excited, and getting really hungry,
so since the beef was browned, I turned my attention to the potatoes, which
would have to be peeled and shredded in order to make the hashbrowns.
A NOTE ON POTATOES:
Although my kitchen is huge enough to park an aircraft carrier in, the
actual volume devoted to cabinet space is rather miniscule, so I have limited
storage space. For this reason, when I
buy potatoes, I like to buy the Del Monte 20 lb. bag. 20 lbs. sounds like a lot for limited space, but let’s face it;
those Del Monte potatoes are mutants!
The six potatoes that make up the Del Monte 20 lb. bag are a lot easier
to store than the forty potatoes that make up any other brand’s 10 lb.
bag. Not to mention the fact that I’m
not real fond of peeling potatoes, so if one of these Del Monte Mutants can
feed me for four days, I’m all for them!
So, I peeled the potato, grated it and put the grated potato
in a finely seasoned cast iron skillet to brown, then went back to the prayer
rug.
The first step in activating the prayer rug was to stare
into the eyes of Jesus. This was really
hard to do, since Jesus appeared, as I said, to be comatose, with his eyes
closed. But the instructions said that
I should stare at Jesus’ closed eyes and watch as they opened and looked into
my soul. I tried real hard. I really did. Look into Jesus’ eyes and see if you have better luck than I did.
The Eyes of Jesus Are Upon You!
For a couple moments I thought that Jesus’ eyes really did
open, but both times, he was looking off to his right. I can’t believe that my soul actually
follows me around somewhere above and to the left of me, so I attribute that to
mouthwatering hunger and imagination.
What did happen, though, was that the longer I stared at the face of
sleeping Jesus, this white spot on his forehead seemed to get brighter and
brighter and brighter! As a student of
Astral Projection, I am well-versed in the concept of the “inner eye,” or, as
it is known by the layman, the “third eye,” although I am fully aware that on a
bulletin board populated by mostly women, even saying “third eye” is going to
inspire a lot of penis jokes. I
understood immediately that Jesus was looking into my soul with his inner
eye. And wow, the longer I stared at
it, the brighter that white spot on his forehead became, so I know that my soul
was being dang-well examined! But
about that time, I was beginning to smell the sweet aroma of frying potatoes,
and I didn’t want them to burn, because I knew that even Jesus wouldn’t want me
to waste my mail-in prayer on uncooking potatoes, so I gave up in my
attempt to force Jesus’ eyes to open, and went to stir my hashbrowns.
I like crispy hashbrowns, so my method of making them is,
rather than letting one side crisp up in the skillet and then turning them, to
let one side crisp up and then chop it all up so that some of that crispiness
ends up in the center of the hashbrowns.
I then let the hashbrowns crisp up all over again before flipping them
and letting the other side crisp up.
This three-flip method makes for a much more tasty hashbrown, in my
opinion. At the time I chopped and
stirred them up, I also added the browned beef to them, and decided that some
green chile would go really nice with these hashbrowns, so I pulled and
quick-thawed under running water a bag of green chile from the freezer.
A NOTE ON GREEN CHILE:
Everyone seems to believe, and the media loves to report, that the BEST
green chile comes from Hatch, New Mexico.
This is so completely untrue.
What is particularly amazing is that seemingly everyone who uses green
chile will claim that their chile comes from Hatch. To a degree, this is not a false claim. Thousands upon thousands of pounds of chile come from Hatch. But the amount of chile actually GROWN in
Hatch is pretty small, and you can bet your bottom dollar that the majority of
that chile never actually leaves Hatch.
What happens is this—Mexican growers export their chile to the United
States, and 70% of chile imported by the U.S. is directed to Hatch, so that the
bill of lading on their shipments reads, “Hatch,” thus it officially becomes
Hatch chile. But 90% of the chile
marketed as Hatch chile in the U.S. is not grown in Hatch. Believe me, Hatch relies too much on the
tourist trade to actually let much of their chile out of the county. If you live in New Mexico, you can get Hatch
chile, but unless you are buying it directly from a farmer in Hatch, anywhere
else in the U.S., if you buy “Hatch
chile,” you are most likely buying chiles that came from Mexico with a Hatch
bill of lading. This is not to say the
chiles are bad. In my opinion, there
just is no such thing as a bad green chile.
But the Hatch myth is one that needs to be put to rest. I have lived in New Mexico all my life and I
think I can say that I have honestly only had actual, true Hatch chile only
once. And it did not compare to chile
grown in the Lemitar valley. The thing
about chile is that it’s really not GREAT if you can’t taste it. Our friends north and east of us tend to go
for the HEAT of the chile, and not the flavor.
Hatch prides itself on the heat of their chile, and that’s a good
selling point to the rest of the world which seems to eat chile only to prove
that their stomachs are made of cast iron or something. But any food is dependent upon FLAVOR to
stand the test of time, and that is why Lemitar peppers are so much better than
those grown anywhere else. The Sandia
peppers grown in the Lemitar valley are the perfect combination of heat and
flavor. There is, in my opinion, no
better chile in the world. And because
Lemitar valley chile is not marketed nationwide, you can pretty much only get
it if you are in the know or know someone who is in the know. It doesn’t travel well. But once you’ve experienced it, you’ll wish
it did.
Anyway, the point is that you should be aware that just
because the label says “Hatch,” unless you are IN Hatch, you probably aren’t
getting Hatch chile, and even if you are, you are probably missing out on what
is truly GREAT chile.
So, I added some delicious Lemitar valley chile to the mix
and let them brown up a bit, flipped the whole pile and let them crisp up on
both sides while I microwaved a cheese sauce made from Velveeta and milk. Now I know there are MANY of you on this
site who hear the name “Velveeta” and run screaming with your head under the
pillow. Believe me, if I had had the
time to create a cheese sauce from shredded medium cheddar and cream, I’d have
done so. But I had Jesus waiting on me,
so I did what any other normal working person trying to make a great meal would
do. I did a quick microwave of Velveeta
and milk to make for a fine cheese sauce to add to my hashbrowns, already done
up with my beef and chile. Poured that
sauce over the browns, and let it sink in for two minutes.
I’ll just say that dinner was freakin’ fantastic.
Now, with dinner done and my cravings sated without having
to resort to Jesus to make that happen, it was time to turn my attention back
to the savior. Fortunately, it was
DSM’s father’s birthday, so I knew he’d be on the phone for at least an hour
and a half, during which time I could focus my thoughts on my mail-in prayer
request. The next instruction was to
kneel on the prayer rug, or, for those arthritically-challenged, to lay the
“rug” over their knees, and to pray for your particular need. I wasn’t sure what to pray for. The insert that came with the rug listed the
following possible prayers: strength,
spiritual blessing, happiness, caring friends, good health, true love, a money
blessing, great joy, a happy family life, miracle healing, success, wisdom,
peace, financial help, prosperity, willpower, a good loving companion, spiritual
guidance, protection from evil, salvation, a secure future, a good job, or
return a loved one. I kind of think I
have all of those except “return a loved one,” which I found rather macabre and
not something I would ever pray for.
So, I just continued following instructions, knelt on the rug and
concentrated on sending my good-will energies to whoever got the rug next. That was really hard, because, according to
instructions, I was, in essence, straddling Jesus’ face.
Not feelin' comfortable about straddlin' Jesus at all....
It was oddly reminiscent of my first oral sex, and I could
do nothing to keep that from my mind while I was sitting on Jesus like
that. I did note that what appeared to
be sleep crud in Jesus’ eye now looked like a tear, and I took it as a message
to lose some weight, if my straddling Jesus made him cry like that. I thought for sure his eyes would open then,
but they never did—exactly like that first oral sex, where the instigator
seemed to not even want to know or admit what was going on. In all, it was a truly disturbing
experience. I think the only thing that
got me through it was the thought that this was gong to happen to someone else,
too, after I returned the rug to the church.
What was even more disturbing was that, as I was sitting there on Jesus’
face, I got an itch and it was a true effort not to wiggle.
Now the next part of the instructions was to pick what
special prayer I wanted said for me when I returned the cosmic cash rug to the
church. That was really hard, because,
as I have said, other than returning someone from the dead, I think I’ve
already got everything they want to pray for me for, and I really think the
dead should stay dead, so I wasn’t going to pray for that. But the monetary gift prayer was kind of
fill-in-the-blank, so I figured if their main featured testimonial was
monetary, I may as well go ahead and ask for money. The woman in the featured testimonial had received $46,888.20,
but, while I wanted my due, I didn’t want to seem greedy, so I just asked for
$46,000. I figured I’ve got a good
enough job with good enough pay that I can make up the $888.20 all on my own. The lord helps those who help
themselves, right?
I tried not to be greedy.
Also on the prayer request form was place to mark how much
of a “seed-gift” I was going to send the ministry. That was a question I figured I’d best let go till the
morning. Perhaps I would receive a
message overnight.
Now, the next part of the instructions was to place the
prayer rug inside my Bible at Philippians 4:19. This is a strange verse to want to put the prayer rug on, I
think. It reads: “Whose end is destruction, whose god is
their belly and whose glory is in their
shame, who mind earthly things.” Seems
like a real calling down to me for just asking for $46,000, but, then this
whole process was pretty bizarre, what with me having to sit on Jesus’ face and
pray for blessings and all. So, I
slipped Jesus into the King James.
Detail of Philippians 4:19
Jesus really IS in the Bible!
Now the instructions got a little confusing, because once
the rug was in the Bible, it had to remain there overnight, but the
instructions went on to say that if you didn’t have a Bible, you should put the
rug under your bed overnight. I figured
I’d best be safe and take both roads, so I put the rug in the Bible and then
put it under the bed overnight. Can’t
be too careful when dealing with a cosmic ATM, I figured.
"Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my...wait a minute! I AM the Lord!"
Oddly, throughout all this handling and pseudo-sexual
positioning that poor Jesus went through, his eyes never opened the way they
said they would, so I was hoping that a good night’s sleep would really help
him. I went to bed with Jesus under
there tucked safely in the Bible, and I slept like a log. DSM tossed and turned until about 4:00 in
the morning, however, and in the morning I had to promise never to hide Jesus
under the bed again. Carlos the pool
man was okay, but Jesus is a little too noisy or something. This seemed to be borne out by the fact
that Jesus had still not opened his eyes.
He was apparently sleeping it off after his night of partying that I had
slept through but which had kept DSM awake all night.
Jesus was sleeping it off...
At any rate, time was of the essence, and I knew I had to
get Jesus back into the envelope along with my prayer request as soon as
possible. Fortunately I had received
the hoped-for inspiration about what seed-gift to send the ministry, but before
I did anything, I required coffee and breakfast, which consisted of fried eggs
and leftover hash browns from the night before.
A NOTE ON LEFTOVERS:
Man, don’t they always taste better the second time around? I have learned that the best soups and stews
and such are the ones you make and don’t eat.
This is one of the secrets all cooks should know. If you want competition-winning recipes,
always make them a day in advance, then reheat them for the competition. The night spent in the refrigerator really
gives them a chance for the flavors to mingle and helps to make a good thick
gravy in stews and such.
Anyway, with breakfast eaten and some of that wonderful
mountain-grown Folgers pumping though me, I turned my attention back to my
prayer rug, and, especially the inspiration I had received concerning my seed-gift
to the ministry. Now, I’ve always been
a firm believer in the adage about “give a man a fish” v. “teach a man to
fish,” so it seemed to me the best thing to do would be to send a seed-gift
that would continue to give over the years, actually act as a seed-gift. Namely, seeds. The only seeds I had in the house were pinto beans, so I put a
handful of them into the envelope.
That others might gain from my generosity...
Sharing my incredible bounty.
This way, the ministry can plant the beans and grow a cash
crop to help support their important work, or they can pass the beans along
with the prayer rug to the next person who needs a blessing, and that person
can plant the beans and grow a cash crop to help themselves. As blessed as I have been in life, and
having an abundance of pinto beans right now, I figured the least I could do
was to share my good fortune. Hopefully
someone can put them to good use.
So, now the prayer rug and my prayer request for $46,000 and
my seed-gift were safely tucked away back in their return envelope, and, with
time being of such great import, I marched them right out to the mailbox, so
the rug and the gift could be delivered to someone more needing as soon as
possible.
May the wind be at your back, Jesus!
That left only the prophecy, still unopened, still to be
read. I was very anxious to unseal it
because it said it contained important news about my future. It also had a picture of Jesus on it that
was very different from the Jesus I had squatted upon the night before. It was a really confusing picture. I’m not sure if he is vogueing or performing
in the finale from “Beach Blanket Babylon,” but he looks really happy, whatever
he is doing.
Happier, carefree, dancing Jesus.
I took this as a sign that my future must look pretty
good. My $46,000 might be bearing down
on me that very moment! I waited with
great anticipation for the mailman to come.
A NOTE ABOUT THE U.S. POSTAL SERVICE: No matter that on any given day the mail
carrier arrives at your house before 10:00am, if you need something to go out
right away, the mailman will always be late.
It was almost 5:00pm before the mailman came, but that was
still within my allotted 24 hours, so I think I’m okay. I eagerly popped the seal on the prophecy
that contained the great important news about my future. What a disappointment! The whole thing came out to be an
admonishment to not believe the words of prophets and seers and mystics who
claim to have news about your future!
It said that God has a plan for my future, but he isn’t going to reveal
what it is. Well that sounded a lot
like Richard Nixon’s secret plan to get U.S. troops out of Viet Nam (which
turned out to be, “Um...,let’s leave.”)
What’s more, the entire thing was attributed to the prophet Joel! A prophet was telling me not believe
prophets. Well, I took his words to
heart and just threw his prophecy away.
Now I’m just waiting for my $46,000. I’m a little nervous because of the timing
thing, it being a weekend and all. But
I’m sure that God understands about how the USPS works and that I squatted on
Jesus with the best of intentions and tried to follow all the instructions to
the letter. Since I can’t know the
future, I guess all I can do is wait.